#her for fear of losing her. and it’s the way that she falls apart in the morning and then gathers herself back together as she braids her

[star2fishmeg]

CONGRATS ON 1K 🥳

Could I request Quinn Hughes helping reader through a stress breakdown + #13?

Thank you for requesting <3

FLUFF #13 "You came." "You called."

📞 dialling…

Quinn had never gripped his steering wheel harder in his life. Never had been so impatient and desperate to get back to his apartment before. He’d never burst through the front door, dumping his bags and almost tripping through his hallway like he had after he saw the notification back in the rink’s locker room. The second he opened his phone after practice and saw her name on the ‘missed call’ notification, his stomach dropped drastically, and all clothing and equipment was shoved into his bag without much care.

Following the sniffling, he peered into his living room, slowly and quietly stepping closer to y/n curled up on his sofa, as if she were trying to melt into the back cushions from how tight she had pressed herself against them, like she was trying to get as far away from her laptop that sat on his table behind her and curl up into a ball. He thought for a second that the way she had positioned herself, she didn’t want to look at the device she usually would be working from when he got home, her eyes red and wide, wet with glistening cheeks, choked sobs falling from her chest staggered.

Taking a seat next her, lips pulled into a compassionate frown, Quinn wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her onto his lap and holding her to his chest, “Sshh, I’m here, darling, I’ve got you.”

For some reason, one she could not explain, she cried harder, a lump in her throat that was cured by wails and uncontrollable tears as she melted into his hold, tucking her head into his collarbone and letting his voice and hands sooth her. His heart ached, a sting in his chest as her hand clutched his hoodie.  

After allowing herself to fall into vulnerability, safe in his warmth, y/n sniffed, eyes bleary and grip on his hoodie loosening. Quinn’s hands remained soft, caressing over her back and placing gentle kisses to her head. 

“You came?” she croaked, voice only loud in the silence of the apartment. 

His hold tightened, wiping her cheek with his thumb and gazing softly into her eyes, “You called, why wouldn’t I come?” 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I…I know not to call when you…you’re at practice but, but-” the words seemed to blurt out into breathless sobs, the kind that had her ugly crying where strings of saliva coated her lips, and she sniffed every few seconds to spare the embarrassment of getting mucus all over him. 

“No, no. It’s okay, you can call me whenever you need.” He cooed, leaning back into the cushions. 

He didn’t need to ask what she meant; they’d been together so long he just knew. She would never call him during practice unless it was an emergency. Not that he’d pick up until he’d re-enter the locker room, but y/n had a stone pride, a fear of asking for help and case of responsibility she felt obliged to even when she wasn’t. Being a hard-worker and carrying a weight were two different things and she couldn’t tell the difference, which led to situations like Quinn had walked in on. Y/n wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t out of desperation and the only time she ever called was when the weight of her stress crushed her into a mental and emotional collapse.

The sobbing gradually dulled into sniffing, y/n staring into space while he stroked her hair, “Do you wanna talk about it? Or I can run a bath with the candles? Or we can just cuddle and watch something?” 

She didn’t ask a lot from him. Just to be held when she needed him the most and to let her hold him. And that intimacy was enough for her heart to slow into a peaceful rhythm.

“It’s too much, Quinn.” Her voice was strained, cheeks hot from her outburst. Yet, he didn’t know how long she’d been crying and panicking for until she called, and that pained him the most. “There’s so much work to do and so little time, but if I don’t do it, I’ll let everyone down and they’ll hate me and I’ll lose my job and-”

“-and you don’t have to do it alone. Why don’t we take a bath, cuddle on the couch and we can talk it through?” 

She’d never met a gentler man in her life. She’d seen him tussle on the ice, throw a punch or two but that never made it outside the rink. He never raised his voice, never left any argument unresolved and his voice was always softer with her, whether he knew it or not. His arms, his warm and inviting arms paired with him knowing exactly what she needed without her saying a word broke away the distress chip by chip.

Shaking her head wearily, her lip quivered, “No, Q, you don’t have to go through all that, I can handle it, I swear. You’ve got your own things, I’m just overreacting, I’m fine, it’s fine. Yeah.”

“Y/n, look at me.” Quinn pulled her away from his chest, hand cupping her cheek and bringing her head to look him in his eyes. “Breathe. You’re not going to do this alone. I’m here for you and I love you, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better, okay?”

She nodded, his thumb wiping away any excess tears. She swallowed the lump in her throat, breathing in for five seconds and exhaling for another five, just as Quinn taught her. Soft lips pressed to her temple, and she gave a small smile, leaning against his chest once again.

[trollbreak]

Man I put on shuffle for eiteth brain and got yarrow angst instead. Hewwo??

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kiss against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his hand and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me have my way with you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[jaewritesfic]

Melon AU Part 4

Cass is quietly adamant that her new cling-on be taken to the Batcave, no matter the concerns Bruce raises.

If he's honest, his protests fall a little flat even to his own ears. The fact of the matter is that he looks at the midnight apparition she holds and just…can't bring himself to fight very hard.

The creature clings to her like a desperate child, claws curled into her cape in a way that's bound to leave holes. Bruce hasn't caught so much as a glimpse of the face since it grabbed onto Cass, head resolutely tucked into her shoulder. That long sinuous tail is wrapped around her waist and down one leg as if the slightest disconnect could wrench them fully apart.

She was right, it's scared and it needs help.

Bruce almost thinks convincing Commissioner Gordon to lift the police barricade at the end of the alley will be the difficult part, but he's proven wrong. Gordon is more than happy to foist the situation off onto the Bat colony, it's just a matter of figuring out actual transport.

It's not that Bruce doesn't want the creature in the Batmobile. It's that nobody is sure the creature will respond well to someone other than Cass being in proximity to it.

Bruce may be feeling distinctly sympathetic, but he's still not comfortable leaving his daughter totally alone with something strange, unknown and dangerous.

He doesn't want Cass alone with it - them. They probably won't respond well to anyone but Cass being close enough to be in a car with them.

Ultimately this culminates in Bruce pulling the Batmobile around and trying to be very. Very. Quiet.

The shadow creature hasn't raised their head from Cass’s shoulder once, so hopefully as she climbs in the back with her clingy cargo they won't notice they're not alone.

…nobody is going to claim this is a good or creative plan. It's kind of just the only option they can think of.

The creature clicks and whines as she climbs in, aware and nervous about the enclosed space probably, but they don't raise their head or move.

If anything they just wind themselves around Cass a little tighter.

“Shhhh,” Cass hushes gently. “Car. Take us to safe place. I promise.”

Bruce is used to her cowl enough to be able to tell she's glancing at him in the rear view mirror.

Thankfully, the Batmobile can autopilot to the cave. His presence is solely because he refuses to leave her alone with their new…guest. That means he can sign at her.

Did you get a better look at the injuries?

She shakes her head minutely. Hm. Bruce had feared that was the answer, considering how fast the creature had plastered themselves to her.

Do they seem to be losing a lot of blood?

A tiny shrug. Not a yes, not a no. Bleeding, but not gushing. Or maybe she's not sure how much without a visual, though if it was egregious she'd feel it even with the suit.

The heat of it, the slickness.

Bruce decides the shrug is a tentative good sign.

“Let's play questions,” Cass says suddenly, hands rubbing gentle, comforting back and forth patterns against a back so dark it looks like a void. “Nothing scary. Get to know you questions.”

There's no answer, but it doesn't seem to faze her. Of course not. She's Cass.

“Will you play? Tap once yes,” she says softly, tapping the creature's back with her index finger once, “And twice for no. No is okay. You can say no.”

There's a long moment where Bruce watches them in the rear view and nothing happens. Then Cass's cowl shifts in the way that means she's smiling.

“Thank you. Pronouns first, okay? One for she-”

She taps once.

“Two for he-”

She taps twice.

“Three for- oh. Thank you. Good boy. I'm she.”

The rest of the family exposes themselves as listening, quiet murmurs and exclamations over the comms at the new knowledge that their creature considers himself male.

Bruce isn't surprised that his kids have been listening with baited breath.

“From Gotham? One for yes, two for no.”

She hums softly, going back to petting his back gently.

“Me neither at first. Home now, like the back of my hand. Can show you all the best spots. Like burgers?”

There's a long pause. Bruce suspects the creature is having a hard time believing she's talking about and proposing such casual topics.

Eventually she smiles again. “Me too. Will buy you Batburger, I promise. Nectar of the gods.”

An odd little vibration goes through her new friend, audible as well as visible. It seems almost like a weak laugh.

“....bets on shadow noodle’s favorite Batburger order?” Dick asks over comms.

Bruce purses his lips not to huff in amusement. They're almost to the cave, he'd like to stay incognito until then. He wouldn't want to alarm any shadow noodles.

Masterpost

[slashmagpie]

Break Like an Artist

My fic for @hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event! I was paired up with the wonderful @eydilily to create something spooky, dramatic and contemplative featuring Gem and Pearl, and it's been an absolute blast putting this together. Please go check out Eydi's art for this AU, it's absolutely gorgeous. CWs: description of a corpse, dismemberment, loss of awareness, fire/flooding/destruction, and depiction of a panic attack. Wordcount: 5.8k

There is a plague sweeping Pearl's hometown.

One by one, she watches as her friends fall to the infection, the colour and life drained out of them and leaving hollow, apathetic husks behind. Even with the devastating loss of her friends, her village, and her regular life, the worst part of this situation is not the infection.

It's that Pearl knows that Gem is the one spreading it.

[Read on AO3]

It’s a grey day in the fishing village that Pearl calls her home. Not that it’s ever not a grey day, at least not anymore. She stares out of her window at the thick encompassing fog that’s claimed the bay, at the desaturated buildings that dot the shore, and she twirls her paintbrush in her fingers. 

The canvas is blank, of course. She doesn’t remember the last time she sat down to paint and didn’t end up with a blank canvas. It must have been—months ago, at least. Back when the last monster from the depths had attacked, and not a single person had had the heart to fight back. When Tango’s house had been shattered in two, and Tango with it.

(He seems to be dealing well with the loss of his arm, at least. Or, as well as you can deal with anything, when the only things inside of you are all-consuming numbness and apathy. Pearl feels it in her chest, the yawning emptiness, and thinks that if she were to lose her arm right here and now, she also wouldn’t be able to summon the energy to care.)

She’d painted after that, though. She remembers it vividly, waking from a nightmare and running to her studio to capture lashing tentacles and inky waters and splatters of crimson blood. It’s a frenzied piece, a disturbing piece, and the moment she’d finished it she’d been filled with so much dread that she’d turned it around to face the wall and refused to look at it since.

The dread’s gone now. Along with the anxiety, and the uncertainty, and the fear. It’s all gone, and Pearl’s left sitting here, paints drying on the palette as she stares at an empty canvas.

Across the house, she hears her front door swing open and closed. A familiar voice shouts, “Pearl? Pearl, where are you?”

“Studio,” Pearl calls back, her voice flat. She continues to twirl the paintbrush as she waits for Gem to trek her way across the house to find her.

“Studio,” Gem echoes as she pushes open the door. “Oh, Pearl, are you painting again? Oh, I’m so happy for—oh.” The joy in her voice vanishes as she takes in Pearl, sitting on her stool, paintbrush raised and canvas empty. “Oh, Pearl…” 

Sympathy. Pity. Concern. Pearl can pick apart the emotions in Gem’s voice, even if she can’t feel them herself. She stares back blankly, because she can’t find it in herself to care about either aspect of the situation, whether it be her own inability to paint or the way that Gem’s looking at her like she’s a wounded animal.

“Come on,” Gem says softly, crossing the room and gently prying the brush from Pearl’s fingers. Pearl lets her. She’s not really painting, anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we? A nap will do you some good.”

Pearl lets Gem help her up, lets Gem allow Pearl to lean on her for support as they make their way back to Pearl’s bedroom. It’s not like Pearl has any difficulty walking. She’s not sick, she’s not injured, she’s just…

Cold. Empty. Not quite lifeless, not in the way Mumbo had been when she’d last seen him, skin and eyes and hair all the same shade of grey-white-nothingness as he’d stared into the distance, completely unresponsive. Listless, maybe, is the better word. She’s halfway to a fate worse than death and she cannot find it in her to care at all.

She feels colder where Gem touches her. She looks down, and she’s not sure if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her, or if her skin is more desaturated where it brushes against Gem’s. She lets Gem help her into bed, lets Gem fluff the pillows and fuss around her, lets Gem sit next to her as she hands Pearl a bowl of soup (“Your favourite!”) and watches her to make sure she eats.

If Pearl were more herself, she would care about what Gem’s doing to her. Care enough to stop it, maybe. Care enough to—no, not to confront her. Every time she’d tried, the words had gotten stuck in her throat. Because she’s known for a long time who’s been behind all of this, behind the corruption leeching all colour from their village, their home, their friends—

And she’d never said anything. Too worried about Gem’s feelings. Too worried about their friendship.

…Pearl realises, as Gem goes to take the empty bowl and brushes her hands against Pearl’s, that she’s not worried anymore.

She waits quietly as Gem washes the bowl in her kitchen, chattering to fill the silence as she does, updating Pearl on their friends’ conditions. Her tone is bright and optimistic, even as her words are dour. Scar seems to be doing the same. Grian’s getting worse. Joel’s down to communicating only in broken phrases—but he should be fine. It definitely won’t be like Mumbo, or Cub, or…

Gem returns to Pearl’s room, regarding her for a long moment before bending down to give her a hug. “Get better soon, okay?” she says into Pearl’s ear. “It’s not the same doing my rounds without you.”

Pearl knows that she’s not getting better. So does Gem, so Pearl doesn’t bother pointing it out. She just nods, lets Gem withdraw, lets Gem run one last hand through her hair.

“You should rest, Pearl,” Gem says, stepping away from Pearl’s bedside. “I’m going to go check on Impy now—”

Pearl’s moving before she’s even properly registered it, grabbing onto Gem’s wrist with force, holding her in place. Gem freezes. Pearl looks up at her through strands of greasy, greying hair.

“Gem,” she says, and it’s the first thing she’s said in days, and her voice is hoarse and her throat sore from the strain.

“...Pearl?” Gem replies, and she sounds almost scared.

“Gem,” Pearl repeats, getting used to the sound of her own voice in her mouth again. “I know.”

Gem laughs. It’s a nervous, tittering sound, the laugh Pearl remembers from when they’d gotten into trouble together as kids. “Know what?” she asks, voice strained. 

“That it’s you,” Pearl says flatly. 

Gem stares at her.

Pearl stares back.

Gem swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “Pearl—”

“I know you’re the one doing this to us,” Pearl says, more specific this time, choosing her words carefully, and Gem—

Gem tries to pull away.

Pearl tightens her grip. 

“Pearl,” Gem whines, eyes wide, tugging. “Let me go—”

“Why?” Pearl croaks, and Gem snaps her mouth shut.

---

Pearl’s in the midst of mixing a particularly tricky shade of green when there’s a loud, frantic knock on her front door. She sighs, setting down her brush to rest, and gets to her feet. “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” she calls as the knocks continue, echoing through the house.

She pulls the door open and Tango’s there, a nervous ball of energy, just about ready to bolt. “Pearl!” he calls. “Pearl, come on, we gotta go—” 

He grabs her by the arm and drags her off. Pearl just barely manages to close her front door behind her.

“Wha—? Where are we going? What’s going on?”

“Something washed up on shore,” Tango explains. “The whole town’s there, c’mon.”

Accepting that she’s not going to get an explanation out of him, and now deeply curious about this something, she lets Tango lead her down to the shore by the lighthouse. Sure enough, the whole town is there, a chattering crowd gathered around a spot on the shore that Pearl can’t quite see. Impulse is standing on the edge of the crowd and catches sight of them, raising his arm in a wave. Tango makes a beeline towards him, ducking under the crowd, and Pearl follows behind, apologising to False and Keralis as she bumps into them.

“Did you decide what to do with it yet?” Tango asks as he comes to a halt and finally lets Pearl go.

Impulse shakes his head. “We’ve decided it’s Gem’s call,” he says. “After all, she’s the—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as the crowd suddenly goes silent and parts for Gem, her hair wild and eyes wide behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She’s got her lab coat pulled on over her day clothes, clearly not prepared for this in the slightest. She reaches the front of the crowd and stops dead still, staring at the thing that has washed up on the shore.

Pearl follows her friend’s gaze, and sees it for the first time.

It’s a body. Of course it is. A corpse, taken by the sea and ravaged by the waves and washed ashore by the brutal bay currents. The body’s clothes are torn and sodden, the skin beneath so pale that it could practically be paper. Pearl is stricken, for a moment, with the mental image of her taking a brush to this canvas, filling it back in with colour, painting contours back into its skin, breathing life back into the body.

She shakes her head violently, banishing the thought. Where did that come from? This isn’t a canvas, it’s—

It’s a person. A person who was alive, and is now dead, washed up on the beach like a dead whale and just as much of a spectacle. His eyes are open but rolled back, only the whites showing, and his hair is white too, just as pale as his skin. It stands as sharp contrast against the dark fabric of his torn clothes, a mask wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

Pearl swallows hard and averts her gaze back to Gem, who looks just as disturbed by the body as Pearl feels. It takes Gem longer to pull her eyes away, to glance around the crowd. “I’ll—I’ll take it back to my lab,” she says. “Investigate, and—and give him a proper burial.”

The words reassure the crowd, a low chatter beginning up again. 

“Skizz, will you help me carry him?” Gem calls.

Skizz does, stepping forward from the crowd and helping Gem maneuver the bloated corpse. Pearl finds herself looking at it again, noticing dark striations in the skin, caught in glimpses between the tears in the clothing as it’s moved. 

She shakes her head again, forces herself to look away as the body is carried out and the crowd disperses. The image of the body lingers in her mind. Something settles uncomfortably in her stomach, and she wishes that she’d never opened the door.

---

Things go back to normal after that. Or, well, as normal as they get in the village, at least. False monitors the currents and warns of any incoming floods or monster attacks. Impulse and Tango work maintenance on the fishing boats that Grian and Skizz and Keralis take out into the bay. Mumbo runs the fish market. Cub and Scar come and go along the trading routes. Joel maintains security, or at least the illusion of it.

Gem hides away in her lab running experiments she never explains, and Pearl paints.

She tries to return to her usual fare, brightly-coloured landscapes with fantastical features, but something about her paintings rings hollow when she looks at them. She decides she needs a change, to switch things up and just relax, so she pulls out her paints and a blank canvas and begins with no intentions. Her movements are fluid and free and thoughtless and she falls into a flow state that lasts hours, until she blinks her eyes and awakes to find a portrait before her, a colourless face in full saturation.

The corpse’s visage, so alive she can’t believe it’s not breathing, stares back at her from her easel, and Pearl flinches like she’s been burned.

She hides that painting away, face turned towards the wall, and returns to painting landscapes. They come easier now, and for a time Pearl feels normal, as long as she ignores the canvas in the corner.

It’s Impulse who notices that there’s something wrong first. It’s not surprising that he’d be the first to pick up on it, really. Skizz is his best friend, after all. Of course he’d notice when Skizz stopped laughing, stopped joking, stopped drumming out tunes with his fingers on the side of his boat. And when Pearl sees him, she notices changes too—his skin paler, like he’s spent several weeks locked inside a basement instead of out in the summer sun, his eyes no longer their regular bright blue.

“Hey, Skizzly,” she greets brightly, trying to play at normal, throwing him a bone to grab onto.

Skizz just glances at her before responding with a flat, “Oh, hey Pearl.”

Pearl’s smile falters. “How are you feeling? Impulse told me you’re a little under the weather.”

Skizz shrugs. “Fine, I guess. Did you need something?”

Pearl swallows, something cold sinking in her guts. “No, no, just checking in on you.”

“Gem already checked on me,” Skizz says. “She said I’m not sick.”

“Gem’s not that type of doctor,” Pearl reminds him with a weak smile.

Skizz shrugs again. “She’s the only doctor we’ve got.”

Pearl tries her best not to let that unsettle her.

---

It’s not just Skizz.

It starts with him, but it doesn’t end there. Keralis is next, and then Grian. Mumbo gets sickest the quickest, going from his anxious, affable self to a nearly-unresponsive husk within a week. That scares them all, because even Skizz is still responding when spoken to, still moving when instructed to, even after nearly a month of being infected with… whatever it is that’s going around.

False gets sick without anyone noticing, sequestered away in her lighthouse until she comes into town for groceries looking like a photograph that’s been left in the sun for too long, and that’s when people really start to panic.

And that’s when Gem declares, with all the authority that being a doctor of anthropology afforded her in a tiny town with no real doctor, that she’s putting everyone into quarantine until they can determine the source of the illness. 

“I’m not sick,” Pearl tells Gem when her friend knocks on her door, dressed in full lab gear, her hair out of its usual ponytail and falling forward around her face. She’s pretty sure she isn’t, at least, having hyper-analysed the shade of blue in her eyes in the mirror every morning for the past month. 

“I know,” Gem says. “I want to—I need to—can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Pearl says, stepping aside. “Of course.”

Gem enters, heading down the stairs into Pearl’s living space and staring at the paintings on the wall. Pearl watches her for a moment before stepping closer, resting a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“What’s eating you?” she asks.

Gem snorts out a laugh at that. “I’m not a real doctor, Pearl,” she says.

“I know that.”

“They all need me to be a real doctor for them. I—” She breaks off, runs an anxious hand through her hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I need help.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know how I can help,” she says. “I’m even less of a doctor than you are.”

“I know,” Gem says. “But you’re my friend, and I trust you, and I need—please?”

She stares at Pearl, bright green eyes magnified through thick glasses lenses. Pearl has never been able to say no to those eyes.

“Okay,” she agrees, letting out an uncertain breath. “Okay. What do you need me to do, Dr. Tay?”

Gem laughs again, high-pitched and anxious, and Pearl feels hot and cold all at once.

---

They do house calls. Once a day, Gem and Pearl, and sometimes Impulse, will make a round of the village, checking in on everyone. Gem brings some of her lab equipment and a notebook, where she scribbles down all the readings she takes from her instruments and any observations she makes. After the first week or so, Pearl also takes to bringing a sketchbook and a small travel painting kit, attempting to record the desaturation rate in her friends’ colours. 

It doesn’t matter which way they look at it—the situation is bad, and rapidly getting worse. Most of the town is infected now, and Skizz is approaching Mumbo’s level of deterioration. Cub fell ill two weeks ago, and Tango—

Well, he’s not quite grey yet, but he looks washed out where he sits at his table, especially next to Gem, all bright copper and ocean blue and forest green. His voice is flat, all of the emotion in it gone, and while he responds in full sentences to Gem’s questions as Pearl attempts to capture the moulded-straw colour of his hair, none of his words sound like him. 

Gem wraps up her check-in, and Pearl follows her out, paints packed away in her bag and sketchbook held carefully so as not to smudge the paint. Impulse is waiting for them outside, staring out into the bay, where a low-lying fog has been hanging for days. 

He glances over at them, voice shaking as he asks, “How is he?”

Gem hesitates. “About the same?” she offers. 

Pearl shakes her head. “Worse,” she says, offering her sketchbook to Impulse, pointing out the differences in values between the colours she’d sampled from Tango two days ago to the ones she’d taken today. 

Impulse’s hands are trembling as he hands the sketchbook back to her. “What do we do?” he asks. “They just keep getting worse—Gem, what do we do?”

Gem’s eyes are fixed somewhere out at sea. Her expression is so scarily blank that Pearl would worry she was infected if not for how bright and vibrant she looks against the backdrop of the village. (Are the houses getting greyer? Surely not—surely it’s just the fog, and the fact that the sky has been overcast for a fortnight now—surely—)

“We look after them best we can,” Gem says. “I’m trying—every night I’m working on a cure.”

“And do you think it’ll work?” Impulse pushes.

“I have to,” Gem replies. “It has to.” 

Pearl swallows, and does not voice what all three of them are thinking: what if it doesn’t?

---

Impulse turns up one morning a shade dimmer than he had been the day before. Pearl notices immediately, her stomach lurching at the sight of him. He offers her a smile that’s smaller than his usual ones, a greeting that’s a little flatter than it would usually be. Pearl’s not sure if Gem even notices.

But Pearl notices, and her eyes sting, and she throws herself at him in a way that catches all three of them off-guard.

“Uh, Pearl?” Impulse says, stiff and uncomfortable beneath her. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl mumbles against his ear.

“Pearl?” There’s a peak of distress in his voice but it’s not enough. Gem hears it, too.

“Oh no,” she breathes.

“Okay, guys, seriously,” Impulse says, pushing Pearl away. “What’s going on?”

They just stare at him.

Realisation dawns across Impulse’s face. “No.” 

“Maybe…” Gem sucks in a breath. She reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it. “Maybe you should go home, Impy. Get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse protests. “I’m…” His protest crumbles under their gazes. He slumps, and Pearl knows that he would normally never crumble like that. He’d protest and fight back and keep working until he passed out on the docks and had to be carried back to bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “I’ll help you home.”

Impulse doesn’t protest that either. He knows, as well as the two of them do, how this ends. He knows that there’s no fighting this.

Pearl, very valiantly, does not cry about it.

---

With everyone except the two of them infected, Pearl manages to convince Gem to split the rounds, with her taking half of the houses, and Gem taking the other half, swapping halves every couple of days. Gem is reluctant, but she has no good argument against Pearl’s that this is more practical, and so she agrees.

And that’s when Pearl notices.

She thinks she’s imagining it at first, but the colour swatches in her sketchbook back up her suspicions, damning evidence she can’t ignore.

When she visits her rounds, she finds that the people she’s visiting appear to have stabilised, at least for a couple days, no greyer today than they were when she saw them the day before. And then she swaps with Gem, and notices that Gem’s half of the rotation are far paler, far less responsive, than they had been the last time Pearl had seen them. They stabilise for a couple days, and then they switch, and Pearl’s original rotation have deteriorated massively in the several days since. 

There’s really only one conclusion she can draw from that, and she doesn’t want to draw it. She doesn’t want to believe that the one responsible for this is—

The fog is a permanent fixture of the village now, blanketing the bay in a thick blanket of quiet. Pearl finds it hard to sleep, even the familiar sound of waves muffled by the mist. Kept awake into the early hours of the morning, she finds herself in the studio, a brush in hand, letting the paint take her where it will.

And where it takes her is familiar: the village, desaturated and coated in fog, dark looming shapes in the mist beyond, rising out of the ocean. And there, in the midst of the painting, a bright spot in all the gloom, is Gem, so vibrant she practically lifts off the page.

Pearl stares at it for a long, long time, and then places it face against the wall and tries her best to forget about it.

---

In all the dread, they’d forgotten something important.

The sea isn’t safe. It never has been. Growing up in the bay you learn how to weather the storms, to predict the tides, to flee from floods. You learn how to build barriers, and you learn how to rebuild once the ocean drags them down. 

Pearl knows that her village can handle the sea: she’s seen them do it time and time again over the years. Together, they move as a well-oiled machine, responding to threats from the depths with weathered ease. That’s why she doesn’t expect it, she thinks. 

There’s never been a monster attack that False didn’t warn them about.

But False isn’t capable of doing much of anything at the moment.

And so when the tentacles rise from the waves, there isn’t a warning.

Just a deafening krk-crash that wakes Pearl from a dead sleep with a bolt of adrenaline that’s nearly nauseating. She scrambles from her blankets, still in her pajamas, and rushes up the stairs to throw on her boots. It’s edging towards winter now, the weather much milder than the summer months, and though it’s not cold by any stretch of the imagination the chill of the air still makes her shiver. She grits her teeth, racing from her front door to the village proper, and there—

There’s a sea monster, dark purple tentacles reaching out to the shore, destroying everything in its wake. The fish market is half gone, and it’s awful, but it’s a relief, in a way, because nobody lives there.

“Gem!” Pearl screams into the night.

“Pearl!” she hears echo back, followed by distant footsteps, growing ever-closer. 

Gem’s face is flushed, her hair wild, her eyes wide. She’s also in her pyjamas, her lab coat that’s been ever-present for months now gone, and Pearl finds her eyes drawn to dark striations in her skin. They look like—

“Pearl,” Gem says again. “We need to get everyone out, away from the shore, up to the research centre—”

Pearl nods. “Got it,” she says. She points towards the docks and says, “I’ll head over there.”

Gem nods. “Be safe,” she says, and then she’s off again, pelting in the direction of the lighthouse.

Pearl doesn’t bother knocking as she throws Impulse’s door open. He’s still lucid enough that he’s been startled awake by the noise, though it hasn’t driven him to do much more than put his shoes on and stare out of the window at the dark shapes rearing up out of the fog.

“Impulse!” Pearl cries.

“Pearl?” Impulse says, glancing at her with dull eyes.

“We need to get people out,” she says.

There’s an extended pause, then, “Okay.”

“Can you get Skizz?” she asks. “Tango, too, maybe? I need to go to the beach, help everyone down there.”

Another extended pause, then a nod. “I can do that,” Impulse says. He moves too slowly, not driven by the same panic flooding Pearl’s veins, but it’s good enough. It has to be. Pearl doesn’t have time to consider the alternative.

She goes racing off for the beach. She throws open Keralis’ door first, relieved that he is, at least, wearing underwear when she drags him from his bed and into the night. She leaves him there while she grabs Grian from his hut, and then takes them both by the wrists, pulling them along behind her while she races for the cliffside.

It feels like hours that she races back and forth, grabbing her friends from their homes and dragging them in various states of comprehension to the safety of the cliff before running back into the danger zone. Grian’s hut is gone, and so is a large portion of the road. The tentacles have taken a chunk out of the farms further up the coast. Gem’s been taking the people she rescues a different route up to the research facility, the path that Pearl’s taking cut off to her by debris.

Once she’s got everyone on her side of town, she collapses panting on the grass, her lungs aching with the strain. There’s a fire somewhere down on the shore, someone’s lantern knocked astray by swinging tentacles. Her eyes burn just from looking at it.

A voice says, “I got him.”

Pearl looks up.

It’s Impulse, manhandling a colourless, greyscale Skizz.

Pearl goes cold.

“Where’s Tango?” she asks.

Impulse blinks. Slowly. Too slowly.

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll go get him.”

Pearl shakes her head, rocketed up to her feet by panic once again. “No, I’ll go,” she gasps. “You stay here.”

And then she’s off running again, beelining for Tango’s house, praying to any higher power that will listen that she’s not too late. Her lungs ache. Her legs burn. She can’t quite catch her breath. She’s shaking.

And then she’s knocking down Tango’s door, grabbing him from his bed against the far wall, dragging him away—

The roof coming down sounds like thunder, like the sky split open and gutted for parts. Pearl goes down hard, stars bursting behind her eyes, her breath coming out empty and then as a whine. She blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark, for her ears to stop ringing, and that’s when she hears it.

It’s—not a scream. More of a whimper, or a wail, stretched out and awful and pained and punctuated by short, desperate gasps. It goes straight to her stomach, straight to making her sick, and she doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want to move.

But, god, she has to, doesn’t she?

She wiggles her fingers, her toes, and lets out a deep groan as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. The world has narrowed in on itself, the open air of Tango’s house reduced to a crawlspace, and she shuffles down it, rubble and debris tearing her skin open and leaving bloody red marks on desaturated wood. It is a far cry from the blood she finds, practically brown with how much colour has been leeched from it. 

“Oh, my god,” she chokes. “Tango…”

Tango just moans in response. She can’t tell if he’s pale from blood loss or pale from the infection, but either way it has the effect of making him look half dead. He’s half buried beneath the rubble, body jerking with what she can only assume is pain, barely felt beneath the weight of numb apathy.

“I gotta get you out of here.” The words taste acrid against her tongue. Or maybe that’s the smoke. She can’t tell. “I’ve got you.” She grabs Tango by his good arm and grimaces. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s not a reassurance for him. Not really. Pearl’s familiar enough with his condition by now to know that he can’t really care about being okay at this point.

It’s more for her as she does her best to get leverage in the small space and pulls. 

When Tango screams, she knows it’s completely involuntary, an animal howl of agony that stops her short. Pearl gasps, tears on her cheeks, head spinning. “Please, no,” she begs, and she doesn’t know if she’s talking to him or the higher power that’s been ignoring her for weeks. “No, no, I gotta—I—”

“Pearl?”

“Gem!” Pearl cries. “Gem, please, I need—it’s Tango—he’s—”

“I’ve got you,” says Gem’s voice, familiar and close as footsteps pound across rubble. There’s a series of grunts and clunks as rubble shifts, and then there’s light pouring into the crawlspace, which is no longer so much of a crawlspace. Gem stares at the two of them, Pearl in tears on her knees and Tango half buried and lying in his own dull blood. 

“Okay,” she gasps out, and she sounds terrified. “Okay,” she repeats, steadier this time. 

Pearl wants to be relieved, but she’s just on the other side of hysterical. Gem’s holding an axe, which she must have used to clear the rubble, and she steps forward with it held between white knuckles.

“Hold him still,” she tells Pearl.

Pearl swallows. “Gem?” she whispers.

“Please.”

Gem glances down at Pearl, and god, she never has been able to say no to that, has she?

She shuffles forward, puts her weight against Tango, holds him still. Squeezes her eyes shut.

It doesn’t make it any better.

It doesn’t stop her from hearing the sick crunch of the axe cutting through bone or the blood-curdling scream Tango lets out.

It doesn’t stop her from feeling the sudden lack of resistance as she pulls Tango’s bleeding body away from the rubble, leaving his arm behind.

---

Pearl manages to hold it together until they’re able to get Tango safe and stable. Once the wound has been cauterised and disinfected and bandaged, and he’s left sitting with a mostly-unresponsive Skizz and an Impulse who’s just aware enough to be awkward about how little he feels for his friend, she walks away from the town’s refugees on the hillside until she can no longer hear them, and they can no longer hear her. She stands for a moment, surveying the damage below, the sun rising over the sea and the flooded streets and destroyed buildings, and she sucks in a breath that knocks her to her knees.

The panic attack comes in quick half-breaths and waterlogged wails, her hands gripping at her hair and pulling it hard enough to hurt. The world blurs around her as she chokes on saltwater and bile, her ears ringing with screams and funeral bells. When the hands settle on her shoulders she barely feels them—only feels them when they rise to her wrists and untangle her fingers from her hair.

“—earl? Pearl. Look at me. Come on, I know you can do it.”

“Ge-em,” Pearl chokes out. “I can’t—I—”

“I’ve got you,” Gem soothes. She takes Pearl’s hands in hers, squeezes them tight, real and grounding. “See, come on, that’s it. Breathe with me.”

Pearl blinks tears from her eyes as she tries to time her breathing to Gem’s. She’s not very good at it, her heart too quick and Gem’s too slow, but it helps, dragging her down from the high of panic. 

“That’s it,” Gem breathes. She lets go of Pearl’s hand, reaching up to push the hair out of Pearl’s face, cupping her cheeks in her palms. “See? Nice and calm. Everything’s fine, see?”

“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, and the words feel hollow. Her panic feels hollow, somewhere above her body, her soul sunken to somewhere below her knees. She sucks in a breath, lets Gem wipe tears from her eyes with her thumbs.

Gem is so bright. A searchlight in a storm, a ray of rising sun through the dark. The world seems to grey around her. 

Pearl reaches out, splaying her hand against Gem’s cheek, a clumsy echo of Gem’s own reassuring, grounding touch. Gem is still so bright, vivid enough that Pearl doesn’t think any paint could capture it. 

And Pearl, held in comparison, is grey and dull. A shade, drained of life.

She swallows. Lets out a shaking breath. Looks up into Gem’s green eyes, sees the fear and regret in them, and can barely summon her own panic or hurt in return.

“Oh,” she says, and the word falls like a stone, plunging into the depths.

---

Pearl lets out a breath. “It was the body, wasn’t it?” she asks, loosening her grip. “The one that washed up. It did something to you.”

Gem swallows. She pulls away, holding onto her own wrist where Pearl had dropped it, clutching it to her chest. “I’m so hungry, Pearl,” she whispers. “I fade so fast now. I need… I need…”

“You’re going to kill us.” Gem flinches at the words. “You know that, don’t you, Gem? You’re going to kill us. You are killing us.”

“I just need your colours,” Gem replies, a whine in her voice. “I just…”

“What happens when we’re gone, Gem? What happens when you’ve taken all the colours? What happens then?”

Gem stares at her. There are tears in her eyes. They don’t quite fall, but Pearl can feel them drip into her hollow heart. There’s an ocean between them now and Pearl doesn’t have the wits to cross it. She doesn’t care enough to cross it, and she doesn’t feel enough to care about that. 

“I have to go and check on Impy,” Gem repeats, her voice thick. “I’ll see you later, Pearl.”

“You won’t,” Pearl calls after her as Gem hurries for the door.

Gem doesn’t reply, just slamming the door shut in response.

Pearl sits in bed for a long time, staring at the wall with hazy vision. Her thoughts are muffled under the thick fog that chokes the village, and so when she finally stands, she’s not entirely sure why. She lets her body carry her back to her studio, picks up a canvas from against the wall, and places it on her easel. She sits down in front of it and stares.

Gem’s face stares back at her, the only alive thing in a dead and colourless world.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader

Simon knows suffering. He knows what it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like. He knows the fine line humans walk before they break and shatter, the cusp of control that is lost in the face of agony.

And right now, he sees it all over your face. Suffering.

"She's started walking," he murmurs, balancing Phoenix next to your thigh on the bed, sleepy and curled around the crux of his elbow, "kind of. She holds onto the couch and tables and stuff to cruise around."

"That's... great." The words are devoid of life, mirroring the dead look in your eyes, the one that's been there since you woke up a few days ago.

"Do you want to hold her? While she naps?" You shake your head immediately.

"No, I don't think... I'm really weak. I don't think I could hold her up." It's understandable. You've lost all muscle mass, mobility, strength. You can't walk to the bathroom, or hold a spoon for too long. You lose your words, your train of thought.

But that's not what this is. This is something else.

Still, he has to try.

"Well, I could..." He trails off, heart sinking at the look of panic in your eyes, the way you trace the knuckle of your ring finger subconsciously. It's a tic you've developed over night, one he's not sure you're even aware of.

"I'm tired." You won't look at him, picking a spot on your lap instead, lower lip tucked between your teeth.

"Okay, honey, that's alright. You don't have to." You reach for him, shaky hand trying to find his and he rushes to take it, rub his thumb over the back of your knuckles, squeeze you as tight as you can stand. "Do you want to get some rest?" You give him a nervous look, but nod.

"You'll be here? When I wake up?" His heart breaks.

"Of course."

No one was prepared for what would happen when you woke up and discovered you weren't pregnant anymore. The therapist warned him, but he was too focused on willing you to open your eyes everyday. He didn't listen, and he should have. He'll never forget the terror in your eyes, the way you pressed your hands to your stomach, how quickly you became hysterical, lost in the fear that Phoenix was gone.

The only thing you could say was "I tried, I tried" on a loop, a broken record stuck in the past. You tried to protect them, you told him, you tried to keep them safe. He held your face between his hands and forced you to look at him, but you weren't there, you weren't with him, and nothing he did or said got through to you. You were in that cold concrete box, tied to a chair, trying to protect your baby while a man was cutting your finger off. He told you Phoenix was fine, more than fine, that everything was okay, but it fell on deaf ears.

You only calmed down when they gave you a sedative, and he barely made it out of the room before he vomited in a trash can.

The next time you woke, it was to a therapist and Simon, Cami and Gaz down the hall with both of the kids. Waiting.

"A girl?" Simon squeezes your hand.

"A beautiful, healthy little girl. She's perfect." You blink.

"She's okay?" You were crying, big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, and he wanted to hold you so badly, but he had to get through this next part, and if he tugged you into his chest, he'd fall apart.

"She's okay mama. She's amazing." He glances at the therapist, who nods. "You had a c-section, shortly after you got here."

"I did?" You tug at the sheets immediately, pulling the gown up over your hips to look at your belly. "Oh." You sniffle, staring at yourself. The incision healed perfectly, but even a perfect wound still leaves a scar, and you glance between him and the therapist anxiously, who says your name quietly.

"I want you to take a deep breath," she coaches, waiting for you to do as she asks before continuing, "you've been here for over a year. Phoenix, your daughter, will be turning one soon. Orion is four." Your eyes widen.

"What? No... no that's not... " You start to shake, looking at Simon with wide, scared eyes. "Simon?" 

"It's been over a year, sweetheart." It burns on his tongue, but he promised to reaffirm it, to help solidify it as your reality. "But everyone is okay, you're okay. You're healthy, and Phoenix is healthy, and everything is-"

"Where are they? Orion and... Phoenix?" He glances at the therapist, who nods again.

"They're here. Do you want to see them?" You hold onto him like a lifeline.

"Yeah." 

The hard part was supposed to be over. Orion ran into your room so fast, and you smiled so big Simon's knees went weak, his knuckles white on the rail of the hospital bed. His son curled up in your lap just like he'd been doing for the last year and cried, clinging to you. He covered you in tears and snot, and all you did was hold him closer and bury your nose in his hair.

But when you saw the baby in Cami's arms, you turned into a ghost. "There she is," Cami bounced her, "there's your mama."

The look on your face was devastating. Gaz, thankfully, noticed it as fast as Simon did, and stepped halfway in front of Cami, stopping her from getting closer. "Let's take a breath," He murmured, looking back at where you sat shell-shocked in the bed.

"That's Nixie mama." Orion announces, matter of fact, just as he does everything else nowadays, and you shake your head.

"She's... she's beautiful." Your fingers twisted together. "I uh... sorry, I'm just..."

"It's okay." Simon pressed his lips to your temple, and you leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry," you choked, fully crying now, still holding Orion, your grip tightening. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's alright honey, it's okay." He stroked your cheek, trying to calm you.

"Ouch mama, too tight." You let go of him like you were holding a hot pan, almost frantically, suddenly nervous. Scared.

"Let's give mama a break, okay? I think Uncle Gaz promised you a trip to the playground right?" Simon scooped him up, trying to hold him still as he thrashed.

"No!" He cried, trying to wriggle free. "No! I want to stay with mama, I want to stay, daddy stop!"

"She'll be here when you get back, little man." He was at a loss, saved only when Gaz pulled Orion from his arms and practically dragged him kicking and screaming out the door.

Once he was gone, your cries turned into sobs so heavy you needed an oxygen mask, and he spent the rest of the night holding you in his arms, long after you fell asleep.

"Hey."

"Hey." You immediately make room for him to lay down. He's bigger than the bed, but it's never stopped him from being beside you, and it won't stop him now.

He only went home to get the kids bathed, fed, and down for bed, letting Gaz know he'd relieve him again in a few hours. It was routine. Had been for a year. Cami and Gaz practically living at the house, swapping out weeks with Soap, everyone rotating so Simon could spend as much time at the hospital as possible. When they were gone, he made it work, but broke apart every time he couldn't be here, with you. The idea of you waking up without him made him physically ill, so he even enlisted someone from the next town over.

He was desperate.

Now, he's desperate in a different way.

"I think..." you're half asleep, and he kisses your hair, "tomorrow I'll do better."

"There's no rush. You've only been awake for a week. It takes time."

"I want to do better." He tightens his hold. "I promise I will." He's told you no one expects you to be okay or emotionally ready for any of this overnight. You're confused, you're stressed, and your guilt is eating you alive.

It's his fault at the end of the day. Everything you're going through, everything you will go through, your trauma, the PTSD, the things he knows are coming, all of it... the weight is on him.

"You do what you can. I'll be here for the rest." It's no question, he'd give his entire life for you. Lay down and die for you.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[suguru-getos]

"Please- please-" you raggedly breathe, knees scraping against the hard floor as Satoru dragged you by your wrist, a soft whimper escaping your lips. You had no idea why he had gotten so angry. You have been nothing but good. You're forced to stand up next, hard grip on your hair sure to give you migraines. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I don't understand-"

This is the first time Satoru has been so silent, it terrifies you, the very marrow of your bones. He is big, tall, looming and so unwavering when he wants to be. Your hurt and panic breaks into a sniffle, lips parted to utter what he'd call a pathetic excuse of an apology. "What did I say, when I said I would be okay with you going out?" He raised a brow, and your pupils wavered in the bone-chilling coldness of his tone. Harsh blue eyes and pursed lips ready to attack his little prey. "Yo- You- you-" Fuck, you're stuttering. Just like you always do when you're scared and panicked. "Yo- You- you-… what. Did. I. Say?" Satoru hums, after mocking your tone.

You sniffled, "s-said to me to not go out apart from the estate premises."

"Do I need to make sure you listen to me in a different way?" For Satoru, it's simple. You have tried to run so many times that his patience has worn out, the constant fear of you going away is making him the monster he is now. The outside world is filled with curses, and bad things. You, are a non-sorcerer and you should know better. Besides, after today's incident. He is ready to do anything.

"Why the hell were you outside then?" He yelled, Satoru… doesn't really yell. The problem is, a special grade spirit was sighted near the store you decided to go see for yourself. While that's something rare, it's increasing his anxiousness a tenfold. What if you had been there, you had been a bag of fucking bones! "I just- wan' wan' wan'ed you know- I just-"

"Speak to me properly or I will break you in ways you can't take. Wouldn't let you walk for days." That causes you to cry out, why is he overreacting so much! Christ! He already has you here, rotting, against your will. You sobbed, heart racing and breaths shallowing.

Satoru was… tolerable… you wouldn't call yourself the unluckiest person in the world until today. He had abducted you, but he was never… this.

"Can’t talk to her or she will have a FUCKING panic attack." His jaw grits, holding you by the neck and pinning you against the wall. Your hands instinctively hold his wrist, but they're meek, sweaty with fear, and powerless. "If I see you step out again, I will kill everyone you hold near since you love watching me helplessly try to make you compliant, without hurting you, no?" Without hurting you… yeah right.

You nodded, "W- Won't step out." It's getting harder for you to speak with every second, eyes losing focus and fight or flight kicking in. Satoru's harsh expressions are blurring out, you were passing out.

And you do, fall limp against him. His feet impatiently tapping the floor once he sees you collapse. Another reminder of how you could die in an instant and leave him like Suguru did. A soft sigh escapes him once the throbbing headache kicks in. The high adrenaline calming down and kicking in with brutal headache. He lets you fall on the floor, ignoring the slight bruise in your head at the impact. You should know better. At least this is keeping you from not fucking dying.

He walks away to get the medication for his head, looking at himself in the mirror. He doesn't… look like himself. He leans in, watching the colour of his eyes greying. Something's wrong. That's when it kicks in.

Yandere Satoru was influenced by the same special grade curse he had killed. Why else were his thoughts so messy? You had escaped so many times but he always thought you'd just… understand one day.

A cold blood rushes through his spine once his cloudy thoughts clear up, and the idea of you passed out on the cold flooring floods him. Satoru has never been more quick to pick you up, cradling you close. Some part of him is happy, you wouldn't run away anymore. Another part of him is unsure if it's him truly thinking it, or if it's the curse's energy tampering with his own. A small part of him wants to die for putting you through this. Satoru Gojo needed to figure this out.

And then… he needed to build his relationship with you from scratch once he finds out what you did go out to buy. There were ingredients of his favourite Kikufuku. You were trying to make him… Kikufuku.

The small part of him that wanted to die isn't so small anymore. Months, if not weeks, it will take months to get you to love him like this again…

[starvrse]

MARK OF POSSESSION

pairing : kang noeul x fem!reader

summary : noeul just wanted what was best for you. and what was best for you was her.

warnings : controlling nd obsessive noeul, hair pulling, choking, blood, cutting, knife, (not ina freaky way more like in a “bitch where u going” way) etc.

unnecessary bs : short story, like uhh 3.5k words

noeul knew what was best for you. It wasn’t just a belief—it was a certainty, one she clung to with an iron grip. she was convinced that no one else could give you what she could, that no one else understood you like she did. her love, her care, her unwavering devotion—these were all you needed. and she would do whatever it took to ensure you realized that, even if you didn’t see it yet.

she would weave herself into your life, gradually, gently at first, until it was impossible to imagine a day without her presence. her love wasn’t just nurturing—it was a force that suffocated, one that turned your world into a place where only noeul’s vision could thrive. every decision you made, no matter how small, would be filtered through her. it wasn’t manipulation, she would say. It was guidance. you could always rely on her to make the choices that were best for you—because she knew what those were.

when others tried to get too close, she’d subtly pull them away, perhaps with a smile, perhaps with a suggestion that wasn’t quite as innocent as it seemed. “you’re spending too much time with them,” she’d murmur. “don’t you think we’d be happier just the two of us?”

her obsession wasn’t just emotional—it was calculated. she kept track of every detail about you, cataloging your habits, preferences, fears. she understood you better than you understood yourself, and that made her indispensable. noeul had a way of making you feel special, of making you feel like no one else could care for you the way she did. but in doing so, she also made you feel small, dependent on her attention and approval. she made you believe that your happiness was her—without her, you would be lost.

she never let go. she couldn’t. she believed that if she ever lost you, she’d lose everything. and that was something she simply couldn’t allow.

the girl already felt like she’d lost so much. people had come and gone, promises had been broken, and trust had been shattered in ways she couldn’t fix. but you? you were different. you were the one thing she couldn’t bear to lose. the thought of it alone made something twist in her chest, a panic she couldn’t quiet. she had given so much to be here, to be with you, to make you see how perfect things could be if you only allowed her to take the lead. and now, now that she had you, she couldn’t risk losing you too. not after everything. not when you were the only thing left that made sense in her chaotic world. you were her last chance, the one thing that could fix everything. so if it meant controlling, guiding, helping you see that she was the best choice, then so be it. she couldn’t afford to lose you. she wouldn’t.

noeul’s smile was sweet, her voice soft, but there was an edge to it that made you hesitate. “you know i only want what’s best for you,” she’d whisper, brushing your hair out of your face with careful fingers. her touch lingered, possessive in a way you couldn’t quite name. “no one else will take care of you the way i do. no one else loves you like i do.”

and for a while, you almost believed her. almost.

“noeul,” you started, your voice barely above a murmur as you stared down at the coffee mug she had placed in front of you. “don’t you think this is… too much? the constant texts, the calls—it’s suffocating sometimes.”

her expression didn’t falter, though her eyes darkened. “too much?” she repeated, her tone laced with quiet disbelief. “i’m only looking out for you. you need someone to keep you grounded, to make sure you’re okay. you’d fall apart without me, yn. you know that.”

you flinched at her words, guilt pricking at your chest despite yourself. she always had a way of twisting things, of making you question whether you were being ungrateful for her care.

“it’s not that i don’t appreciate it, but—”

“then don’t push me away,” she interrupted, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “you don’t realize how fragile you are. how much you need me. but that’s okay. i’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

there was something suffocating about the way she looked at you, like you were the center of her world and she wouldn’t let you forget it. her love was a weight, heavy and unyielding, and no matter how much you tried to squirm away from it, it always pulled you back.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the mug as you tried to meet her gaze. “noeul, i’m not fragile. i can handle myself, you know. i don’t need you to—”

“to what?” she interrupted, her tone deceptively soft, though her eyes were anything but. “to care about you? to make sure you’re safe? yn, do you hear yourself? you’re lucky to have someone like me. someone who actually gives a damn about you.”

her words stung, sharp and cutting, and for a moment, you felt the urge to apologize, to tell her she was right, even though deep down, a part of you screamed that this wasn’t normal.

you set the mug down carefully, the sound of ceramic against wood breaking the tense silence. “that’s not what i meant,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “but it’s like… you don’t trust me. you don’t give me any space.”

noeul tilted her head, her expression unreadable, though her lips curved into a small, unsettling smile. “space?” she echoed, almost amused. “is that what you think you need? space to what—hurt yourself? make bad decisions? let other people take advantage of you?”

you shook your head quickly, your heart pounding. “that’s not fair, noeul. i just want to feel like i can breathe without you hovering over me.”

her smile faded then, replaced by a look of quiet intensity that made your stomach churn. “breathe?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “yn, you don’t understand. i’m the only reason you’re still standing. without me, you’d fall apart. you don’t know how much i’ve done for you. how much i’ve sacrificed.”

she leaned in closer, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek, her touch almost tender. “you think you need space, but you’re wrong. what you need is me. you’ll see that, eventually. even if i have to show you myself.”

the way she said it, so calm and assured, sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the weight of her gaze pinned you in place, stealing the words from your lips. all you could do was sit there, trapped under the suffocating warmth of her affection, wondering how things had spiraled so far out of your control.

you pushed her hand away, your voice rising as the knot in your chest snapped. “noeul, you don’t get it! i’m not some fragile, helpless thing that needs you to save me all the time. i can make my own choices, live my own life! you don’t get to decide everything for me!”

her expression froze, her smile dropping as her eyes darkened, the warmth in them turning ice-cold. for a moment, she didn’t say anything, just stared at you like she was trying to decide whether you had really just said that.

“you think you can handle yourself?” she said quietly, her voice eerily calm. “that’s funny, yn. really funny. because last time i checked, you couldn’t even figure out what you wanted for lunch without my help.”

“that’s not the same thing!” you shot back, standing now, your hands shaking. “you treat me like i’m some kind of child who can’t do anything on their own! i’m tired of it, noeul. i don’t need you watching my every move!”

her jaw tightened, and for the first time, the calm facade cracked, a flicker of something raw and dangerous crossing her face. “watching your every move?” she repeated, her voice rising. “you call it that, but all i’ve ever done is take care of you. because no one else will, yn. no one else cares enough to do what i do.”

you shook your head, stepping back as her voice grew sharper, more frantic. “maybe i don’t need someone to care that much! maybe i’d be better off—”

“better off without me?” she cut you off, her voice sharp like a whip. she stood now, her presence overwhelming as she loomed closer. “don’t say that, yn. don’t you dare say that.”

you faltered, but the frustration bubbling inside of you refused to be snuffed out. “why not? it’s the truth! i feel like i can’t even breathe around you anymore, noeul. you’re always there, always controlling everything—”

“controlling?” she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and something deeper, more desperate. “you think this is control? do you have any idea what it would be like without me? you’d be lost, yn. completely, utterly lost.”

“no, i wouldn’t!” you yelled back, your heart pounding in your chest. “i’d be fine, noeul! i can live my life without you smothering me every second of the day!”

her eyes flashed, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow colder. her voice dropped, low and venomous. “you think you’d be fine? you think anyone else could handle you the way i do? you’re wrong, yn. you have no idea what’s out there. no one will ever love you the way i do. no one will ever put up with you the way i do.”

the words hit like a slap, and for a moment, you stood there in stunned silence, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. but even as the doubt crept in, you forced yourself to speak. “maybe they wouldn’t,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “but that doesn’t mean this is okay. it doesn’t mean i have to stay.”

her face twisted, her mask of sweetness gone entirely now. she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “you’re not going anywhere, yn. you think you have a choice, but you don’t. you need me, whether you want to admit it or not. and i’ll make sure you realize that, one way or another.”

the air felt thick, suffocating, as her words hung between you. you wanted to run, to scream, to do anything—but her gaze held you captive, her obsession wrapping around you like chains you couldn’t break.

you turned on your heel, heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to the door. “i’m leaving, noeul,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “this isn’t love. i can’t do this anymore.”

you didn’t wait for her response, your hand already reaching for the doorknob. the thought of freedom, of finally escaping the suffocating grip she had on you, spurred you forward—until a sharp, searing pain tore through your scalp.

“you’re not going anywhere.” noeul’s voice was sharp, laced with fury as she yanked you back by your hair, forcing a cry of pain from your lips. your hand shot up instinctively, trying to pry her grip away, but her hold only tightened.

“you think you can just walk away from me?” she spat, dragging you back toward her. her other hand found your neck, her fingers pressing down hard, cutting off your air as panic flared in your chest. “after everything i’ve done for you? after everything we’ve been through?”

“n-noeul—stop,” you choked out, clawing at her hand as you struggled to breathe.

but she wasn’t listening. her face was twisted in a mix of rage and desperation, her voice rising with every word. “you’re mine, yn. do you hear me? mine. i’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me? by trying to leave me? by abandoning me?”

tears streamed down your face as your vision blurred, your body thrashing in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “please… stop,” you gasped, your voice barely audible as the world began to fade around you.

your vision blurred, the edges of your sight fading to gray as noeul’s grip on your neck tightened. panic surged through your body as you clawed at her hands, your nails scraping against her skin, but she didn’t let go. her face was a twisted mask of fury and desperation, her voice rising above your strangled gasps.

“you’re not leaving me, yn,” she growled, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “you don’t get to leave me.”

your strength ebbed away, your limbs growing weak as darkness began to creep in from the corners of your vision. you could barely hear her words anymore, her voice muffled like it was coming from underwater. your hands slipped from her wrists, falling limp at your sides as your body betrayed you.

“you belong to me,” was the last thing you heard, her voice a venomous whisper, before the world faded to black.

the suffocating pressure on your throat was the last sensation you registered before everything disappeared, leaving you trapped in a void of silence and unconsciousness.

“you don’t get to leave me,” she hissed, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “you belong to me, yn. and if i have to hurt you to make you see that, then so be it.”

-

your head throbbed as you slowly regained consciousness, a dull, pounding ache radiating through your skull. the air was cold, damp, and unfamiliar, carrying a faint, metallic scent that made your stomach churn. your fingers twitched against the rough, uneven surface beneath you, and as your eyes fluttered open, the dim light of a single bulb above you cast eerie shadows across the room.

you were in a basement.

panic surged through your veins as you tried to sit up, only to feel the sharp tug of something binding your wrists behind your back. the rough texture of rope bit into your skin, and you struggled against it, the reality of your situation crashing over you like a wave.

“oh, you’re awake.”

her voice sent a chill down your spine, soft and sweet like honey, but laced with an unsettling edge that made your blood run cold. you turned your head sharply, your eyes landing on noeul as she stepped into the light, her expression calm, almost serene, but her eyes burned with an intensity that made your heart race.

“w-what… what are you doing?” you stammered, your voice hoarse and shaky as you tugged against the ropes.

she crouched down in front of you, tilting her head as she regarded you with an almost pitying smile. “you left me no choice, yn,” she said softly, her voice dripping with feigned regret. “i couldn’t let you walk away. you don’t understand how much you need me. how much i need you.”

you flinched as she reached out, her fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “but it’s okay,” she continued, her voice low and soothing, as if she were comforting a frightened child. “you’ll see soon enough. you’ll understand why this is for the best.”

“noeul, this isn’t right,” you said, your voice trembling as tears pricked at your eyes. “please, just let me go. we can talk about this—”

“no,” she interrupted sharply, her calm facade cracking for just a moment as her eyes narrowed. “you don’t get it, do you? you don’t need anyone else. you don’t need freedom. you don’t need choices. you need me.”

her voice softened again, and she leaned closer, her lips curling into a small, unsettling smile. “and now, you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. i’ll take care of you. i’ll make sure you’re safe. even if it means keeping you here forever.”

your heart raced as her words sank in, and you struggled harder against the ropes, desperation clawing at your chest. but noeul simply watched, her smile never wavering, as if she were savoring the sight of you realizing just how trapped you were.

noeul crouched in front of you, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey. the flickering light above cast shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp edge of her smile and the unsettling glint in her eyes. in her hand, you noticed something new—a knife, small and sleek, its edge catching the dim light as she twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers.

“you know,” she started softly, her voice almost a whisper as she tilted her head, studying you. “i love you, yn. more than anyone else ever could. more than you’ll ever understand.”

you froze, your breath catching in your throat as the blade glinted in her hand. every muscle in your body screamed at you to move, to run, but the ropes binding you held firm, leaving you helpless beneath her piercing gaze.

“so why,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly, as though she were on the verge of tears, “do you keep playing with me? why do you keep trying to run away? don’t you see how much this hurts me?”

she leaned in closer, the knife lowering to your thigh. your breath hitched as the cold metal pressed against your skin, just barely grazing it. her touch was delicate, almost careful, as if she didn’t want to harm you—yet.

“you make me do these things, yn,” she murmured, her tone laced with both frustration and heartbreak. the knife trailed lightly down your leg, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. “i don’t want to hurt you. i really don’t. but you leave me no choice when you act like this. when you try to leave me.”

tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “noeul, please… you don’t have to do this. i—i’ll listen. just don’t—”

“don’t what?” she interrupted, her voice sharp as her eyes flicked up to meet yours. “don’t remind you who you belong to? don’t show you how much you mean to me?”

her grip on the knife tightened as she pressed it just a little harder against your skin, not enough to cut, but enough to make your heart race with fear. her other hand reached up to cup your cheek, her touch strangely tender as she leaned in, her face mere inches from yours.

“you’re mine, yn,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’ll always be mine.”

the cold steel bit into your flesh, and a sharp, unbearable pain shot through your leg. you flinched, your eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. “noeul! please, stop!” you cried, your voice cracking.

noeul’s eyes flickered with something dark, something possessive, as she continued. she carved her name—slowly, deliberately—into your thigh, her movements so precise, as though she was marking her territory, sealing you into her world. each stroke of the knife sent jolts of pain through your body, and you could feel the warmth of blood beginning to seep down your leg.

when she was done, noeul leaned in closer, her lips parting just slightly as she brought her tongue to the fresh cut. the contact was unexpected, soft, and disturbingly intimate as she licked the blood from your skin, her eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ll always be a part of me, yn,” she murmured, the coldness in her voice laced with twisted affection. “and i’ll always be a part of you.”

you shuddered, the feeling of her touch lingering long after she’d pulled away. the tears continued to fall, but there was no escape from her. no way to deny her hold on you.

noeul stood up slowly, her gaze never leaving yours. for a moment, she just looked at you, as if trying to savor the sight of you in this broken, vulnerable state. her expression softened, the hardness in her eyes fading into something almost tender, though it held an eerie edge.

then, without a word, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead—light and fleeting, like a fragile promise that left you more unsettled than ever.

“i’ll be back soon,” she whispered, her voice softer now, as though trying to reassure herself.

with one last lingering glance, noeul turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence. each step she took seemed to pull her further away from you, but you knew deep down she wasn’t truly leaving. she was just giving you a moment to breathe… before she came back to tighten her grip once more.

the door clicked shut behind her, but the weight of her presence remained, hanging heavy in the room like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

BOOM SHAKALAKAAA I NEED HER and let’s pretend yns cut isn’t gonna get infected..🌚 i’ll probably end up doing a part 2 w smut idk yet tho lmk if u want it🙏 and hit my ask box if u got any reqs 🥸

[anamina0]

Echoes

Part I , Part II , Part III , Part IV , Part V , Part VI, Part VII

Summary: Fleeing the wreckage of your heartbreak, you land in the chaos of Zaun, pouring drinks at a dingy bar. You're still facing unresolved feelings and emotions towards Ellie, but they’re easier to bury when Vi storms into your life—a whirlwind of sharp words and reckless energy. You start off bad, really bad but it's enough for you to think of something else for a bit.

warnings/themes : angst, heartbreak, lots of trauma, kind of enemies to lovers, unresolved feelings, a bit of violence, eventual smut, au

word count : 3.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at it again, falling just where you started , completely alone , full of sorrow and regrets. Moving away to a completely unknown place was the best escape plan - literally. You knew nothing about this city, save for a few stories your best friend had told you. Yet, even the thought of staying in the same place as her couldn’t outweigh your choice - you'd rather wander off Zaun's shadowed streets, losing yourself for a lifetime than remain bound to the familiar.

City was close to what you have imagined. The fractures that happened few years ago helped to a great extent , after decades of suffering, the city had finally exhaled, though it had not lost its soul. Cleansed of its grime, its fumes, and its shadowed figures, the streets and the people remained exactly as your friend had described them—a perfect echo of her tales.

Finding a job wasn't hard , from now on you'd serve drinks in one of the city’s dim, suspiciously isolated bars—barely more than a shadow in the corner of a forgotten street. Pay wasn't good but it was enough for an apartment and food, nothing else mattered to you. You were trying your best to take as many shifts as you could, working whole night helped you not think about her , during daytime you would typically crash out , exhausted from your job. And yet, she always found a way to reappear.

At the bar, you distracted yourself by watching customers. Most of them came for a drink and a chance to ease their burdens, but for you, the real game was observing them—piecing together their stories from a glance, a gesture, a half-heard conversation. Sometimes , thought of her would reappear . Something would remind you of her scent, her voice, slipping into your mind without warning. But you had mastered the art of distraction, shifting your focus before the memories could take root.

It was in your dreams where she would visit most frequently, escape from her was almost impossible, as though she determined to remind you of what you wanted to forget: that no change of address, no new life, could erase her. She was etched into you, inescapably, a part of you as much as your own breath. But you had to move on , that's what you were best at, carrying pain and suffering throughout your life, god knows you've been doing that since the day you were born.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Can we talk?” she asked, her tone calm but firm, as she stepped closer to you.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Ellie,” you whispered, bracing yourself for the inevitable fallout. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” The words spilled out in a shaky breath.

Her green eyes searched yours, unreadable but sharp. “Why is that?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost careful.

“You already know why,” you said, your gaze flickering over her face—her furrowed brow, the tightness in her jaw. Anxiety clawed at your chest, every emotion colliding at once: fear, anger, love, and a desire that burned despite everything. Losing her wasn’t an option, not like this.

“That’s the problem,” she said, stepping even closer, her boots scraping softly against the floor. “I don’t know why. You told me how you felt and then ran off, didn’t even wait for my answer.” Her voice broke slightly, frustration seeping through, though she was clearly trying to hold it together—for your sake. “That’s not fair.”

“I couldn’t take it anym—” you began, but your trembling words cut short as Ellie moved.

Her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm and steady against your skin. “I need you,” she whispered, her voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “More than you could ever need me.”

“Nothing’s going to change that,” she said, her voice unwavering now, as if it was the most certain truth in the world.

* * * * * * * * *

Once again, your own screams tore you from sleep, Ellie had found her way into your dreams.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, the echo of her voice lingered in your ears. You glanced at the clock hanging crookedly on the wall and exhaled in relief—it was almost time for another shift.

You moved through your routine on autopilot: a quick shower, clothes and out the door. The walk to the bar felt like a blur, your thoughts still tangled with fragments of the dream you couldn’t shake.

“Hey there,” you greeted Revek, arguably only person who could be considered as your friend in Zaun , as you stepped behind the counter.

He glanced at you with that signature smirk of his, tossing his apron onto the counter. “Well, well, look who decided to show up. Twenty minutes late, no less.” Leaning against the bar, he crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Alright, what is it this time? Lost your keys? Got cornered by some hooligans? Or let me guess—lost track of time again?” His smirk widened as he tapped the counter, signaling for his usual drink.

“Cut me some slack, you asshole,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like they’re paying me enough to show up on time.” You reached for the shaker, pouring his drink without missing a beat. “I just… had a bad dream, alright?”

The smirk faded slightly as he took the cup from your hand, his gaze softening. “Not again,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. He took a long sip before adding, “You know, if you ever want to talk about it… I’m here.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly, brushing him off with a weak smile. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Now scooch—you’re scaring off my customers.”

Revek gave you a knowing look, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he pushed himself off the barstool, raising the cup in a mock toast. “Fine, fine. Just don’t forget—I’ve got a hell of a good ear for this kind of thing.”

You watched him walk away, trying to shove down the unease crawling up your spine. Fixing your hair in the reflection of a glass, you turned to face the empty bar. The night was long, but at least behind the counter, you could pretend your mind wasn’t a battlefield.

The day had been dragging. The bar was dead slow, with only a few regulars stopping by for a drink and a bit of small talk. You made an effort to keep busy—wiping down the already spotless counter, rearranging bottles, polishing glasses—anything to make the hours pass. Not until she walked in. The air shifted instantly, the tension almost suffocating as the door swung shut behind her. You froze, your hand mid-reach for a glass, and looked up. You’d seen countless faces walk through those doors. From the desperate to the careless, from the downtrodden to the troublemakers, the bar had welcomed them all. Nobody ever stood out—nobody cared about anyone else here. That’s what you liked about this place. People came in, had their drinks, exchanged a few words, maybe played a game or two, and left as if they’d never existed to one another. But her? She shattered that silence like glass. You didn’t know who she was, but everyone else seemed to. Heads turned, conversations halted, and even the usual clamor of the old jukebox seemed to dull in her presence. She strode toward the bar, brushing off the stares that trailed her like shadows. It was obvious she didn’t give a single fuck about anyone in the room. Whatever power she held over the crowd, she didn’t seem interested in wielding it—at least, not tonight. Stopping at the counter, she gave the drinks menu the briefest glance before tapping the laminated surface with her finger.

"Can I have this?” she muttered, her voice low and uninterested, pointing to a drink. Then, without looking at you, she added, “Make it a double.”

“Sure thing,” you replied, watching her as you reached for the bottle. She didn’t meet your gaze, didn’t acknowledge you at all, but that only gave you the chance to study her features: pink hair cut into a sharp mullet, light blue eyes that didn’t seem to care about much, and freckles scattered across her nose like they’d been painted there.

“Here you go,” you said, sliding the drink toward her. She grabbed it without a word, her attention flickering to the room around her. Even now, she seemed utterly uninterested in you—or anyone else, for that matter. She didn’t sip the drink so much as down it, her throat working as the liquid disappeared almost too quickly. You found yourself leaning slightly forward, unable to look away. There was something about her, something impossible to read. You liked puzzles, and she was the hardest one you’d come across in a long time.

Who was she? Some kind of criminal? Or maybe she was the exact opposite? Why was she here? Trying to get drunk, or waiting for someone? Before you could settle on an answer, she tapped the counter sharply, her empty glass sitting in front of her. The message was clear. Another. You poured the drink without hesitation, the silence between you stretching long and tense. As you set the glass down, she didn’t so much as glance your way.

“You’re welcome,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, hoping to at least provoke some kind of reaction.

It worked—but not the way you’d hoped. She turned her head, finally looking at you, and you almost wished she hadn’t. Her glare was sharp, cutting, and filled with barely-contained anger.

“Just do your job,” she said coldly, her voice low and cutting. “I didn’t come here for chitchat.”

She turned back to her drink, dismissing you entirely, but the tension she left behind lingered in the air, coiling around you like smoke. Whatever game you thought you were playing, she wasn’t interested.

“What an asshole,” you thought bitterly, dragging your gaze away from her and down to the bar. The question lingered in your mind—should you say something? Not because you couldn’t stand up for yourself, but because, you weren’t sure if she was even worth it.

She tossed back another drink, her sharp eyes cutting across the room as she motioned lazily for someone to come over.

“Again,” she muttered, her gaze flicking back to you. For a fleeting second, it softened—just barely. But the moment was gone as fast as it came, replaced by her usual aloofness when a tall man approached her with an appearance that screamed trouble. You busied yourself making another drink, ears pricked to catch their conversation.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here, Vi,” the man greeted her, his tone carrying an edge of wary excitement.

She chuckled dryly, grabbing her fresh glass without even looking at him.

“What are you playing over there?” she asked, dismissive, like she hadn’t even heard him.

He hesitated, glancing at his buddies like he was searching for backup. It was obvious he didn’t want her involved, but too afraid to say no.

“Just some boring cards,” he replied with a strained grin. “You’re, uh, welcome to join.”

“I’ll be right there.” Her words were ice-cold as she turned back to you. “Another one.”

You stared at her silently, letting your expression say everything your words didn’t. She noticed. Of course, she noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, she took the drink you handed her and headed over to the table of men, sliding into a seat among the kind who spent their nights gambling away the last shreds of their dignity. Vi. That was her name. At least you had that much now. But she was still a puzzle—a unsolvable one. You watched her, lost in your thoughts, until Revek appeared from the back of the bar, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on her.

“Haven’t seen her in a while,” he muttered, settling onto a stool.

“Who even is she?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Revek leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Remember I told you abour shit that went down three years ago? Piltover, Zaun, all that Hextech chaos?”

You nodded.

“She was part of it. A big part.”

You squinted, piecing it together. “That explains why everyone knows her down here.” You frowned, the anger bubbling back up. “She’s an asshole.”

Revek chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, you could say that. After everything went to hell, she holed up in some dump around here. Doesn’t talk to anyone. Just drifts between bars, sometimes… worse places, drowning herself in cheap booze.”

“Was she always like this?” you pressed, desperate to understand.

“That’s a long story,” Revek began, but his words were cut off by the sharp sound of glass shattering across the room.

Your head snapped toward the noise. Of course, it was her, standing over some poor bastard, yelling and swearing. Revek shot you a look and stood, ready to step in, but you stopped him with a firm hand.

“I’ll handle it,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“You sure?” he asked, hesitation in his voice.

You nodded, already moving toward the chaos. By the time you got there, she was on top of the guy, fists flying with a fury that could have leveled buildings. The crowd around them was frozen, too shocked—or maybe too entertained—to intervene.

“Hey!” you shouted, but she didn’t even flinch.

“Stop it! Now!” you tried again.

Still nothing. She was too far gone, lost in her rage. Without thinking, you moved in to pull her off—but before you could, pain exploded across your face, and you found yourself on the ground, disoriented.

The room went silent.

When your vision cleared, you realized, she had hit you.

Vi stood over you, her expression flickering with something almost like regret. “Shit,” she muttered, reaching a hand toward you. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Get the fuck out,” you snapped, cutting her off as you staggered to your feet.

She hesitated, her gaze locking with yours. You made sure she saw every ounce of your anger, your disgust.

“Now,” you commanded, stepping closer.

For once, she didn’t fight back. She just turned and walked.

Days passed, and thankfully, she didn’t come back. Still, every time you stood behind the bar, her face crept into your mind—her cockiny, her sharp eyes, her unbearable attitude. It filled you with rage. You already had too much on your plate; the last thing you needed was to waste energy hating some pink-haired asshole. But despite yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. It wasn’t all bad, you supposed. At least thoughts of her kept you from thinking about Ellie. But replacing heartbreak with anger wasn’t exactly a healthy trade.

It was another calm day, the kind you’d come to appreciate in the wake of the chaos she’d brought. If anything, her outburst had earned you some respect. The regulars gave you a nod, a look, as if standing up to her had proven something. But the peace didn’t last. The bar doors swung open, and the room fell into an all-too-familiar hush. You didn’t even need to look to know who it was. The tension in the air told you everything.

Vi.

Revek appeared at your side almost immediately, his eyes darting toward her. “This gonna be trouble?” he asked, his voice low.

“I’m fine,” you replied, keeping your gaze locked on her as she strode toward you. There was something deliberate in her steps, something… different.

Her eyes met yours from across the room, and you stood your ground.

“I think I made myself clear last time,” you said coolly, though your voice carried that simmering edge of anger you couldn’t quite hide. “You’re not welcome here.”

“I know,” she replied, stopping in front of the bar. Her tone was calm, almost subdued. “I’ll leave. But first, I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes, studying her. There was no cocky smirk, no sarcastic retort. Just… awkwardness.

“I was drunk,” she continued, her voice low. “That guy said something—something that pissed me off. I lost control.” She hesitated, her eyes searching yours. “It’s not an excuse, but… I didn’t mean to hit you. I would never—”

“But you did,” you cut her off sharply, though you could already feel the fight draining out of you. She was being honest. You hated that you could tell, but you could.

“I know.” Her voice softened even more. “I didn’t see you. And I’m sorry. I really am.”

You exhaled, your shoulders dropping slightly as you leaned against the counter. You weren’t ready to forgive her—not entirely. But you were exhausted from carrying so much anger.

“Fine,” you said at last, pouring her the drink she’d ordered last time. Sliding it across the bar, you added, “I appreciate your honesty. I don’t appreciate assholes, though. And you? You were an asshole.”

A flicker of surprise crossed her face as she accepted the drink. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something else. But instead, she downed it in one quick motion, set the glass back on the counter, and walked out without another word.

She started coming back. At first, you thought it was a fluke—a one-time thing. But no. A few days later, she was there again. And again.

Sometimes she was alone, sometimes with a new girl on her arm, but the pattern stayed the same. She’d order a few drinks, stay for a while, and leave without so much as a word in your direction. She’d read your message loud and clear. But what you couldn’t figure out was why. Zaun was filled with bars—plenty of them even filthier than this one. So why keep coming back to this one? Was it defiance? Did she just not care about the fact that you didn’t want her here? Then there were the moments that left you even more confused. The way her gaze would linger,as she was hanging out with some random girl, her eyes flicking over to you when she thought you weren’t looking. It wasn’t often, but it was enough to notice. Enough to keep her lodged firmly in your thoughts.

Vi was a mystery. An infuriating, captivating mystery. And for some reason, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to figure her out. Maybe it was the distraction she provided, pulling you away from the ache of Ellie. Or maybe it was something else. Something about the way she carried herself, the way she owned a room even when she was silent. Whatever it was, she had you hooked—and you hated her for it.

Today was no different. She strolled in like she owned the place, another girl trailing behind her—a new one this time. She made a beeline for the bar and ordered a round of drinks before sliding into a table suspiciously close to where you were working. Maybe you were imagining things, but it felt deliberate. There were plenty of empty tables scattered throughout the room, especially ones better suited for whatever this was supposed to be. An intimate date? That hardly seemed like Vi’s style. The girl with her seemed sweet. Blonde hair with blue highlights that caught the dim lights of the bar, bright eyes, a soft smile. She leaned toward Vi as they talked, her body language screaming interest. But Vi? She sat back, arms draped casually over the chair, her expression distant, detached. It was like she craved the closeness but couldn’t bring herself to let anyone in.

It was… familiar. Too familiar.

You turned back to the counter, your hands working on autopilot as you wiped down the surface. Yet, no matter how much you tried to ignore her, your gaze kept drifting in her direction. And every time it did, you caught her watching you.

You didn’t like it.

Pouring yourself a drink, you told yourself it was just to take the edge off. One drink turned into two, and before long, the alcohol made everything sharper, more noticeable. You were too aware of her—every glance, every quiet laugh, every time her eyes flicked toward you. When it happened again, you decided enough was enough. You locked eyes with her, letting your gaze trail over her features, daring her to look away. She didn’t. At first, she looked confused, but that quickly morphed into something smug—a slow, cocky smirk creeping across her face. She leaned over, whispering something in the blonde’s ear. The girl nodded, and just like that, Vi stood and headed straight for you.

“Hey there,” she said, her voice calm but carrying that familiar edge of arrogance. Her eyes bore into yours, steady, confident.

“Well, look at you,” you quipped, leaning casually against the bar. “Turns out you can talk.”

She smirked. “Can you blame me? You called me an asshole and made it pretty clear you didn’t want me to talk to you.”

“Both of those things are true,” you replied with a dismissive shrug, though the faint trace of a grin played on your lips. You blamed the alcohol.

“So let me get this straight,” she teased. “You don’t want to talk to me, but you want me to talk to you? Maybe even acknowledge you?”

“Oh, I’ve noticed you acknowledging me,” you shot back, your tone dry. “Not with words, though.” Your hand idly wiped at the counter with a cloth, pretending nonchalance.

Vi chuckled, brushing off your jab. “Fair enough. Since you’re so insistent, let me drop the ‘asshole behavior’ for a minute.” She leaned in slightly. “I don’t even know your name.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to meet her halfway. “It’s Y/N,” you said, your voice firm. A beat of silence lingered between you, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, with a small smirk of your own, you added, “Now get back to your date. Don’t keep her waiting.”

You didn’t wait to see her reaction. The sudden surge of emotions made your chest tighten, and you dropped the cloth and glass onto the counter, heading for the backroom.

Intimacy—it wasn’t something you wanted. Not now. Not with her. Even the smallest brush of warmth from someone else felt like an open wound. You were comfortable in the cold, with the pain. Examining Vi had been easy, safe. She was uncertainty and sharp edges, not softness. You closed the door behind you, leaning back against it and exhaling deeply. Maybe one of these days you’d figure out what Vi was really doing to you. But not tonight. Not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note from author: It's my first time writing something ever please please please let me know if you liked that! I think that this fic will have 6/8 parts , so there's a lot unfold here. I kinda changed finale of Arcane, because Vi and Caitlyn don't end up together. Also, I have included Ellie as reader's ex girlfriend, so she will have more appearances in future. It would mean world to me if you shared my work (if you liked it of course) and please don't hesitate to message me, ask me questions about it or let me know what are your thoughts! Thank you!

[cameronwillow]

Soulmates.

R.C x fem reader

Your long term boyfriend John B cheats on you with his soulmate, Sarah Cameron. And you decide you need revenge. And what better way than with the man he hates most? Rafe Cameron.

Thank you anon for requested this uploaded again!

C.W: Cheating, oral fem recieving, (I think that’s it)

Being cheated on by your long term boyfriend was hard enough, losing a friend group was another heartbreak. John B and you had been together since you’d graduated high school. After you moved here from a small town in the south during your sophomore year. You stuck out like a sore thumb with your hyper feminine clothing and routine.

You carried around a purse with the essentials, wallet, phone, taser and lipstick. You were a senior in college now, going for law school and you had come to your shared apartment with a gift for John B. Grinning, you opened the door but the box fell out of your hold at the sight of him laying on the floor naked with Sarah Cameron.

Your face dropped and they both scrambled to cover up. You stood in silence for a few seconds before John B began babbling words,

“It just happened, I didn’t know she was my soulmate, it just appeared and I was going to tell you tonight-“

That fucking unfortunate information sent you into a rage. You screamed, threw things, even chased after John B with your purse until you managed to calm down. The tears sprang on but you willed yourself to leave. He offered to move out but you couldn’t accept.

It held too many memories so here you were. Crying while shoving a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth, looking at your old friend group with John B and Sarah Cameron. It was a self destructive path, to doom scroll and torture yourself with the photos of them showing their tattoos.

The soulmate bond was uncontrollable. Once the connection was formed, matching tattoos appeared on your ring fingers. The image itself was the moon cycle when the bond sealed. This phenomenon was ancient. Viewed as old school, disregarded even here in the outer banks. You had been with John B and the Pogues so long, it didn’t matter to you that the official bond didn’t come.

You isolated yourself in your childhood bedroom at your parent’s home. They were on vacation, celebrating their anniversary so you couldn’t even have their comfort during the breakup. Sniffling, you flipped over on your side and curl into a ball.

Fuck him, you thought angrily. He couldn’t have had the decency to break it off. Tell you before betraying the history you had together. Sarah Cameron was the middle child of a family as close to royalty as they came here. She was known to rebel against her Kook father and step mother as she graduated high school years ago. You never were friends, friendly at best if you ran into her after leaving your shift as a barista.

He couldn’t get away with this. Neither could the Pogues choosing his side and excluding you. Your jaw set as you stared at the wall, an idea forming. It was extremely petty. Risky and could lead to a dramatic fall out. However, if it was done right, it would be satisfying.

You felt like a fish out of water. Wearing a light colored dress, makeup applied and hair up as you approached your target. Rafe Cameron.

He was the oldest of the Cameron’s, a few years above you with a bad reputation. Bad temper, abrasive personality and instilled fear into many. However, one thing he was, a smart businessman.

While your parents were Pogues, your grandparents were Kooks. Making your childhood and teenage years a little less harsh than your old friends. You got invited to some parties, had some level of respect that other Pogues didn’t.

This made you feel a little more confident to give Rafe the proposal you had in mind as you strutted forward. He came to an expensive Brunch spot in between meetings with his laptop. Mostly because he wasn’t allowed to yell in a public place without consequences.

You hadn’t seen him in person in a while and he didn’t post a lot of photographs of himself. His buzzcut a new accessory and he wore casual clothes. Rafe typed away, not noticing you until you stopped at his table.

His brows furrowed at your shadow and then his blue eyes lifted. Rafe sat back a little, a ghost of a smirk curling his lip and he scanned you. Openly checking you out and his gaze lingered on your exposed skin.

“Hey,” He said your name with a nod and you cleared your throat. You couldn’t lose your nerve now.

“Hey. Do you have a minute? Can I talk to you?” You ripped the bandaid off and Rafe glanced at his computer.

“Yeah, I can talk for a bit.” He shut the laptop, gesturing expectantly at the chair across from him for you to sit.

You sat down, back straight and set your hands on the table. Fingers splayed and he glanced at them. He noticed the bare skin, no tattoo.

“I’m assuming this is about John B.” Rafe offered and you winced. “Yeah, heard you uh, really freaked out.” he had laughter in his voice and you glared at him.

“He deserved it. So did your little sister.” Rafe didn’t seem to care for that but you pressed on, “And he shouldn’t get away unscathed. Neither of them should.”

Rafe hummed and leaned forward. Elbows on the table and exposing his muscles. He waved his hand, encouraging you to finish. “Well? Spit it out.”

“What if we pretend to date?” You said quickly, “Just to get under their skin. They all dropped me and I want them to see I’m doing good. Better than good. With the person they hate.”

Rafe snorted and then openly laughed. He smoothed his hand over his face and your jaw tightened.

“I’m glad you think this is funny because I don’t. I walked in on the man I love fucking your sister and you think that’s entertaining?” Your voice was raising and Rafe shushed you.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

You perked up, tilting your head but he held up a hand.

“But there’s gonna be conditions.” He declared and you sank into the chair. “Don’t pout. You don’t even know what they are.”

You kept quiet as Rafe assessed you with a hint of curiosity. “Conditions are, this is just pretend, don’t get attached to me,” the roll of your eyes did nothing to halt his sentence, “We don’t embarrass each other and lastly, I’m not doing this as a just a favor.”

You held your breath, waiting and Rafe brushed his nose with the knuckle of his finger.

“I get to taste you. At least one time.”

Sighing, you snorted. “That’s it? You want to kiss me?”

Rafe blinked at you in a condescending way. “No. I don’t kiss someone unless I like them. Maybe. I mean taste your pussy.”

Your glossy lips parted and hackles raised on the back of your neck. You didn’t immediately answer. Was it unreasonable? Not necessarily. It wasn’t like he mentioned actually fucking you. It was rude. But this was Rafe Cameron. You were asking him to help you with ridiculous revenge and if you got to cum once out of it, then you could live with that.

“Why that specifically? I’d expect you to want a blow job.”

Rafe exhaled and for the first time, he lost a glint of confidence but it returned just as quickly. “I like to be in control. And you’d be getting your pussy eaten, so why the hesitation?”

It wasn’t much of an answer but you decided your fate. Extending your hand, fingers decorated with delicate rings and Rafe met your grip. Shaking it firmly.

“Deal.”

“Good. Luck would have it, I could use a guest at the grand opening of a new business tonight. I’ll pick you up at five. We can take a picture together. Post it and all that shit girls do.”You let go of his hand with a gasp. It was already noon.

“What? That’s not enough time to get ready!” Rafe opened his laptop again, continuing whatever he was doing previously. “Better get going then.”

Growling in the back of your throat, you stomped away. You hoped John B and the crew regretted it as soon as possible because you couldn’t deal with the insufferable man long.

You were a half step from throwing a full tantrum when you rushed out of the house. Normally you had days in advance to prepare for an event. It took you almost forty minutes to pick an outfit. You hopped around on one foot as you slipped on a different pair of heels and Rafe opened the passenger door from the inside.

His blue eyes were light with amusement and he gave you an appreciative once over. “It’s a grand reveal of a business. Didn’t know you needed a ballgown for that.”

You snarled and slammed the door shut after landing in a heap in the seat.

“Hey, watch the door. This car was fucking expensive.” Rafe hissed but you rolled your eyes and turned your body away from him.

“I’m sure you have another one,” You looked at your pink polish on manicured fingernails. Rafe reached over and turned up his music. You made a face of distain and he snorted.

“What? What sort of awful pop music do you listen to?”

“Oh? Making assumptions are we?” You perked up and Rafe nodded before handing you his phone.

“Play something then if it keeps you from breaking my car.” You make a face at him and select a song from one of your favorite bands.

Rafe jolted slightly at the sound of explosive metal playing, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and fear. You crossed your legs and sighed in contentment.

“You’re kidding. Bubblegum princess likes screamo?” You nod along and mouth the lyrics, ignoring his little comment. Rafe doesn’t turn it off but keeps driving.

Minutes after a car ride of loud music and awkward tension, Rafe gets out of the car and you gather the material of your dress. He opens the side door, extending a hand while glancing at your heels.

“Shall we?” Accepting, Rafe sets his hand on your lower back, slowing his pace to match you as you enter the modern building. Big windows, clean smells, sharp cut designs and workers carrying trays of small portioned food. Glasses of alcohol and men wearing suits looking skeptical over the shine of the floor.

Everyone turned to look at you both stepping inside. Focusing on his contact on your body but they quickly shifted into greetings. No doubt to keep their positions. You plastered on pleasant listening expressions and let Rafe do all the talking.

You accepted a glass of champagne to keep yourself occupied as the time went on. Rafe knew his work well. You’d never heard him sound so sure of himself.

When he wasn’t occupied, you pulled out your phone. Opening the camera and picking out your favorite filter. Rafe gave his typical selfie face, bending down slightly to meet you more comfortably but you scowled and turned to him.

“If this is gonna work, you have to look like you like me.” Rafe remained still for a few seconds and then dipped down to press a kiss to your cheek. You quickly reached back up to snap the moment and made yourself remain calm as Rafe wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, tugging you close to him.

You took a couple of photos, feeling your skin on fire as he pulled away. His lips faintly covered in blush makeup. “We good?”

You looked at the selfies, mildly impressed at how genuine they looked and you noticed how Rafe had the smallest smile as he kissed your cheek.

“Yeah. Those look good. Thank you. I’m gonna post them.” You began uploading them on instagram and Rafe waited until they finished loading. He set his hand on your phone.

“Time for your end of the deal when this is over and I take you home.” You gulped but resigned. You agreed and fair was fair.

You made yourself keep your phone off until you were safe in your room. Rafe played his ridiculous fuck boy music as he drove you home and you pressed both thighs together tightly. You were nervous. Unsure why though. Rafe was hot and you were fully benefiting from this but it was the idea of eating your pussy was his reward. Sure, John B seemed to like it but never asked for it. You tapped your fingers along the beat of the song as he pulled into the driveway and shut it off.

You opened your legs, pulling up your dress and Rafe seized your knee. Squeezing firmly.

“Hold on. I’m gonna take you inside at least. I’m not a complete asshole.”

“Just get it over with.” You spoke and kept your eyes on the garage door. He caught your chin between his fingers, turning your head towards him.

“Nah, we’re gonna do it my way and it’s the right one. Besides, we wouldn’t be comfortable in my car. I’m too tall.”

“Brag much?” You glanced anywhere but his eyes and Rafe clicked his tongue.

“Don’t act all shy now, sweetheart. Show me inside like you have some manners.”

You carried your heels as you walked ahead, letting Rafe in your childhood home and into your bedroom. He looked around, lifting things up and started to open drawers.

You smacked his hand. “Stop it. Don’t mess anything up.”

Rafe caught your wrist, lightly tossing you to the bed and you squeaked as he mounted you. He had taken off his suit jacket but left everything else on. The look in his eyes held lust and a primal energy that had you breathless. His warm rough palms were heavy as he lifted your dress, admiring the curves of your hips and legs. Rafe ran his fingers along the material of your panties, smirking at the dampness growing in the center and he nudged your legs wider.

“You wanna know why I really wanna do this?” Even though it was a question, you didn’t answer and just stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Because I want you to know what whatever John B did with his cock is pathetic compared to me. I can make you cum harder with just my mouth than anything he ever did.”

Rafe grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, slapping his hands in your inner thighs and you gasped. Overwhelmed by his words and actions you were too distracted to protest.

He pulled your panties to the side, aggressively pinning your legs down with his forearms but he surprised you with his gentle way of kissing your pelvis. You whimpered, nipples hardening as he worked his way down and opened his mouth when he reached your pussy.

Rafe groaned, inhaling deeply so he could enjoy the smell of you and starting messily making out with your cunt. Your breathing was sharp, hands instinctively reaching for his head as he spread you even further and sucked your clit between his lips.

He wasn’t shy at all, his sharp jawline bumping your ass as Rafe licked the underside of your clit after lightly nipping. Your back arched and you started humping his face.

He curved his mouth so he could press his tongue inside you, moving his head to get every angle and you were closer to the edge faster than ever.

You were moaning, high pitched desperate sounds and the bed shifted under you. Lifting your head, your eyes were glassy as you saw Rafe palming his bulge and thrusting into his hand as he savored your pussy.

You hadn’t been touched like this in a while. Even before walking in to the sight of John B cheating on you, he had neglected you. Not paying attention to the ways you left yourself open for his touch.

Your ex boyfriend was soft whenever you were intimate. Never showing an ounce of roughness or dominance. Unlike Rafe, who was both of those things even when he was on his knees for you.

Your orgasm came like a storm, pulling you into bliss as a wail escaped you. Your hands were scrambling to put his free one on your tit, guiding him to squeeze it as he licked you through it.

Your entire body twitched as he didn’t stop but his own sounds of pleasure echoing through your room as Rafe came in his pants. Your eyes squeezed shut and he slowly lifted his skull. His mouth and chin were dripping with your slick.

Rafe’s eyes were hazy and you prepared for his quick departure but he crawled over you and slammed his lips to yours in a kiss. His fingers held your chin and his soft lips moved with yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing and your arms around his broad shoulders.

He met your tongue, sucking it into his mouth and then your lower lip. You tasted yourself and Rafe’s hand drifted to your back. He held you close to him with a new level of…tenderness.

Rafe broke away, sucking in gulps of air and brushed his knuckle against your cheek.

You both made a sound of pain and he shifted off of you. It was a pinch, deep to the bone of your ring finger. It ended just as quickly as it came on and you both looked at your hands.

There were matching moons. The cycle of the night.

You felt the air knock out of you. Despite the fucked out appearance of your messed up dress, panties to the side and bruised lips.

Your gazes met each others.

“No fucking way.”

Rafe Cameron was your soulmate.

Dividers by @starkeysprincess and @bloodibambiidoll

Tagging @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @webbluvrsugar @fear-is-truth @marchsfreakshow @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @hornyxdreamsx2 @redhead1180 @rafeyscurtainbangs @xxladymjxx

[joonberriess]

animal farm. ☆ j.jk + k.th

⋆ TAGS — dark!tae + jk, morals are zero bc it’s the apocalypse, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, TW: non-con to dub-con as oc adapts to survive, captivity, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, pregnant sex, fingering, creepy sleazy!tae, yandere elements, open-ending beware it’s not a good one, angst, death (just the zombies lol), jk’s a hunky daddy, possessive tae and jk, obsession, somnophilia, mentioned abortion, “fuck them kids” - oc, debatable happy ending, misogyny and objectification, outdoor sex(?), thigh fucking, mentioned/hints of body dysmorphia bc oc DOES NOT want to be pregnant

⋆ WORD COUNT — 13.3k

⋆ now playing: animal farm - bibi ⋆

You’re not sure how much time has passed since the outbreak—days, months, years—time was a relatively foreign concept, all that was left was to survive. Didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether it was night or day, the days were all the same in the end.

The day it happened started like any other day: you woke to a flurry of messages wishing you happy birthday, and you were greeted by the sight of your pup running around in excitement as you prepared for the day. You were going to work a short shift that day (courtesy of your boss) all your co-workers had pitched in to buy you a nice cake from the bakery down the street. Your mom even promised to call you later on given the distance between you and her.

Everything was just as you remembered—a blue sky, people commuting, the sounds of traffic—it was just another regular day. After work you stopped to buy a bottle of wine, too busy chatting with the cashier to notice the storm of police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks passing by. The rest of the way home you listened to music, blissfully unaware of the nearby fires and rising smoky black skies.

Night came, prepared a delicious pasta and served a rather large serving of wine. Your dog sat by the front door the entire time, posture stiff and tail straight as he stared at seemingly nothing. That should have been the first sign.. After setting the pasta aside to cool your phone rang and you smiled. “Mom-”

“Listen to me,” she sounded desperate, “do NOT go outside, no matter what you hear or see y/n, STAY INSIDE.” She bites out in a fearful tone, “Your father and I are going to try and head over there, for the love of God please stay inside.”

“Mom, what's happening? Is everything okay? Are you and dad oka-” Suddenly the sound of a nearby building blowing up makes you jump. Your apartment rattles and you lose your balance, falling over as the phone slides away from you, “Mom?!” You scramble to your feet and run to the windows, yanking them all the way back to reveal the chaos unfolding..

The world around you is in flames, people are running and cars are being crashed or abandoned. You see helicopters storming the sky all around, endless police cars are scattered below your apartment and you hear the sounds of gunshots from every direction. Your eyes widen in horror as a plane comes crashing down somewhere downtown, and then more screams erupt alongside a few rather..inhuman sounds.

“y/n?! y/n?!” You snap your attention back to the fallen phone.

“M-Mom?” You crouch down and pick up the phone, “What’s happening?” You tearfully whisper. You hear the same chaos unfolding on the other side of the line, your dad is yelling something in the background while your mom tries to tell you a bunch of things all at once.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she softly whispers in a wobbly tone, “we love you so much, never forget that.” You hear a gunshot and your dad yelling some more, “Get to your uncle,” she cuts off by a loud screeching noise, “we’ll meet you there—!” She gasps as the screeching turns into animalistic noises, “Never forget—we love you.” The line cuts dead. You stand there in complete silence with an endless flow of tears streaming down your face.

The wine and pasta sat cold all night, then the night after that, and after that. If you were to go back there you’d probably see what was left of your apartment, most likely scavenged and destroyed by either survivors or whatever the hell those things were.

And to think that it had been just another random day..

You never did get to see your parents. You wondered if they died on their way to the farm or if they never stood a chance leaving in the first place. You like to believe they’re out there somewhere safe, that they found refuge with other groups far away from chaos. Like your father had once said: you keep finding something to fight for.

And that’s what you intended.

+

“Dammit.” You whispered under your breath while pushing through the endless shrubs and tree branches in your way.

By now every city was covered from head to toe in vines and other plant life. Apart from the obvious decay everything would have looked normal if it weren’t for the fact that there was a darkness lingering in the shadows. Cars, bikes, and trucks were scattered around, sitting as a reminder of the way things were once. It played like a bittersweet memory in the back of your mind as you pushed forward.

You brushed your hands over the front of your shorts and looked around the area. It was quiet all around with the only sounds being the wind blowing the overgrown grass all around. You had finally made it to Daegu after walking for two months straight. Your body ached and you were sure your feet had blisters from all the walking (occasional running) you did.

A few times (more than you would like to admit) you reached a breaking point where you wanted nothing more than to give up and go back to your uncle’s farm. Yet somehow some-way you would regain your strength and keep pushing—for family. It’s how you ended up all the way down in Daegu, just another month or two (maybe three) away from Busan.

You were far too deep to stop now.

You uncapped your water jug and took greedy sips as the water ran down your chin and throat. “That’s better.” You murmur softly as your parched throat absorbs every last drop of the water. You take a second to sit down on a nearby rock to bring your map out.

“Okay.. If I’m here,” you trail off while running your finger over the lines of the map, “then that means I go this way..and turn here to—” You immerse yourself in your own thoughts, ignoring the sound of your stomach growling. You shift from side to side, ignoring the heavy weight of your shotgun tucked away in your backpack, sticking out like a sore thumb.

So far you didn’t need to use the gun (yet), your encounters with those unruly beasts were minimal since they had taken to hiding in buildings. Crazed survivors were unlikely, most were hidden away too and if they were out you simply snuck past them until you felt like you could breathe again. You’d say you were doing a pretty damn good job at conserving your ammo etc.

“Alright,” you sigh heavily and put your map away, “up I go.” You mumble and start heading down the grassy street, just looking all over the area. You always did want to visit Daegu, guess it was your lucky day.

The street comes to a dead end as you stop in front of two tilted buildings crashed into each other with endless rubble surrounding the area. “Just my luck,” you groan out, seeing as there isn’t another option as you hop up the rubble, making your way into the dark desolate building.

With every step you take your heart begins beating faster, chances that those things are swarming the building are high. Your heart drops even more when you realize that the only way out that was straight ahead of you is blocked off by debris. You stop in the middle of the room, looking up as you inhale deeply.

“Only way out is going up then..” You mutter and grab your flashlight.

Everything is silent around you save for the drops of water hitting the ground and echoing off the empty halls. You work your way around the decaying bodies and thrown furniture surrounding the halls. Finding another way out of the building was something you had not planned on doing, but it seemed like you were going to have to get to higher ground to scope the surroundings out for an exit.

“Ah-ha,” you light up when you realize this building has balconies. A triumphant smile forms on your lips as you head up a small flight of stairs to reach the next floor where the balconies were located. You kept a close eye and ear out for any strange movements, you weren’t alone after all.

As you move to step over a piece of debris, suddenly a large part of the ground rumbles before breaking off and falling through the second floor. Your entire body goes still. You begin breathing heavily as you shakily reach for the shotgun in your backpack. Seconds of silence pass, you stand there with the shotgun in your hands and your face twisted in fear.

Nothing happens until you hear it..

A low faint croaking sound—click, click, click—there’s soft thuds as the creature moves around, getting closer and closer. You’re too scared to turn around or even make a sound. The floor behind you creaks and the creature gets closer, idly squeaking and croaking. Your only mistake is letting out a fearful breath, because suddenly the creature stops and screeches loudly, lunging at you at full speed.

You take off down the hall, pushing past the stone and rubble with the damned thing hot on your heels. Right as you think it’s about to snatch you right up with its bubbly deteriorating arms, an arm lunges out and yanks you into a room pressing you right up against the wall. You flinch violently and stare at the mysterious person in front of you, you can’t help but tremble as you open your mouth.

The stranger gives you a pointed look, slamming his hand over your mouth as he presses himself tight against you, “If you don’t wanna end up dead just sit the fuck still and be quiet,” he harshly whispers while looking out the corner of his eye to see if the creature is still after you.

Your grip on your shotgun loosens, you both stare at each other in silence as the creature stops outside of the room, croaking as it looks for you. When the thing comes close by the open doorway you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. It doesn’t go away for another few minutes, when it does it ventures into another room across the hall, its noises slowly fading away until it’s fully gone.

The guy lifts a finger over his mouth and softly makes a “shh” sound. You nod slowly and he slowly lifts his hand off, “Follow me,” he quietly mutters and grabs your hand. You don’t even struggle as he leads you far away from the room, and out some doors that lead to a fire escape. “Careful, the metals all worn out. Don’t need you fallin’ on me.” He says as he begins climbing down.

You stand there quietly trying to think if it’s a good idea to follow this guy. Probably not but you were the one with the gun here, not him. “You coming or what?” He says in annoyance, already halfway down the ladders.

You snap out of it and quickly follow, “Yeah, yeah.” You softly whisper.

When you reach the last set of ladders the stranger is already waiting for you down on the ground, he watches you silently with no expression on his face. “C’mere,” he holds his arms out, “I’ll catch you.” You shouldn’t be so trusting but for some reason you just let yourself fall into his arms. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as you curl into yourself out of fear, “Relax, scary part’s over.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“T-Thank you,” you mutter, still shaken up over the incident, “I really appreciate what you did back there, I haven’t seen those things since this entire thing started. I guess I wasn’t so prepared to go against one up close like that,” you mutter while kicking a rock around.

He shrugs, “I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared to face off against one of those things.” He sighs while looking around, “You got somewhere you gotta be or you just like wandering into abandoned buildings in your free time?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, a small grin grazing his lips.

It’s not the best idea to ever tell a stranger where you’re going especially given the situation the entire world is in. “I was just trying to scavenge,” you finally say after a few seconds, “I was running out of a few things so I decided to get some air while I was out.” You can’t keep eye contact with him for the love of your own life. His gaze is pretty intense and he seemed like the type of person who kept eye contact throughout an entire conversation.

“Ah,” he nods, “I was too, but then I heard the commotion and decided to see what was up, and you were there.” He chuckles, “Kim Taehyung.” He holds his hand out.

“y/n.” You reply softly and take his much bigger hand into yours, “Well, I think I’ll be going now. Can’t keep my group waiting.” You trail off nervously when his grip tightens instead of letting you go, “Um, Taehyung..? My hand?” You whisper out.

Taehyung hums, “It’s getting pretty late isn’t it? Sun down is around the corner and well, it doesn’t seem pretty ideal to walk around all by yourself in the dark now is it?” He tilts his head.

He’s right, you can see the sun start to set slowly and the world around you is painted in a dark orange-yellow hue. Your little lie wasn’t going to keep up much longer if he decides to walk you to your “group”. You nod slowly, “Yeah.. I guess so.” You rub the side of your arm as a chilly breeze sweeps over the both of you.

“Wanna come back with me to my place? Not far, just a ten minute walk from here, even got working water and electricity.” You perk up at the last two things which ends up making him laugh, “Yeah I know, you’ll see what I mean.” He begins pulling you along with him, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything,” you quickly say, “I can just go back to my group, ‘s not a problem really.” You wince a little when his grip begins to become painful.

Taehyung shakes his head, “ ‘s not safe out here at night, just stop being stubborn will you? You looked ready to give up back there with just one of those things, now imagine dozens?” He chuckles humorlessly with his head still turned away, you sigh quietly and go limp finding it no use to fight back because he clearly wasn’t going to let you go which in itself looked like an entire red flag.

He leads you to another building, you notice the slight change in temperature when you walk into the darkened lobby, it’s slightly warmer.. “How did you get the electricity to work?” You wonder out loud while looking around.

“Turns out the power generator wasn’t completely ruined, wasn’t very hard to get it going again and well, now we have working water and electricity.” He shrugs while guiding you down the hall and stopping in front of a door.

You frown in confusion, “We?” You tilt your head, “There’s someone else?” Oh this wasn’t what you were expecting, now you had to stay alert for not only Taehyung but his fucking friend too.

“Yeah, Jungkook.” He says like nothing while punching in the keycode, “He’s one of the guys I met when this all happened, we stayed together—no not like that,” he chuckles, “he’s a good friend of mine.” He gives you a bright smile before pushing the door open.

You’re hit with warmth and light, the entire room is lit up and you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. This makes you reminisce about the past when you would be coming home after a long day at work, cooking something up and unwinding with your pup on the couch. Your heart twists bitterly as you clutch your backpack closer, you hear noises come from the kitchen and you turn your head in alarm.

“Relax, that’s Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles as he guides you into the living room with his hands over your shoulders, “Jungkook, this is y/n and y/n, Jungkook.” He cheerfully introduces you two like you’re longtime friends or something, “I saved her from a clicker just now.” He briefly says to Jungkook.

Jungkook gives you one good look, dark eyes trailing over you before he turns his back, “You guys hungry?” He breaks the tension in the room, it has you sagging in relief that he wasn’t rude or didn’t see you as a threat. “She looks like she’s seen better days, don’t be fucking rude Tae let her shower n shit the food is almost ready anyways.” He comments while shaking some spices into the food he was making.

“Oh shit, forgot about that. C’mere, bathroom’s this way.” Taehyung pushes you down another hall, “Hot water n everything so go crazy. Clean towel’s there, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in there. I have some extra razors, don’t know if you’d need them or anything I don’t know but yeah.” He smiles, “See you when you’re done.” He leaves after that.

You stand in the bathroom quietly for a few seconds, you don’t like the ugly little feeling you get in your tummy from being around these guys. You’re grateful and all but you can’t help the distrusting feeling you get. With a heavy sigh you set your things down and begin undressing out of your clothes. The water feels so amazing against your sore muscles, you stand under the shower just basking in the luxury of hot water with your eyes closed.

Cleanup goes fairly quickly, you helped yourself to one of the razors Taehyung mentioned to you and took your time in scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your body. Now that you think about it, it made sense earlier as to why Taehyung didn’t look dirty or anything. This explains a whooolleeee lot now.

“Hey y/n,” Taehyung calls out as the door opens, “Came to give you something.” He says like it’s no big deal at all while he enters the bathroom.

“T-Taehyung..!” You gasp in shock, throwing yourself into the corner of the shower while staring at the curtains in terror, “Whatever it is, can you just please drop it somewhere! Kinda not in the best situation right now,” you clutch the loofah close.

Taehyung laughs, “Calm down, I just came to give you an extra pair of clothes. Yours are kinda worn down no offense, it wouldn’t make sense to re-dress in nasty clothes after cleaning yourself now would it?” He says as he moves around the bathroom.

“Thanks..but um..can you…?” You trail off.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he breathily chuckles, “Jungkook says the food’s ready, see you out there.” He heads out. You wait for him to close the door but when you hear no sound you peek your head out of the corner of the curtain, “My bad,” Taehyung holds up your tattered clothes, “kinda cute that they got little bears all over them.” He motions to your underwear.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, “Stop looking!”

“I will!” Taehyung lets the door slip shut, his laughter fading as he disappears down the hall. You sigh in relief and let your back hit the wall, what the hell was even that? You were definitely going to be leaving ASAP with the way Taehyung seemed to lack boundaries with literally ANYTHING. First he was touchy and now he’s looking at your underwear shamelessly? That was a no-go.

“I swear I locked it..” You mutter while washing your hair.

After your hot shower you slip out and dry yourself with the towel, you were curious to see what clothes he brought you. You notice it’s a large black shirt and a pair of boxers sitting neatly folded on the counter. Better than nothing you guessed while dropping the towel and dressing yourself. The boxers fit like oversized shorts on you which you’re pretty glad for.

Your heart drops when you see that your backpack isn’t there anymore. A lot of things seem to be running through your mind all at once, was this the end? Were you going to die now? All because of a hot shower?

“Oh there you are,” Jungkook comments when you walk into the same room from before, he notices your panicked state and chuckles, “relax, Tae put your things over there by the door. He put your clothes to wash too.” He nods his head in the direction of the laundry room, “You hungry?” He holds up a bowl of hot food.

“Thank you..” You softly whisper while going over to sit at the table, your mouth waters at the sight of hot food, another luxury you couldn’t afford in this world after leaving your uncle’s home to go to Busan.

Jungkook eyes you appreciatively in his clothes as he sets the food down in front of you, “Glad to see they fit.” He comments, “You can start eating by the way, Tae’s gonna shower so it’ll be just us two til he gets back.” He lazily shrugs while sitting across from you.

He set out an array of side dishes like rice, kimchi, wood ear mushrooms and other stuff that looks really tasty. The two of you eat in silence with Jungkook humming occasionally at the taste or something like that. You don’t really want to talk much either so you’re grateful for the quietness between the two of you. The food is really amazing too, it fills your ravenous hunger you’ve had for the past week since running out of granola bars.

“So,” Jungkook leans back in his chair, “Tae says you’re a part of a group huh?” He tilts his head, “Kinda explains the shot gun n shit. Loads of ammo too.” He picks up a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth.

“Yeah..” You mumble, “I was just scavenging, had to cross through the building n yeah that’s how me and Tae ran into each other—or more like him saving me.”

Jungkook nods, “Okay… so why don’t you tell me the real truth? No bullshitting either sweetheart, we’ve been here for how many years and never have we ever seen or heard of a group past that building or on our side.” He smirks, “C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.”

You stare at him in awe and realization that you’ve been caught, “Fuck okay,” you sigh heavily, “Originally I was staying with my uncle in the outskirts of Suwon after the whole apocalypse happened, for years now I’ve been believing my parents are still alive and out there, problem is out there is literally all the way down in Busan,” you see him perk up at the mention of Busan, “so I’ve been walking ever since trying to get there to find them, they’re farmers, if they’re out there they’re probably still in the old farmhouse I grew up in.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he nods, “I’m fuckin’ impressed you made it this far, shit not even me who was stranded Ulsan when this all happened.” He shakes his head, “Guess we all got something that keeps up goin’ huh.” He leans back in his chair with a hum.

You stare down at your food, “Yeah..” You whisper softly.

The silence is broken when Taehyung comes out of the hall, towel in his hair and a pair of low hanging sweats clinging over his hips as he whistles, “Looks good,” he says to Jungkook while taking a seat next to him, it’s only then you fully see that he’s not wearing a shirt at all. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment as Taehyung laughs, “What? Something on my face?”

“No you idiot, obviously someone you fucking just met wouldn’t wanna see you half naked ‘n shit you pervert.” Jungkook elbows his friend.

“I’m not though,” Taehyung snorts, “I’m sure she’s seen worse than this,” he shoots you a wink to which you hunch your shoulders together sheepishly.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “So did basic etiquette also fly out the window when the apocalypse happened or what?” Taehyung doesn’t reply anything because he’s too busy stuffing his face, Jungkook’s eyes land back on you and he sits up, “You look sleepy, you can take my room if you want I’ll sleep here,” he nods, “and before you panic I’ll take your backpack to you too.” He smirks.

You slump in your seat with a sigh, “Thanks..”

“No need.” Jungkook curtly replies and gets up as he brings your backpack over, “Follow me.” He treads down the hall with your things flung over his broad shoulder.

“G’Night pretty,” Taehyung grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at you up and down, “very fuckin’ pretty..” He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating.

You shiver, and not in the good way either. You follow Jungkook into another room, he’s already setting your things down and bringing out pillows, “I usually sleep without one but here’s some I had in my closet,” he sets them down, “not that there’s much to steal but please don’t take my shit. I trust you.” He gives you a firm pat, squeezing your waist as he slips by you.

“Thank..you..?” You turn to watch him.

“Yeah, yeah no funny business. Night sweetheart.” He lets the door slip shut quietly.

The first thing you do is lock it, making sure the door is jammed before you take one of his chairs he had and press it right up against the knob. When you feel like no one can enter you finally slip into the comfy bed, groaning in relief as your sore body slumps into the sheets. It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper bed to lay in. You roll around before curling over a pillow and hugging it tight to your chest.

Your tired eyes slip shut and you fall asleep comfortably for the first time in ages.

+

You pry your eyes open when a beam of sunlight hits you across your face. At first you’re confused and disoriented but then everything that happened to you yesterday comes down as you recap quickly. You slowly sit up with a loud yawn, looking around the room in daze. Everything is as you left it, and the chair is still propped up against the door.

“Time is it..” You mutter and look around. You find a clock on the wall and squint your eyes to read the time. “Oh,” it’s noon. You shuffle out of bed despite your limbs protesting as you look around for your things, you had an extra change of clothes in your backpack anyways so getting your old clothes was not a issue.

The weather as of lately has been pretty bipolar, hot or breezy so you never knew what to expect. You figured it was springtime anyways. You dressed in a loose white flower printed camisole, another pair of brown shorts over black tights and managed to slip your boots back on.

“Alright,” you bring out your map and check the streets etc, “took me here..so now we go this way,” you mutter quietly while reading the map. You had made sure to catch the name of the building before entering last night. That way it would be easier when leaving. “Okay.” You smile and fold the map back up.

You step out of the room with your belongings on your back, treading down the hall quietly as you come across Taehyung and Jungkook setting the table, “Oh you’re awake.” Jungkook says as his eyes drop to your hands where you’re clutching the straps of your backpack.

Taehyung pauses and turns to look too, “Oh…” He trails off, visibly upset that you’re already going. “ ‘s pretty dangerous out there.” He comments with a blank look.

“I’ll find a way.” You reply curtly, “I appreciate you guys letting me stay the night but I really have to go now. Thank you.” You bow in appreciation, Jungkook doesn’t say anything and instead Taehyung makes his way over to stand in front of you.

“At least stay for breakfast yeah? C’mon there’s no harm in that.” Taehyung pleads while setting a bowl down on the table, “Plus, why would you even wanna go? Those things are still out there, they’ll tear you apart the first chance they get. Just stay, yeah?” It’s no longer, stay for breakfast, rather Taehyung is now openly begging you to stay.

Your breath hitches when you see his hand come up to touch your shoulder, you jerk away and take a step back, “I’m leaving Taehyung, thank you from the bottom of my heart but I’ll be fine.” You say firmly while stepping past him.

Jungkook calmly stands there with his arms over his chest, he looks down at you and hums, “You’re not leaving sweetheart,” he calmly says, “why don’t you get that backpack off and sit down so we can all eat together.”

When it becomes apparent they have no intention of letting you leave you snap, “Get away from me!” You shove Jungkook as hard as you possibly can, watching him stumble out of shock as you duck past him and slam the front door open.

“y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells out.

You don’t waste another second and run down to the exit, kicking the door open and heading down the street towards the way you were supposed to go. Adrenaline kicks in like never before as you whip your head back occasionally to see if they’re following. You’re pretty far when you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exiting out the building looking both ways before they see you and start running.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper while jumping over fallen things and rocks.

They’re yelling a bunch of shit that you don’t care about, your main focus is to get the hell away from them. You duck into a building, taking note that it’s a mall as you manage to run up the escalator. “She went in here!” Taehyung says not far behind.

You hear their heavy footsteps as they run up the steps too. You see a rack sitting there so you throw it down and keep pushing forward. Jungkook curses loudly while he and Tae push through the mess on the ground. You see a clothing shop with a half-closed metal overhead door as you fall to the ground and slip under it to the other side.

The crawlspace was small enough for you, you’re confident Taehyung and Jungkook were going to have to pry it open (if they even could) to follow you. “Shit,” you hear Taehyung, “she went through here.”

“Move.” Jungkook reaches to yank at the door.

Your eyes widen in horror when you hear the door creak, showing signs that it would in fact be opening up more. You run to the back of the store, barreling in as you look around for a exit only to find that you’re in a simple storage room. There was no other exit, the mall in fact must not even have those backroom exits.

Your eyes tear up as you shakily back up into the wall with no other choice but to bring out your shotgun and aim it at the door. You hear nothing but your fast breathing and pounding heart in your ears. Any moment now… Your finger curled over the trigger as you bounced your knee in anticipation.

A beat passes before the door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall full force as Jungkook comes barreling in. You jump in absolute fear, aiming blindly as you pull the trigger. “Oh shit!” Taehyung yells, he doesn’t bother entering the room at first as he ducks to the side of the doorway after the bullet grazes the wall next to the doorway.

Jungkook yells something you can’t really make out through the ringing in your ears from the deafening noise. He wrestles the shotgun out of your hands, tossing it to the corner far away from you both. “Hey, hey,” he loudly curses, “calm down will you?!” He grunts.

Taehyung slips into the room and comes over to pin you down, “Shh, shh, we’re here now y/n,” he says as he leans down to nose along your shoulder and neck, “ ‘s safe with us.” He whispers in his deep baritone voice.

The fear combined with the stress (and adrenaline) of the situation sends you into a full blown panic attack. Your vision begins getting spotty and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out. Probably from how malnourished you were given that the past few weeks you’ve been surviving on one granola bar every week.

You yell and twist around, loud sobs pouring from your lips as you thrash endlessly. “N-No! Please! Let me go,” you hiccup through your tears, “stop it,” the fight begins slowly draining out of you. They coo and murmur deceivingly sweet things in your ear, their hands roam all over your body while you lay there limp. “P..lease..” You quietly plead one last time before the world around you begins to fade.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t you worry. Never gonna let you outta my sight,” Taehyung whispers, “....s.afe..with us.” You manage to hear right before losing consciousness.

+

5 months later..

Everyday waking up felt more like a chore and the only time you ever found yourself looking forward to something was going to sleep. Sleeping was like some sort of escape from reality where you would find yourself dreaming of the day you reunite with your parents. Another dream you frequently had was you being back at your uncle’s farm living day by day in utter peace surrounded by the people you loved.

It was a pretty memory that would be ruined the moment you woke up to find either Taehyung or Jungkook over you.

They were like animals, they had no self control and acted like a bunch of hormonal teens around you. Taehyung especially, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off nor his pants on. You lost track of the days inbetween sleeping or them fucking you like no tommorrow. Waking up sore between your legs or with cum dripping from your gaping pussy was a familiar feeling.

Taehyung was the more shameless one between the two. He’d fuck you almost every chance he got with his hands never straying from your body for more than two minutes whenever he was around you. He kept you chained in his room by the ankle on his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and those bear printed panties you came to hate. They were ruined the minute he’d lay with you, hand stuffed deep inside and his long slender fingers buried knuckle deep in your soaked pussy.

You hated that your body responded very well to his touches, hell you’d even slick up to the sound of him entering the room with the amount of times he fucked you or had his hands on you. Taehyung’s mouth was even filthier with the amount of shit he said in that husky tone whenever he had you pinned under him—knees pressed to your shoulders as he folded you in half and punched his cock deep inside your bruised cunt.

“Just needed a cock in you pretty, didn’t you,” he’d whisper while grinding his hips in slow circles with his cock rubbing up against every crevice of your pussy, his balls pressed tight against your ass as low squelching noises filled the quiet bedroom.

Jungkook was used to the sounds of the headboard banging or bed creaking against the wooden floor. He’d lay awake in his own room with a hand wrapped tight against his cock while he listened to you cry and mewl in pleasure. Other times he’d walk into the room just to see Taehyung balls deep in you with your legs spread wide and a string of white creaminess sticking to Taehyung’s pelvis and cock whenever he pulled out of your messy pussy.

At the moment you were curled into your side, balling up under the warm sheets as you tried to find more sleep. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning you begrudgingly accepted that you weren’t going to be getting any more sleep. Your puffy eyes cracked open as you stared over at the window. The curtains were closed but from the tiny corner you could see that it was night time already.

Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to come back, they said something about getting some things they needed from the mall. A tiny part of you wished they wouldn’t come back though. Maybe they’d be ambushed by those things and eaten alive (your biggest fantasy was them getting their cocks ripped off for what they’ve done to you). You could only dream, you sigh wistfully.

You sit up in bed and look around the dark room, there’s nothing much to do so you end up doodling in your sketchbook for a bit before laying back down just dreading the arrival of your captors. They get back around midnight, a little over an hour after you had woken up. Your eyes are slipped shut as you try to fall back asleep, and right when your body and mind both shut down the door is opened.

Taehyung comes in silently, humming under his breath as he sets some bags down on the ground. You don’t pay much attention, just curling into yourself with closed eyes while he goes about with whatever the hell he’s doing. The sound of Taehyung unbuckling his belt is enough to have your pussy throbbing, already slicking up for what’s about to come. He shuffles around and slips his shirt off, and then his pants.

The bed dips low and creaks under his weight when he climbs in next to you. You squeeze your eyes tight and try to breathe normally. Taehyung’s hand falls on your thigh and rubs over the soft skin slowly, each time going higher and higher until he’s playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your skin prickles all over with goosebumps as he quietly laughs under his breath.

“Look so pretty like this,” he mumbles while leaning in to hide his face in your neck, “bet your little pussy’s all wet for me too..” He dips his fingers in and slides them through your chubby folds, “Fuckin’ soaked—got you waiting for this cock huh?” He circles his fingers over your wet clit, “C’mon pretty, open up for me. Know you’re awake,” he rasps out and rubs faster.

You breathily sigh and fall into the bed pliantly while he plays with your clit between his long slender fingers. Taehyung slips his fingers between your dewy sticky folds, going right over your greedy hole. It clenches around nothing and you wait with a bated breath for him to slip them inside.

“Hear that baby?” Taehyung whispers as his lips slide over your neck and suck on a particular spot, “Messy little thing you are,” he comments while pressing his crotch over your ass and letting you feel the hard print of his swelling cock from inside his boxers, “don’t worry though—not gonna be empty for long, gonna fill you up and give it to you real good pretty.” He rasps out.

He rolls his hips in the tiniest of circles, letting out deep sighs and grunts while he plays with your pussy with one hand and the other grips your ass cheek. He squeezes the doughy cheek and pulls it apart to expose your puckered hole, “Gonna fuck you here too one day,” he rolls his hips more insistently, “gonna make all your pretty holes mine.”

You bite back a mewl when his thumb flicks over your clit in rapid sweeping motions, it has you grinding into his hand and simultaneously pushing back on his hard cock. You feel it slot between your cheeks—hot and throbbing—as it slides over the rim of your asshole. You weakly clench down on nothing, pussy pathetically spewing more slick and dribbling between your silky folds.

“One day,” he mutters, “not now.” Taehyung reaches up to steady you by the hip. You hear shuffling in the back as Taehyung kicks his boxers off, letting the dampened material fall to the ground. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, he racks the oversized shirt you’re wearing up around your waist and tugs at your panties with two fingers. “Open a little wider for me pretty—there you go, that’s it.” He purrs.

Taehyung wraps a hand around the back of your knee and holds it up as he lifts your leg into the air. You bite your lip and turn your face into the pillow to hide in, “Keep it up here for me,” he murmurs while letting go.

You can hear him fist his cock from behind you as he takes his cock and slaps it over your folds repeatedly. “Fuck,” he sighs almost dreamily while positioning the mushroomy tip at your clenched hole, “relax n let me in baby, good girl.” He murmurs while kicking his hips forward and pushing his cock into you.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’, no noise escaping as he fills you inch for inch with his heavy fat cock. This spooning position does nothing but make you aware just how big his cock is, you feel fucking stuffed and full of him with the rim of your pussy stretching a bit painfully to accommodate him. Taehyung releases a low growl and shoves himself into you impatiently. His hips smack against your ass with a loud squelch.

“Shit…” He sighs out like he’s relieved to be buried deep inside you, he shifts around and presses himself closer to you. You feel him drape himself over your back with his face buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He breathes your scent in and moans quietly while circling his hips slowly, cock shifting from side to side inside of you.

“God you feel so good,” he whispers as his hand grips your hip tight, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to fuckin’ this pussy.” He moans once more and presses in.

You double over and fist the pillow you’re laying on tightly, you can feel his hot thick balls press snug against your ass with each grind and thrust. Taehyung’s busy sucking marks into the back of your neck, he rolls his hips smoothly and occasionally bottoms out and presses into you deeply. His cock reemerges drenched in copious amounts of slick, the noise it makes is filthy as he pushes in deep.

“Shit, like that.” He moves faster, humping into you in quick little rolls as your cheeks smack against his pelvis repeatedly.

Your mouth opens and you quietly pant into the hot pillow, ears burning when you hear the squelching and the sound of his balls connecting to your ass from where they swing. Taehyung moans into your ear and slips his hand down your front to spread your pussy apart in a ‘V’ shape, “C’mon baby, play with yourself.” He huffs.

Most likely if you don’t do it he will so you slip your hand down and circle your clit with your fingers. You rub in circular motions, matching the speed of his thrusts. You can’t help the strangled moan that you let out because he pairs this with perfectly aimed thrusts, cockhead brushing over your g-spot repeatedly. The noises you held in begin spilling from your lips, you whimper and whine quietly while laying three fingers over your clit and rubbing side to side quickly.

“You gonna cum baby?” Taehyung gasps, “Can feel you getting tighter,” he grunts while smacking his hips into yours harder.

You throw your head back on his shoulder and gasp loudly when his cock bumps into your cervix. It hurts but the pain blends easily with the pleasure. Taehyung digs his fingernails into your side and tightly holds on to you while fucking into your pussy harshly. The slapping noises fill the entire room, the sheets shift and the bed rocks into the wall from the force of his thrusts.

“W-Wait,” you gasp breathlessly while your pussy squeezes tight, “fuck—Tae-hyung..!” A garbled cry escapes your lips as your pussy floods wetly, you cum with a high pitched cry while burying your face into his pillow—body shaking like a newborn lamb.

Taehyung hisses and quickly rolls his hips, driving his swollen cock into you over and over again like it’s the last time. He lands a tiny slap over your pussy causing you to cry out in oversensitivity. “Oh shit,” he gasps and slams into you three times before coming to a stop and riding the rest of his orgasm out with tiny grinds. He milks his cock out with a long sigh, pressing in to make sure none of it slips out.

You’re left laying there panting harshly while he warms his cock with your cunt. Only when his cock softens does he let it slip out with a nasty squelch. You can feel a sticky trail of slick and cum bubble between your folds, a small string still connected to his flaccid cock. “So messy,” he mutters while rolling out of bed to bring back a towel.

You stare at the wall with disoriented eyes and a wet ass/pussy.

The very next morning over breakfast Taehyung tells you about a surprise he has for you. You’re suspicious as hell but go along with it and wait patiently for him to give you his “gift”. Nothing good ever comes from him so you’re pretty sure this gift is something more for them than it is for you. When he pulls it out you mentally sigh, proven right.

“Aren’t these pretty?” Taehyung grins while showing off the pretty dresses, “I found ‘em in that store from last time and thought they’d look good on you.” He licks his lips, “Try ‘em on.” He’s not asking, he’s telling you.

You begrudgingly change into one, noting how short it is given that it ends right under your ass. You stand there and let out a deep sigh, “This is the worst..” You mutter while fixing the straps.

“You comin’ out yet pretty?” Taehyung calls out.

“Fucking hell, can’t you wait.” You angrily tug the dress down and unlock the door, “I’m going.” You roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway and to them.

Their eyes naturally shift lower, staring shamelessly as they lick their lips hungrily. “Fits like a glove.” Jungkook nods, “Do a little spin for me sweetheart,” he sits back and man spreads on the couch, “slowly.” His eyes drop down to your exposed thighs.

You slowly turn in a circle stopping when they ask you to. Taehyung whistles lowly while Jungkook hums in appreciation, “Maybe these pretty little dresses are the only thing you should wear around the house, makes you look like a pretty little housewife.” He chuckles.

“She does, doesn't she? If it were up to me she’d be my little housewife walking around with nothin’ underneath leaking with cum and a pussy stuffed full.” Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to your tits where they push against the dress, smushed together from how tight that area was.

“Pretty little thing was made for it.” Jungkook nods with a low hum. You’ve never felt less human.

That night, Jungkook brings you to his room and has you slip on another one of the dresses Taehyung got you. Except this one literally leaves your entire ass hanging out no matter how much you tug on it. It’s a silky dress embroidered with lace and frills, you know you’re not going to stand a chance. He’s already looking at you like he wants to eat you, he lays there with an arm behind his head on the bed, just ogling you in appreciation as you change.

It’s over the moment you turn around. Jungkook quite literally throws you on the bed and pins you down under his hard, heavy body. He wastes no time in pushing the dress up and pinning you with your knees touching your shoulders. His pace is frantic and hard, thighs smacking and balls smacking into you as he fucks like a madman.

The bed violently hits the wall and creaks loudly under the weight of you two. He really has you crying and screaming in pleasure from how rough he was with you. His own grunts and moans rising in volume to match yours. He fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, each time hurting a little more from how sensitive you were. Your cunt’s rubbed raw, glistening with precum mixed with your slick as a ring of white forms around the base of Jungkook’s cock. Some of his creamy cum drips down between your ass cheeks and on to the rim of your puckered hole. It splatters a little when his balls collide with your ass, staining both him and the bed sheets.

The room’s hot, it stinks with sex as Jungkook fucks you over and over again on the bed. You mewl shakily and kick your dangling feet in the air when he rolls you two over the edge of the bed, your head hangs as he buries himself deep in your pussy and grinds in quick motions. Jungkook has either arm beside your head, caging you in as he watches your expressions with hooded eyes.

“Fuck.” Jungkook bites his lip and moves faster, “Look so goddamn perfect, gonna have this little cunt bred by the end of the night. You’d like that wouldn’t you baby—to be stuffed with my cum dripping?” He breathlessly asks, brow pinched in concentration as he rolls his hips.

When you don’t answer he lands a smack across your ass, tightly squeezing it in his hand afterwards. You mewl quietly and nod, “Answer me baby, wanna hear it from your sweet little lips.” He growls and lands another smack.

You hiccup and sob softly, “Y-Yes..! W-Wanna you to fill me up.” Your toes curl as you shudder when his cock hits your g-spot. All this movement and your head hanging quickly has you recoiling in dizziness as he jostles you.

Jungkook moves his hands and falls into you with your chest pressed to his. He wraps his hands around both of your ass cheeks and grips them tightly while pumping his cock in and out of you. Your thighs tremble in anticipation, cunt greedily swallowing him as low wet smacking noises begin to grow louder.

“Gonna cum sweetheart,” he rasps out with sweat dripping from his brow, “shit—so fuckin’ tight.” He shudders while leaning into you.

Your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders as you hug him tightly, sobbing when his pelvis glides over your clit and traps the sensitive bud between you and him. He fucks in quick thrusts, cock punching in and out of your creamy pussy. You lay there whining quietly as he uses you to get off. His moans turn breathier and quiet until he stops and goes silent.

His cock throbs and twitches, hot cum painting your pussy white as he empties himself in you. Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he finally stops coming, he tiredly lays himself over you and pants, swallowing quietly as he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum again but you’re fine, it would have hurt anyway.

“Shit.” He mumbles as he rolls off of you lays side by side, staring up at the ceiling with his wet cock hanging out all bare without a single care in the world. You shakily roll to your side and curl up.

You knew these damn dresses were gonna be trouble..

+

Something’s off…very off.

For almost a week now you’ve been getting sick and throwing up meal after meal, maybe they were poisoning and finally putting you out of your misery. You wished.. You were sleeping way more than usual and everything just hurt more, even sex—not that it didn’t hurt before but suddenly your clit was too rubbed raw to touch and penetration was starting to hurt and ache? Something was very wrong and they knew it too.

“You think it’s the food?” Taehyung asks while sitting at the table with you and Jungkook, they often talk like you aren’t even there at times. “Or like maybe it’s the flu or something, been finding the window left open at night, could be that she got some air.”

Jungkook eyes you in worry, “I don’t think so Tae, she barely even has anything in her stomach to begin with and she keeps puking her guts out.” He sighs deeply, “y/n baby, how long has this been going on for hm? Weeks?”

You shrug and stare down at the hot food on your plate, “I dunno, not really hungry though.. Just wanna sleep.”

Taehyung frowns, “You need to eat something, wait—maybe she’s on her period or something and it’s probably hitting her really hard. Are you?” He turns to look at you as he waits patiently for your answer.

You open your mouth to say no but then sit there in shock, period.. When was the last time you even had one? Your heart begins pounding as you try to think back to your last cycle, sure you didn’t think about it too often but still it was something you kept track of so things didn’t get super messy in the middle of your travels. They call your name three times before you finally look up at them.

“I haven’t gotten a period.” You whispered, “Last I remember was I think a month ago, wait no I think two..” You begin shaking in your seat, this means one thing for sure.. You look up at them, they’re both sporting surprised looks but Taehyung’s face quickly morphs into one of excitement and happiness.

“So that means..” Taehyung grins, “ ‘s my baby,” he proudly claims, “must’ve knocked her up real good.” He chuckles quietly, dodging Jungkook’s hit, “What?? She’s the one who sleeps in my bed more than you! You’re just jealous it’s not your baby.” He smirks.

Jungkook sighs, “Tae, maybe instead of being so happy about knocking her up worry about her fuckin health.” He glares before turning to you with a soft look, “C’mere sweetheart, let’s get you something for your stomach yeah?” He stands and goes over to guide you into the kitchen, “Tae, run out and bring some pregnancy tests!”

“On it!”

You’re numb the entire time Jungkook talks to you about different meal options, his hand never leaves your waist and he occasionally strokes his thumb over your tummy. How could they be so happy knowing the circumstances behind the baby—or rather this parasite inside of you. Just thinking about the thing made you sicker, and quite frankly more angrier.

“Baby?” Jungkook looks at you in confusion, “I asked if you wanted to have some broth with crackers, it’ll be light on your stomach and will do good for the baby.” Baby… You looked down at your stomach and stared at it, so that’s where the little shit was. “Baby?” He cups your face in his hands.

“Anything is fine,” you mutter, “doesn’t matter now anyways, ‘m basically an incubator.” You glare.

Jungkook ignores your little aggressive comment, “Don’t be like that, ‘s not good for you or the baby. Gotta make sure you’re well fed mama,” he mumbles as he brings you closer, “gotta be a good mama for the baby alright?” He cups your tummy.

You feel frustration bubble up, “I don’t want this fucking parasite in me,” you seethe, “I didn’t ask to be pregnant, I didn’t ask for any of this! I would have been perfectly fine in Busan with my parents if you or Taehyung hadn’t bothered me!” You yell angrily, “Baby this, baby that—what about me?! I’m a human being! This is my life we’re talking about!” You shove his hands off of you.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, “You’re just cranky and moody, understandable sweetheart,” he reaches over to grip you by the throat, “but let’s not get too over your head yeah? Is this all because of Busan? Throwin’ a fit like a goddamn child?” He glares.

“Yes! Exactly that Jungkook, I was doing so fucking fine before YOU or Taehyung.” Your eyes well with tears, “A-And now-now, I can’t even see my parents anymore because I’m stuck here everyday inside of a small ass apartment chained like a goddamn circus animal waiting to be used!” You sob hysterically, everything you’ve held in at this point just erupting.

You hate that he gives you a sympathetic look, he brings you into his arms and you’re too weak to fight against him, “Oh baby,” he rocks you side to side, “when will you understand that your place is with us, we keep you SAFE. We feed you don’t we? We protect you? What more are you asking for?” He says softly like he’s talking to a child or something.

“I-I want to see my mom and dad,” you hiccup, “wanna g-go to Busan ‘n make sure they’re alive ‘n healthy. Please!” You paw at his arms and cling to him like a child, “Please ‘s the only thing I’ll ever ask for!”

Jungkook stares down at you while you cry and beg, he gently rubs his hand over your back and hums, “I’ll talk to Tae about it,” he pulls back to look down at you, “but you have to take care of yourself for the baby’s sake.” He calmly says, “No ifs or buts, if you don’t we’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest sitting on the tip of your tongue, “...Okay..” You mutter.

“Good girl,” Jungkook grins and ruffles your hair, “now go sit down, I’ll call you when the soup is ready.” He ushers you out.

Taehyung and Jungkook spend the entire night talking about it, you can hear them from the bedroom where you sit in pure excitement and hope. Jungkook argues that maybe it’s time to find a new settlement out there, he says something along the lines that raising the baby in the countryside is far better as the infected are less likely to populate rural areas. Taehyung argues that they’re fine altogether given the endless supplies nearby and the running water and electricity they have.

“Jungkook you’re not understanding, I’m gonna be a dad now and I can’t be having y/n walk for almost two months straight in this state. She won’t make it,” Taehyung sighs, “she’s fine here, safe and sound where she has water and heat to keep her warm at night.”

Jungkook releases a heavier sigh, “Tae, there’s a high risk of raiders and you know it. What if we’re out getting supplies one day and someone finds her and the baby? Then what? Or how about when the baby gets here you wanna keep them inside these four small ass walls for the rest of their lives? Is that what you think is best for the baby?”

You sit with a bated breath, waiting for Taehyung’s reply. You’re fucked if he says no, because Jungkook will NOT go anywhere unless Taehyung comes with. You feel your heart twist bitterly as you stare down at your hands, if Taehyung says no you really think you’ll resort to murder just to escape..

“Fine. We’ll go but if it’s far worse we’re heading straight back got it?” Taehyung grunts, “Can’t believe I’m agreeing to this shit.” He mutters while heading out to the patio.

You smile widely and lay back with your head turned to the window, admiring the bright moon, “Soon..” You quietly whisper to yourself.

Please wait for me..

+

The three of you set out one crisp Autumn morning, you almost forgot what the outside looked like given that you were only given the luxury of the windows in the apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung keep you close with a hand around your waist or wrapped around your own in a tight hold.

“Gotta cross that bridge to catch the highway that leads us into the countryside roads to Busan,” Jungkook says while reading the map, “from there I think we should be good and just keep walking straight.” He sighs as he folds the map back up.

Taehyung hums in acknowledgment as he reaches over to slip his arm around your waist and tug you close, “You good baby?” He asks softly, “Don’t want you overworking yourself.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You nod while looking around the area, “I’m fine, wanna go now.” You tug at his hand and follow after Jungkook. They try to make conversation with you but you’re fully locked in on one thing: Busan.

It takes up almost a day to make it to the bridge and get on the highway, luckily those things aren’t out in the open so the walk is much easier and stress free. You pass the time by admiring the plant life around you and remembering what once was when you come across clothing shops and closed restaurants.

The wind blows the flowy dress you’re wearing, you would have preferred something like jeans or whatever but they swapped out almost all of your clothes for dresses. You liked them and they were cute and all but this was something you would have liked to wear for yourself back at home and not for them.

“Look,” Taehyung stops in his tracks to bring you over to the bridge railing, “kinda looks nice yeah?” He smiles as the wind blows through his hair.

The three of you stand together watching the water below calmly moving in one direction, birds fly high over your heads and into the pink-ish sunset. You smile to yourself and nod, “I like it. Super nice.”

Jungkook leans his head over your shoulder and hums, “Pretty like you.” He comments to which you ignore. The three of you stay a little longer before Jungkook pats you gently on the back, “Alright, time to go. Gotta find somewhere before sundown.” He warns and takes your hand in his, leading you away from the peaceful sight.

You insist to them you’re more than fine walking through the dark with them but Taehyung’s absolutely not having it. He gives you one glare and you’re left to sulk in the dark quietly, begrudgingly following the two into a spot for the night somewhere off the road in the overgrown grass. Jungkook makes sure the area is clear before he lays out your sleeping bags on the ground.

“Calm down, Busan ain’t going nowhere sweetheart,” Jungkook comments when he sees how uneasy you are, “here lay down.” He pulls you in and tucks you into the warm sleeping bag, “All this walking won’t be any good on you,” he leaves the ‘or the baby’ out given your feelings about the pregnancy, “gotta have you well rested.” He mumbles and leans down to press a gentle kiss over your lips.

You stare at him with an incredulous look, you rather keep walking day and night if meant getting away from them two and reaching your parents quicker. Any more of this and you’re going to lose it, you grumble quietly and snuggle into the sleeping bag turned away from them. “Night.” You curtly reply.

“G’night pretty.”

.

Sleep comes fairly easy but you’re still a bit uncomfortable from laying on the cold hard ground. You spent at least a good hour tossing and turning before sleep took over and sent you into a state of peace. Though by now you knew that peace was never an option, not with these two on your ass half the time.

Your eyes flutter open in confusion, you take in your surroundings for a few seconds before realizing you’re flat on your back. You note the familiar weight sitting on top of you and the slick noises down below. “Hn?” You try to make out who it is but it’s difficult with their face buried in your neck.

“Awake pretty?” Taehyung whispers into your ear, “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear with a low moan, “Sorry baby, couldn’t resist seeing you so pretty in the dresses we got you.” He slurs out, you notice he has a hand stuffed between the two of you with his heavy cock in his hand, “Had to have you,” he breathes out while laying his pelvis flat against yours, “feel that? You did that.”

His cock’s all slicked up and hot as it presses against your inner thigh. There’s no use in fighting back as you let your thighs fall open to accommodate him. Taehyung makes a pleased noise as he grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. It bumps and nudges against you which in turn makes your clit throb with excitement. You huff quietly and angle your hips low to see if his cock will bump into your clit again.

Taehyung’s cock slips and slides over your cunt, you begin to grow annoyed and reach down to shove your panties down. He eagerly helps you slide them off with the material getting stuck around your ankle. When he goes to spread you open with his fingers, you let out a pained cry and shove at his hand weakly. Your clit and hole were more sore than you thought.

“What is it baby?” He asks with worry etched onto his face.

You shake your head, “Hurts,” you reply softly and move his hand away, “don’t like it, it hurts.”

Taehyung moves his hand away from your cunt, “Won’t touch you there then baby,” he murmurs while kissing your lips as an apology.

You huff quietly and wiggle around with a pissy glare, “And now my back hurts too.” You shove at his chest and grumble, “Off, off.” Taehyung doesn’t budge, instead he lets you roll over on to your side to alleviate the pressure. Your eyes snap over to him when you feel his cock slip between your thighs.

“Shh..gonna use your pretty little thighs sweetheart.” Taehyung whispers as he rolls his hips slowly. You let your head drop back to the pillow with an annoyed huff, his cock occasionally brushes over your clit from where it sits snug against your pussy. Doesn’t hurt but it bothers you.

He quietly moans and pants under his breath while using your thighs to get off. His leaky cock leaves trails of pearly white cum smeared over your thighs and cunt. Some of it even gets your cheeks wet, making the heat you’re feeling more unbearable. “Can’t wait till you’re bigger pretty,” he whispers, “gonna look so good full of our baby.”

His hips snap upwards when he says that, “ ‘s like you were made to be bred,” he growls and reaches down to slip a hand into your dress, fondling and squeezing your tit in his hand, “got such pretty tits, look at ‘em,” he grunts while slapping one, “can’t wait till they’re leaking with milk.”

You shudder in disgust at the thought, you already felt like you weren’t in your own body, him talking about its upcoming changes has you gagging. You choose to ignore anything related to the pregnancy, closing your eyes and trying to block out his words.

“Oh fuck,” he shudders, “gonna always keep you full and swollen—gonna breed you over and over again pretty.” Taehyung rolls his hips faster and faster until he stops with a shaky sigh, cum shooting out in white ropes over you and the sleeping bag. He stays still for a few seconds before pulling his spent cock from between your thighs.

Great, he ruined your sleeping bag.

.

The air around you is hot despite the season being autumn. You trudge along behind Jungkook while toying with the sleeves of your hoodie which has long been discarded and tied around your waist. Jungkook says it’s only a matter of days before you’re all in Busan. You’re just relieved the gruesome trip is finally coming to an end and you probably won’t have to see them ever again.

Dealing with both Taehyung and Jungkook was slowly starting to work a nerve inside of you. As your pregnancy progressed so did the symptoms that came with it. Your back hurt like a bitch, your tits were sensitive, and your mood swings were very random. Everyday was a challenge with these two they just wouldn’t leave you alone and in peace. Not to mention the thing inside of you, it was the main source of all your headaches and morning sickness.

“There’s a gas station up ahead,” Taehyung points, “let’s head there to take a break, yeah? My fuckin’ feet are killing me.” He groans while adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands. “And don’t start with me y/n, we all need a fucking break,” he shoots you a warning glance.

You kick a nearby rock and glare back, “I wasn’t going to say anything.” It comes out more snappier than usual, something about today just had every nerve in your body sending you into overdrive.

Taehyung shoots you a look, “You don’t have to, I can already feel you complaining about why we have to stop.” He mutters, “All you’ve done since we left Daegu. Not all of us wanna walk till the fucking sun starts to set.”

You whip around to give him a piece of your mind when Jungkook tugs you over to his side, “Tae,” Jungkook gives him a silent look before he turns his attention to you, “I just wanna rest in peace, so please let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves and keep it moving. Fighting isn’t gonna get us there faster either.”

“Well maybe picking fights with a pregnant person isn’t so bright either.” You spit out angrily while walking faster.

Taehyung scoffs, “Oh so now you’re pulling the pregnant card? After all this time acting like the baby doesn’t even exist to you, I see you.”

You whip around and stop walking, “Because it doesn’t! This fucking parasite inside of me doesn’t exist to me and it never will. I never wanted it in the first place and now I’m stuck with it in MY body, so maybe that explains why I fuckin’ hate it and don’t talk about it!” You hiss.

The silence is deafening. Jungkook doesn’t seem so shocked you lashed out but Taehyung absolutely looks livid with the way you talked about the baby. You don’t care, if anything you’re smug because at least he knows you hate the thing. “If it were up to me,” you speak lowly, “I would have gotten rid of it the moment I found out.”

And with that you stomp off towards the gas station. “y/n! y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells but Jungkook says something along the lines of ‘let her be’. You huff angrily and throw the door open to the station, it’s dark and dusty as hell in there but you’re too angry to really care. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” You mutter while looking around for something edible, preferably chocolate.

As you’re looking up and down the aisles you hear a quiet thud. You briefly look up with a pinched look, “Probably one of those idiots.” You mutter quietly while going back to looking for candy. The noise gets louder and once again interrupts your search, “What the fuck.” You sigh in annoyance and look over at the backroom.

The door suddenly slams open and a mangled body comes barreling out, screeching loudly while flailing around and knocking things over. Your eyes widen and you drop the candy bar you had in your hands, “Oh shit.” You make a run for the door, head whipping back to see the zombie launch itself from the other side to you, its hands outstretched and swinging wildly.

“Jungkook! Taehyung!” You fall through the door and crawl away desperately as the thing wraps its hand around your ankle to yank you back, “Help me!” You sob and desperately kick at the thing.

Taehyung aims the rifle and shoots without hesitation, it takes at least two shots to keep the thing down. “Fuck are you okay?” Taehyung runs over to pull you up into his arms, “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” He paws all over and inspects your body for any bites or wounds.

“I-I’m okay.” You quietly whisper and look back at the store, “I-I don’t know if t-there’s more in there.” A tiny sob bubbles up as you hide your face in his chest and grip his shirt tightly.

Taehyung looks over at Jungkook and silently nods, “Hey you’re okay, look at me,” he cups your face, “you’re fine, ‘s nothing we already got rid of it.” He whispers while brushing your hair out of your face. You weakly nod and stay close by while Jungkook checks for any more infected inside of the station.

Taehyung’s practically glued to you after that, and not that you want him close by but in a way he helps calm you down. Jungkook had quickly gathered food and water before the three of you set back out. The walk was silent save for the sounds of birds chirping and crickets hiding in the tall grass. Everything just feels so unreal right now as you still process your near death experience.

“I think we have to go that way,” Jungkook quietly says, “leads to the countryside—you said your parents lived away from the city right?” He says and stops in his tracks to look at you.

“Yeah.” You look at the map in his hands. “If I’m right we only have a good hour to go, farm’s not that far from here. I recognized the road cause my dad used to take me through here whenever we were going into the city.” You say while reading one of the familiar road signs.

Jungkook nods, “Lead the way then.”

The three of you walk through the dirt, passing by big farms and bus stations that definitely make you reminisce. You haven’t been here in so long it feels weird, you would have loved to come when things didn’t hit the fan and everything went into chaos. You can’t hide the anticipation on your face, it was practically eating at you.

Taehyung notices this because he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, “Any closer?”

“Yeah.” Your heart pounds in your chest, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re not so sure you’re prepared for what’s about to come. If your parents aren’t there—no, they are, you’re so sure of it. Something tells you they’re fine. You’re so excited you nearly barf.

You come to a stop when the three of you reach the wooden gate entrance, Jungkook is quick to open the latch and push the gate open. “y/n,” Jungkook calls out in surprise because you immediately start heading to the house. You ignore them and their calls, stumbling over your feet as you make your way to your home. Your eyes get watery from the swirl of emotions you’re feeling.

‘I did it.’ You run on to the porch and push the door open, “Mom! Dad! It’s me!” You call out loudly while heading into the living room, “Mom?” You look around frantically. Everything in the house looks untouched, the windows are open as the white curtains flutter with the wind. You feel your heart drop a few times here and there but you’re more excited than anything.

“Mom! Dad!” You head into another room and look around frantically. Nothing is out of place and the house looks well taken care of, so where were your parents? You take a seat on a chair, ignoring the sounds of Jungkook and Taehyung entering the house. Where were they..? You begin to tear up.

You catch a small white envelope sitting in the corner of the table. You reach over and your eyes widen when you see that it was addressed to you. With frantic hands you tear it open and begin reading, eager to find out where your parents could be. As you’re reading Taehyung comes into the room and leans over your shoulder with a curious look. You don’t even reprimand him for reading something that doesn’t concern him.

“..I knew you would come looking for us, it’s in your nature to be stubborn as hell like your mama,” Taehyung reads out loud as Jungkook pauses whatever the hell he was looking at, “we didn’t think you would be content with staying put, and if for whatever reason you find yourself here we’re gone. We’re safe if you must know, we’ve left to a settlement with others where we hopefully can rebuild the life we once had. When you’re ready come to us, you’ve made it this far kiddo I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting to us. For now rest, I assume you’re tired, we left the animals in the barn with food that is most likely gone by now, there’s preserved foods in the bunker below that we’ve been harvesting. Hope to see you soon,” Taehyung finishes.

Your hands shake as you read the date below—you were a week late.

“I guess that’s that.” Jungkook sighs.

“Farm doesn’t look so bad, I think we can run it, don't you think Kook?” Taehyung grins, “We can raise the baby out here without a worry, can even take some horses down to the nearby town when we need to.” He leans down to kiss your neck, “What do you say pretty?..”

+

Everything hurts—your spine, your back, your feet—you can’t stand it. The baby is bigger and it weighs down on your hips horribly. Some days you pretend it isn’t there but other days are harder given the sheer size of your belly and that thing kicking you.

With an annoyed huff you rip the blankets off of your body and get up with a low pained moan. You support your back with one hand while carefully walking across the wooden floor towards the front door. The cold metal bites into your ankle unforgivingly but you’re used to it already. You thought things would be different here but you guess you were wrong.

“Fuck,” you hiss when the baby kicks you in the rib, “just you fuckin’ wait you little shit,” you mutter while standing on the front porch watching Taehyung and Jungkook tend to the farm around.

Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and turns to smile at you, “Something wrong sweetheart?” He calls out.

Taehyung shoots you a grin, “Baby already bothering you pretty?” You want to reply ‘been bothering me’ so bad but you hold your tongue. Taehyung’s eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing as he whistles lowly, “Well don’t you look pretty?” He smirks as he runs his tongue over his lip.

You find yourself staring at them—one day, you’ll find a way to leave even if you have to fight tooth and nail. You suppose the parasite inside of you can come if it’s not already out yet, or hell maybe you’ll leave it with them who knows.

But one thing is for sure: you were leaving one way or another.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful l @winkii @lifeless-firefly @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[halloween m.list]

[bbydoll18xx]

How Do I Get to Heaven?

'Without changing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven?'

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: angst, slurs, religious trauma, HAPPY ENDING i promise

A/N: hiii so this one is super angsty and sad. I've been going through a rough time, and this is my way of coping. I kinda touched on these subjects in 'She's Such a Good Girl' part 2, and this is similar. I was obsessed with 'Heaven' by Troye Sivan when I was like 15-16 and the lyrics hit a little too hard. If you're gay and were raised in a religious household, I suggest taking a listen.

~

“He’s a fuckin’ faggot!”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

“Those kinds of people are going straight to hell.”

Your face remained neutral. It had to. But you had years of practice, and while you were internally sobbing at the bigoted remarks, there was nothing you could do to stop it. So you stayed quiet, and you maintained your usual look of disinterest. 

Running up the stairs, you finally make it into the safehaven of your bedroom. You shut the door quietly, trying to avoid seeming as if anything is wrong or out of the ordinary. Nothing could possibly be wrong. You were the perfect child; straight As, never in trouble, and you always were eager to help out around the house. But you were harboring a dirty little secret that threatened to rip you from the grips of being the golden girl of your family. 

Sobs wracked your body as you slid onto the carpeted floor of your room. What had started off as an innocent dinner had turned into a nightmare. Slurs were thrown around casually, and unbeknownst to your family, you were the unidentified target. Your sexuality was the reason you had become an empty shell of a person, riddled with fear of accidentally outting yourself. And the anxieties you felt were bubbling up, threatening to ruin the perfect image of yourself that you had crafted for your loved ones. 

This wasn’t the first time. And it surely would not be the last. 

Your family had always claimed to love you. Your childhood was a happy one, but you feared the truth would break everyone. And even if they found out and still claimed to love you, you knew they would always see you differently. Gone would be the girl they knew, and their eager touts would be replaced with hushed whispers. You’d forever be known as “the gay one.” And you fucking resented that.

So here you sat on the floor, trying to quiet your sobs as you mourned the loss of the life you once knew and the people who would eventually turn their backs to you. 

Summer was ending, and soon you would be fleeing back to college, where your guard could be let down just enough to show the world a glimpse of who you really were and who you really wanted to love. 

There was just one girl who you wanted to love you back.

Paige Bueckers was your best friend. And she was so very gay. 

Since meeting her at the beginning of freshman year, she had pulled you out of a darkness that had resided in you since you had realized your feelings towards girls. It did not take long for you to fall madly, head-over-heels in love with her, but you had vowed to ignore it. 

Even if there was any hope of reciprocated feelings, you knew deep down that being in love with a girl would mean having to come out to your family. And you were just not ready for that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready for that. 

The thought terrified you. You knew you were willingly inhibiting a possibility of incredible happiness and love, but because it was at the risk of losing your loved ones, you were shutting it all out. 

‘Fuck. I really need therapy,’ you think miserably. 

That was the understatement of the century.

~

The new school year starts, and Uconn’s campus is ablaze with excited students and the possibilities of what is to come. You are finally starting to feel like yourself again, and the second your parents leave your apartment, you don a t-shirt plastered with Diana Taurasi’s face on it. 

You could finally get your gay card back.

A loud knock rings through the empty apartment, and before you could get to the door to answer it, Paige is peeking her head through it, a huge grin covering her face. 

She wastes no time barreling through the room, sweeping you up in a hug and spinning you around. Your feet leave the ground, causing your stomach to flip, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist for leverage. 

“Someone missed me,” you giggle, feeling breathless from being back in Paige’s tight embrace. You had been dreaming of this since you last saw her, back in July. 

“Course I did,” she chuckles, voice muffled against your hair. “You glad to be back?”

You groan. “Fuck, yeah I am. Lookin’ forward to not hearing some slurs for a bit,” you say, fist-pumping the air with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “And I’m especially looking forward to not having to listen to Fox fuckin’ News,” you add, pretending to gag.

Paige’s eyes rake over you, and she pouts, already knowing how your family could be. She had listened to your endless rants and your pathetic cries for the past three years. 

“I think you should just move in with me after this year ends. That way you don’t have to put up with that shit. Then we can be together after graduation,” she says earnestly. 

This was not the first time she had proposed this idea. And while you were internally jumping at the idea, the fear of how it would look to your family made you shy away. Paige wasn’t exactly the most straight-looking girl. Living with her would make things complicated. Your covert feelings had no place in a situation like that. 

You sigh. “I’ll think about it, P,” you promise, linking your pinky with hers, as you always did. 

~

Christmas break quickly rolls around, and Paige’s words are still playing in the back of your mind. Your feelings for her had grown, as if that was even possible, and having to leave her and the safety and warmth that came with her, was agonizing. 

Sitting against the hard back of the pew in your family’s Catholic church, you look around, thinking about how these people would be okay with you burning in hell forevermore. The familiar feeling of shame creeps back into your chest, the flames licking at your wounds. 

You wanted to run and hide. You wanted Paige. 

The Christmas activities persist, and amongst the holiday cheer and piles of gifts, uncomfortable conversations emerge, and you shrink back to your room, desperate for respite.

You felt so fucking abandoned. This was supposed to be a time to enjoy with your family, and instead you were hiding.

There was one person, though, you knew would not abandon you, and that was Paige. Her presence was enough to lessen the sting of the inevitable rejection of your family, and in that moment, it was enough. 

Pulling out your phone, you dial her number, longing to hear her voice, all the way from Montana. Christmas break could not end quickly enough. 

Paige’s smiling face is soon on your phone screen, but it falls as soon as she sees the tears falling down your cheeks and your wobbling bottom lip.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” She asks in a hushed whisper, voice full of anger and concern. 

“They hate me,” you cry. “They fucking hate me, and they don’t even know it yet.”

Paige sighs, trying to find the right words. While she had always had acceptance from those around her, she knew how difficult it was for you to be at home, and she desperately wished to take away your anguish. 

“I love you,” she stresses. “And I know that doesnt fix your family treating you like shit, but soon you’ll be back and everything won’t seem as shitty, I promise.” 

You nod, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

She loved you. And you knew that. But you wanted her to love you in the way you loved her. For now, you would take what you could get.

“Just a few more days,” she assures, and you feel the tiniest bit better.

Just a few more days. 

~

The start of the new year always engenders change, and you had promised yourself as the clock chimed to signify it was midnight that this would be the year you would hike up your big girl panties and figure out your shit with Paige. Your senior year had to slow down, and Paige’s proposal had been in the back of your mind since August. 

If you could get over your stupid crush on her, things would be all good and dandy, but your efforts to eradicate her place in your heart were futile. You had mused it over nearly a million times. Maybe you’d eventually get over her, and maybe she would have some bizarre habit that would inevitably give you the ick, ridding you of all romantic feelings toward her. 

You could only hope. 

You pump yourself up on the way over to Paige’s apartment, encouraging words forming on your lips, leaving a trail of fog from your warm breath against the cold air. 

You knock on her door, cheeks pink from the frigid temperatures of Connecticut in January, grateful that it hides your blush. Paige opens the door, eyes wide and hopeful. She always looked so damn alluring. 

Your words leave your mouth before your chary mind could overtake you. “I want to move in with you after school ends. I can’t go back to living like that.”

Paige’s features twist into a smile, and she pulls you in for a hug. “Gonna take such good care of you,” she whispers, and you believe her. Your arms wrap around her middle, anchoring you to the floor. 

“I should probably tell you, though,” she trails, her voice getting smaller as she takes a deep breath. 

You look up at her, confusedly. “Tell me what?”

“I love you. And not just like as a friend. So if you don’t want to live with me because of that, I get it,” she mumbles, eyes trained on the floor.

Your breath quickens at the realization. Paige loved you. And the thought of being a colossal disappointment to your family and potentially cast out did not seem to matter as much anymore. Because here was someone who loved every part of you and accepted the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

The look of shock swiftly morphs into one of unbridled euphoria, and without another thought, you pull Paige in for a kiss. It was filled with the pure longing and want of years of uncontrollable urges and repressed thoughts, and it nearly made all the shittiness worth it.

Pulling away, Paige links her pinky with yours again, just as she had back in August. It was an unspoken promise of love. And while you knew the journey would be inexorably difficult, Paige was worth it in the end. 

~

dang that was rough lol but thanks for reading as always:) I really hope this wasn't too triggering or anything for anyone. This has been such a nice outlet for my pain and anger, as I really don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I am here for everyone who can relate. My inbox is open if you guys ever want/need to talk

xoxo katy

[quaintii]

To be with you is all I want.

Warnings: breeding kink, slight choking, p with plot, fem!reader. Very passionate smut below! A slight spoiler of Atsv. torture, bodily harm, and blood!!! trigger warning !!!

enjoy 💖💖!!

You and Miguel have always been each other's partner in capturing anomaly's. Yet Miguel always suggested that you stay back, away from harm. But you continuously refused his request, you couldn't be inside your apartments, walking around in circles, wondering if he's fine or not. Worry runs through your bloodstream, every second, same goes for Miguel but worse. He worries every second that you'll die because of him.

In the middle of the night, you kept rustling back and forth in your bed, trying to grasp onto something. Someone. You immediately wake up and realize Miguel has gone off to a mission without even warning you about it. You are furious and quickly put on your suit and ask Lyla to find out where he is. You swing your way into a weird, black-noir universe. It looked bleak and darkly cynical. You figured that Miguel was using Spider-Man noir's backup. The atmosphere was so thick, you almost choked as you weren't adjusted to some multiverses. You caught a whiff of smoke and fire.

Your Spidey senses then took the lead and you finally found where Miguel was. You were incredibly furious with him but you couldn't think of that right now. Miguel was fighting Morlum. You've constantly heard slight whispers about him, especially from Miguel. What you can take from what you already know, Morlum has tried hijacking the multiverses and he is seeking to find the spider totems and take control of HQ. You swing your way in but your Spidey senses react too slow to a crashing wall heading your way.

Luckily, you crotch down to avoid it as best as you could. It leaves quite a big injury on you though. Your forearm now has a big open slit trailing down in blood, due to the concrete building. It was a deep cut. When Miguel felt someone else at the scene, he happened to lay eyes on you, he was worried you would severely bleed out. The blood wouldn't stop. His eyebrows furiously furrowed together and he clenched his jaw and tried his best to focus on Morlum. Spider-noir was throwing many walls towards Morlum, trying to crush him to pieces. Mush.

Miguel used his red lasso and webs to tie down Morlum's legs together, causing him to fall down. But Morlum uses his super strength to make the floor below him fall. Ensuring his legs to finally let go. The floor completely crumbles and produces a ton of dust. You wipe your dust off your suit and can seem to see anything. Your hearing is very sensitive so they start ringing as metal scratches at each other due to the collapse. You sense someone near you and before you have time to turn around and web them, they hold your back against their chest.

"Wow, you sure seem like a good piece of bait for me to use!" Morlum says enthusiastically. "You look pretty cute too..too bad I have to kill you." "NO! No, get your fucking hands off her, you fucking shitbag. She's not a part of this, let her go." Miguel yells.

Morlum holds a knife at your throat so suddenly, you shiver with terror, running through your blood. Your flight or fight turns on, and you don't look like you have an option. This man has such a strong hold onto your body, you can't even let alone, move a muscle. "You seem to be quite concerned about this woman, well that puts you to more use!" Morlum chuckles. Miguel's eyes filled with absolute trepidation. His breathing becomes rougher, he begins to hyperventilate. He can't imagine ever losing you, he can't lose another dear loved one again. He can't imagine the pain of two, let alone one. Morlum pushes the knife closer into your skin, carving a light line. Miguel's jaw clenched harder than a rock. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know where spider-noir went.

You were trembling with fear, tears swelled your eyes. You felt like this was all your fault, because you're always so stubborn and never bother to ever listen to Miguel. Your lips quiver as you bite down on your lips, hard enough to draw out blood. You felt like all of this was a dream, you hoped for it to be one. Miguel moved a few inches, trying to grab you out of his grasp. Morlum then threatened to stab you in the liver if Miguel moved any closer. Miguel's body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of knives. Morlum would make small cuts around your body, some deep, some shallow. Miguel yells "Mierda!" with a hurtful tone, he secretly advises Lyla to send backup immediately. He was too scared to breathe, fearing he could easily lose you in a second. You both stared at each other, a wholeheartedly look within fear hiding behind it. Miguel was trying to reassure you that everything was going to be ok. "Esta bien, mi vida. Te voy a sacar de esto, te lo juro, amor. Amas quedate quieta." Miguel's expression was drowning in helplessness.

"She seems like quite a trophy, Miguel! I can see you do have quite a taste." Morlum licks your cheek and nibbles a bit at your neck. Your huge discomfort grows more and you can't stop crying. Miguel was revolted by this, clenching his knuckles till his blood went cold, white. He felt like his jaw was about to lock and break. "Don't touch her! You keep your repugnant self away from her." Miguel yelled with an immense amount of hatred. Both of your guys' Spidey senses tingle as you feel other Spidermen approaching the situation. They all work collectively to pick up a razor sharp platform, sending it straight towards Morlum's head. Before Morlum could sense what was coming towards him, you immediately tuck your head and his grip on you releases. His head was sliced off clean. Blood guzzling out of his body. Before you could fall weakly on your knees, Miguel runs towards you, carrying you in his arms bridal style. He hugs you so tightly and you both tear up together.

"I thought I almost lost you, amor. I can't ever imagine losing you, ever. You're my everything." Miguel says as he places you grabs ahold of your cheeks, wiping away the blood and tears off of your cheeks. Giving you long, passionate kisses to you. Pecks on your forehead too. The amount of reassurance made you feel more at ease and comfortable.

Miguel continues to carry you in bridal style on the way home. He opens the window to your guys' bedroom and heads to the bathroom. He keeps showering you with a lot of love and reassurance. "Mi amor, te amo, por favor nunca vuelvas a hacer eso. Mi corazón ya mero se murió. Te amo demasiado, princesa. I couldn't bear seeing you being hurt, ever. I love you so, so much." He said while holding your body from behind. You were between his thighs, you laid your head back onto his chest, hearing his heart thump loudly. The bathtub was so warm, you could stay like this with him for hours. You loved Miguel. And he loved you too.

Both of your bodies emit more heat and the warmth calmly engulfs you both. You were both now clean, Miguel got out first and dried himself off. Despite seeing him nude multiple times before, you loved seeing him like that. He then wrapped a bath towel around his lower waist. Then grabs your hand and lets the water drain. He wrapped a towel over your body. Letting you stay warm. Then he dried yours and his hair with the hairdryer. You loved how much he put focus and care into you. You would return the same back too by giving him massages, going out on walks, seeing movies, etc.

Miguel then caught your eyes wandering around his body, he slightly smirked. "Take a picture to look at me for longer, mi vida." Miguel said while sneering. "Porque? Cuando te tengo enfrente de mi, cariño. I can't ever take my eyes off of you, you're so handsome." You say while heading towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and rustling his hair. He then pushed his lips against yours. Unfolding a deep, passionate, needy kiss. Your tongue wrapped with his. The smell of skin filled your nose, your fluttering heart thumped more and more. The soft taste of his plump lips on yours, his warm embrace against your chest as both towels fall on the floor. His gentle hands reaching your body, aching to be touched. His hands roams to your neck and hair, proceeding down to your hips. You then jump onto his chest and he grabs a hold of your hips. You both try not bumping into the door and open it while still kissing.

Your mind was starting to turn dizzy and foggy. He gently placed your chest on top of the bed. Giving you pecks and small bites along your spine, making you shiver. He softly turned you around. Both of your guys' lips magnetized. Not letting go, not even for a gasp of air. Miguel positions his back against the bed frame, pulling you on his hip, holding you in a lotus position. Your chest touching him enlightens fire down your core. Your nipples perked from the amount of arousal growing down your core. "You're the most beautiful, sosphicasted, intelligent, erotic, loving woman I've ever known and loved my whole life." Miguel said with a soft tone. Whispering it in your ear. Nibbling it softly, pulling out small moans out of your mouth. "Susurro estas palabras solo para que el mundo las escuche. Tu eres mi mundo entero, mi amor." Miguel said while groaning against your neck. Your head slightly goes back, you bite your lower lips. "Miguel, please more.. I want you to touch me more." You say with a hint of desperation and begging. "No muñeca.. we have the whole night to ourselves right now. Let me cherish and worship your body.

Miguel slides his fingers across your cunt, pulling it to your face. You moan to the touch of his rough fingers on your slick wetness."Look how soaking wet you're for me, cariño. Let me put that pussy to use, si? ¿Quieres eso, amor?" Miguel said softly with admirable eyes boring into yours. You nod slowly, groaning as he picks you by the hips. He then placed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your cunt twitched at the heat emitting from his breath against your neck. He then slammed you onto his cock, reaching your cervix.

You feel your body's nerves crashing down, the pleasure makes you feel so full. You moan erotically against Miguel's chest, cursing under your breath. "F-fuck Miguel, I feel you in my stomach.. you're so big. It's t-too much f'me.." you say between pants. "I love having you like this muñeca. I can't ever lose you, understand?" Miguel said softly. "God your body does unimaginable things to me, cariño." He cups his rough, big hands around your ass, slapping it as he begins bringing your hips and down his cock. Miguel stared at your beautiful face, saying incoherent words and the seductive expressions you would make. Your mouth being agape, gasping for air as Miguel would push every oxygen in you out of your body with a simple thrust of his cock. Your cunt spasms as Miguel grabs your throat softly. "Look at me, amor. I wanna see your pretty face getting fucked." Miguel said with a lustful tone. His eyes never let go of yours. You tried your best to not roll your eyes to the back of your head and kept eye contact with him.

More fire enlightened deep inside your core when Miguel's cock twitched when you reached for his neck, nibbling on it, leaving hickies. Miguel returning the same for you. Both of you are groaning and moaning, loudly. Not having a care of who could hear the both of you. The pleasure was towering over your body and your cunt uncontrollably spasms when Miguel said, "Cum around my cock for me, amorcito. Do it. Make me cum. I want my babies inside of your gorgeous body. M-mierda.." As you ride your orgasm out, Miguel's pace fastens, leaving you with tremendous overstimulation that leaves your throat choking out screams and wails for him to stop. A few more thrusts and he finally pumps his seed inside of you. Small droplets of tears leave your eyes, Miguel wipes them away by kissing them. "You did good f'me, baby. I love you so much." "I love you so much more than you could even imagine, Miguel. Te amo cariño."

Miguel finally pulls out of you, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. Miguel then grabs a couple of small towels to clean you up. He then gave you your loungewear as he clothed himself with his boxers and shorts. You tie up your hair into a messy bun, then turn to lay beside Miguel. His arm hugging around your body, pulling you close. His chest against your face, both of you easily fall asleep.

:33 hai guys this took me Abt 1 hr n a half to do! This was really fun to do, please send more requests! Love u all ! <3

[lazywriters-blog]

Aventurine with an innocent darling who's very vulnerable to his schemes and doesn't understand his motives for gifting her a ring, necklaces, expensive perfumes, and dresses that match his preference, finds it hard to believe that he's doing all this for her without a reason.

Doesn't say anything whenever he puts his hand around her waist and drags her along with him anywhere and everywhere he goes, when he leans close she doesn't move back, in a way Aventurine would find her daring and bold, which he would like. A lot.

Seeing as she never declines or rejects him, his advances, his gifts, his messages, their intimacy, and his touch, he considers her his best friend.

Which in time would soften his heart, they would play games that were to her liking (because he would always have her lose to his bets and wagers) but if you look at it from a stranger's point of view, she's playing a dangerous game and she's falling right into his trap, wearing his gifts, following him around, it wouldn't end well.

So of course, someone would eventually warn her and tell her to stay as far away as possible from the IPC executive, which to Aventurine's dismay, works. She's playing distance with him and doesn't laugh or smile as much as she would have before everything she was told messed up her mind, runs home after he keeps insisting that she stay the night and they could have a sleepover, however, they keep drifting apart every time he gets too overbearing.

Everything she does hurts his feelings and drags him further down.

Losing someone who didn't have ulterior motives, who didn't want him to be their friend for his money, influence, his looks, his luck, makes him all the more clingy and desperate.

He wants her back, so the first thing he does is make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut and never thinks about influencing his best friend. Which works, at least for a while.

He's attached to her, he can't consider losing her after everything they've been through, so even if she doesn't realize it, the damage has been done, and she can never look at Aventurine the same. Surely, he will learn about it soon enough.

He could try manipulating her, but what's the use? They've lost their genuine friendship, and it drives him crazy, makes him bitter, and makes him want to do things to whoever dragged his darling away.

He might resort to desperate measures.

So now, he's doing everything he used to do but ten times worse, giving her endless rows of gifts, and spending an unimaginable amount of money on her in hopes they can rekindle their friendship.

But something is still holding her back.

"You should stay the night," he said in his usual light tone, taking a glance to gauge her response. She smiled nervously, and he knew she would decline.

"No, I gotta get home but next time surely," promising him her next time had gotten old, even though she had only stated it twice. He looked away for a moment, trying his best not to squeeze her shoulder.

"You know, you've promised me that twice already and it still hasn't come true."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to bother you." she looked down.

"I wonder if it is because of those people. You can easily be manipulated, I've already told you that so many times, so why can't you try to form your own opinion?" he didn't say it in a belittling manner, nor was his tone heavy in malice but anyone could tell something was wrong.

Aventurine has never been passive-aggressive, at least not with her.

"That's... Kinda mean." she tried to pull his arm, trying to shrug off his touch but that didn't stop nor discourage him because he just laughed and pulled her back to him.

"I was just kidding! Surely you would have known that by now sweetheart." he also never called her 'sweetheart'.

She looked at him, his wide grin and beautiful eyes peering down at her had always consoled her but now it was telling her to run away.

But with how tight he was holding onto her, she feared it would be impossible to get away now.

[leaawrites]

The Eras Tour

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: in which your boyfriend surprises you with tickets for The Eras Tour.

I kinda wrote this as like a hug of some sort because I didn’t get tickets and am now devastated. (Yes, I did cry about it) (more than once if I'm honest)

Warnings: fluff, a bit of making out, kissing, English isn't my first language

Masterlist

"I hate it here so I will go to / secret gardens in my mind / people need a key to get to / the only one is mine."

Lando heard low humming and whispered words leaving her mouth as he closed the door to her apartment. The scent of pesto and spaghetti lingering in the air, together with the flowers of her shampoo. Walking into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Towel wrapped around her hair to dry, pjama pants covering her legs and a bra. A coffee, half empty, was still sitting beside her. She took a sip now and then.

Turning around she grinned at him, stop singing to not embarrass herself.

"Hello there," she said, quoting Obi-Wan.

Lando laughed at her low voice and miserable impression of the Jedi.

"Hi you," he said back, still staring.

A sense of happiness floated around him and she could feel it. The good mood was drowning every other emotion that once was in the room.

"What's got you so happy?" she asked, beginning to move to the new beat.

New Romantics.

She knew how much the almost of every race weightened him down. She could feel it in the way he held her, his sorrow drowning her as well. The possibility of a new win made the second place feel so much worse. He could do it now, he knew that. He just wasn't able to do it. Maybe it would take him another 5 years, he once told her as they laid in bed together. Then I'll wait 5 more years, she answered.

"Pack your bags," Lando answered simply.

"Where are you taking me, Mr Norris?" she asked, finishing up the spaghetti and walking over to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he kissed her.

"Milan," he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with confusion. What could they possibly want in Milan at this moment?

"I know that you were sad when you didn't get Tickets to go to The Eras Tour, so I may have called a few people," he elaborated. Her eyes widen and her mouth stood open in shock.

"You did what?" She asked just to make him repeat his words. Her heart was beating and her eyes were flooded with tears all of a sudden.

"We're going to see T-swizzle, baby," he said, laughing at her reaction.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed, throwing herself on him. Hugging him tightly and kissing his neck, a thousand thank yous falling from her lips on his skin, sinking in and finding their way to his heart where they would be kept in memory.

"Are you sure about this?" Only now did the important part come to her mind. Pulling away she looked at him. She knew how much Lando tried avoiding any public outings, in fear of the fans reaction. He didn’t care about what they said, but he knew she would. And breaking her heart through a third hand coming into their relationship wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to make her happy.

"I'm sure," he said, kissing her. "I was so in fear of other people's perception that I forgot that love is the most normal thing in the world. If I want to love you fully I will. Seeing you happy is what love is to me."

"So we're really going?" She asked again.

"We're really going," he confirmed again.

The girl began jumping up and down, squealing and screaming and laughing.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she repeated over and over again, taking his hands in hers and holding them against her chest to make him feel her heart.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her. His hands losing hers and grabbing her breasts. His lips traveling down her neck and collarbone. Squeezing her flesh and letting her know that he meant it.

[authorhjk1]

Well you probably already have a list so maybe next time

Beautiful, easy access, elegant. Perfectly accurate descriptions to both the dresses and the idols who are wearing them

Just long enough that it wouldn't catch suspicion but short enough for you to...🤭

The dazzling jewellery no longer deserves your attention when they spread their legs. Proving they are always ready Did they also sponsore those toys?. A packet of lube is even meticulously hidden inside the inner layer should you really need the assistance.

Those high heels angling their butts just the right amount. Allowing deeper penetration even when standing.

The clacking noise of the heels hitting the the floor, losing balance when their legs couldn't support them (until you yank her upright against you body) triggers a positive feedback loop that taps into your most carnal desire, urging you to thrust deeper and harder.

Well probably don't reply to this ask since this ask is way too long 😂 If you ever want to do something with this I recommend creating a new post instead

Cream

(An Yujin X Jang Wonyoung X Male Reader)

You hear someone walk towards you, the clicking of their heels echoing through the hallway.

You didn't expect her to come. But then again, she doesn't really have a choice. An Yujin rounds the corner, her angry glare is directed at you.

"Swear to me that this is a one time thing."

You shrug your shoulders.

"Depends on how well you do."

"I..."

Yujin seems to slowly accept her fate.

"Fine."

"Let me see it."

You can't really hide your curiosity. You told her to wear it, but she didn't send you a picture as proof, like she was supposed to.

With an annoyed sigh, Yujin turns her back to you. You marvel at how beautiful she looks in that dress.

A heavy breath and Yujin pulls her dress to the side. You're greeted with the sight of her butt. Her round cheeks hide something between them. When Yujin pulls them apart, you can see the metal buttplug you told her to buy and wear.

"I-I don't want to do this."

Yujin turns back around to face you, letting her dress fall in place again.

"You don't have a choice Yujin."

You remind her of the pictures.

"Is there really no other way? I-I could give you something. Anything you want. Money, or..."

There is not enough money in the world to match the chance of experiencing the tightness of Yujin's ass. But there is something else...

"Or maybe house, or a car, or..."

"Your members."

"Huh? W-What?"

Yujin looks at you with wide open eyes.

"Convince Wonyoung to suck me off. Or I fuck your ass."

You watch her inner conflict. This is an impossible choice for her. Yujin doesn't want throw her member, her friend, under the bus. But she also doesn't want to lose her anal virgnity to some stranger.

A couple of minutes later, you hear someone walking towards you again.

"Yujin unnie, you sounded worried, are you okay? Who is that?"

Yujin takes a deep breath and you can tell she is almost about to cry.

"Wonyoung, can you do something for me? He... He has pictures of me. Bad pictures. If you... If you just..."

Yujin takes a shakey breath.

"What pictures?"

"Doesn't matter."

Yujjn's cheeks turn red with shame.

"He said he is going to publish them, if you don't..."

She looks at your crotch. Wonyoung, very slowly, follows her stare.

"N-No, I couldn't! I don't even know him!"

"P-Please, Wonyoung. D-Do it for me?"

Yujin sounds as desperate as she looks.

"It's... It's a blowjob."

She swallows hard, before looking at your face.

"Right? Nothing more."

You nod and Wonyoung looks at both of you.

"Is this a prank? I don't..."

You are aware that Yujin left out the fact that there is an alternative. But you don't mind which of the two you get to use.

"Fine. I will do it, then."

Once Wonyoung agrees, you motion her towards you. You can't believe you're actually going to be inside this pretty little mouth of hers.

You push her to her knees and rid yourself off your pants. Wonyoung's eyes grow wide in fear as she sees your cock. It's bigger than she expected. She never actually...

She takes a deep breath and parts her lips. As they touch your cock, Yujin turns away.

"Oh my god."

You hear her sob, as the younger girl wraps her fingers around your base.

"Good girl."

You praise Wonyoung, putting your hand on the tie in her hair. She looks up at you, the disgust on her face is barely visible with your cock in her mouth.

"If you don't act like you like it..."

You let the thread hang in the air as you take out your phone.

Thinking that you're about to release her leader's pictures, Wonyoung starts to get into it. Or at least she pretends to.

Her lips quickly glide along your length. She moves her head back and forth. Wonyoung can only reach the halfway mark, before she chokes. You push her a little further everytime.

You can't believe that this beautiful woman is giving you head. That beautiful face. Those beautiful lips.

The shutter of your phone camera makes both of them look at you.

"What..."

Wonyoung lets your cock fall out of her mouth as she looks up at you with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Yujjn's angry and surprised tone makes you chuckle.

"What? This is how we ended up here in the first place, didn't we?"

With your hand still on the back of her head, you pull Wonyoung back onto your cock. You hear her choke as you talk again.

"If you don't want me to release the picture of your bandmate, sucking my cock, I suggest you get that pretty ass over here."

Yujin's eyes widen in realization.

"Y-You planned this!"

It took a while, but now you've pulled the buttplug out of Yujin's asshole. Wonyoung is still in the room, unable to look away as you press Yujin against the wall.

"Time to make you mine."

Yujin shudders at your words.

You slowly push into her. The lube, you told her to bring, helps, but it's not exactly easy. But eventually, you part Yujin's walls enough, so you can fuck her properly. Not very fast and hard, but still...

A feeling of a lifetime.

Yujin sighs and groans in pain, whenever you push into her. And an embarrassed moan escapes her lips, whenever you pull out. You feel like you're in heaven. Her ring of muscles clings onto you while you slide in and out of her. Her sparkling heels put her ass in the right height and angle for you, to drive yourself as deep as possible into her hole.

Eventually though, Yujin's asshole is too tight for you to fight off your incoming orgasm.

"Come here, Wonyoung."

You make both girls kneel in front of you as you stroke yourself. Both of their faces are enough to make you climax within seconds. Your cum hits their faces, staining their skin and ruining their makeup. A string of your cum hit Yujin's eye, gluing it shut, while half of Wonyoung's share lands on her cute nose.

The sound of your phone's camera makes both of them shiver in fear.

"What's the password for Ive's official Instagram account?"