#how many years has this been waiting to be answered

[astonmartinii]

royally screwed | jack doohan social media au

pairing: jack doohan x fem royal!reader

head up king, your tiara is falling

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by jackdoohan, danielricciardo and 1,204,899 others

tagged: pierregasly & francocolapinto

f1: that’s something both franco and the alpine mechanics won’t want to see back… the argentine takes both himself and his teammate out of the race!

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user1: i’m so sorry all the karma got directed to you franco i was aiming for flávio i swear

user2: idk what kind of voodoo protection that old man has but even my etsy witch can’t defeat it

user3: what if we ALL paid etsy witches?

user4: not gonna lie guys there’s an easier way to deal with this… it’s called a dark alley and a charging car

user5: oh?!

user6: honestly? valid reaction at this point

alpinef1team: we’ll get them next time!

user7: but who is getting YOU?

user8: sorry social media admin but i’m sad so i fear you’re going to have to hear about it

user9: how DARE you make jack do all of those stupid ass tiktoks and let me get attached :(

user10: making him do all of this social media stuff and didn’t keep him around long enough to finish his soft launch

user11: do NOT remind me

user12: it was so carefully planned and everything

user13: really? that’s what you’re angry about?

user12: let me live? i’m in mourning and thinking about his actual career will make me crash out heavier than the alpines today

user14: okay you have a point

user15: rip alpine you would’ve love jack doohan … oh wait!

user15: @alpinef1team CHOKE

this comment was liked by oscarpiastri, daniel ricciardo, jackdoohan and yourusername

user15: oh WOW my comment collected some big likes

user15: oscar? yeah makes sense. daniel? cool aussie bromance. jack? obviously. y/n windsor? WHY THE FUCK IS THE PRINCESS OF ENGLAND IN MY LIKES?

user16: she has an account?

user17: it’s all her charity stuff mostly but she has been caught like sports stuff before lol

user18: y/n idk what kind of powers come with being a princess but i know you’re next in line so PLEASE GET JACK HIS SEAT BACK

user19: actually any seat will do we’re not fussy

user20: alpine… look at what you’ve made us

yourusername and jackdoohan

liked by oscarpiastri, kimiantonelli and 13,983,029 others

yourusername and jackdoohan: surprise! jack and i have finally decided to make our relationship public as we continue to prepare to settle down.

we first met many years ago when i was on duty at the british grand prix and met a very charming boy who was racing in formula 3 at the time, and i have been smitten ever since.

i have supported jack in his racing and wanted to make that support public in these particularly tough times.

while i’m sure this is a big shock for you all, we ask that you continue to respect our privacy.

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user21: i’m sorry

user21: WHAT THE FUCK

user21: i can’t tell if this is helping my alpine induced misery or not

isackhadjar: HUH?

jackdoohan: you knew i was in a relationship ?

isackhadjar: i’m sorry but how was i meant to deduce that “my girlfriend y/n” actually means the princess of england

jackdoohan: do i not seem princely to you?

isackhadjar: do not try and set me up

isackhadjar: unless there’s some eligible royals who can get down with a freaky lil guy like me

yourusername: probably not best to frame it that way?

isackhadjar: yes, your grace! (am i doing it right i’ve only ever watched game of thrones)

yourusername: you can just call me y/n, isack

isackhadjar: OMG COOL

user22: so i thought this would excite me more but now im just thinking we could’ve gotten these type of reactions on film and in the paddock

user23: how do we know they’re not being filmed

user24: i’m in their walls

oscarpiastri: what?

jackdoohan: can i have the aussie seat after you win the championship pretty please ?

oscarpiastri: i am not answering that until you tell me how the fuck you ended up in the british royal family?

jackdoohan: can you not read anymore? y/n explained it pretty well in the caption…

oscarpiastri: i’m gonna need some more detail

yourusername: you’re more than welcome to come for some tea at ours oscar

oscarpiastri: AT THE PALACE?

oscarpiastri: i mean - yeah that sounds good to me!

kimiantonelli: ME TOO IM COMING TOO

olliebearman: i can’t believe you’ve not invited the only british rookie jack :(

jackdoohan: idk if you guys missed it but im not a rookie any more, im not even a driver

yourusername: enough of that, you can all come for tea and we’ll do some visits to the london hospitals while we’re at it

gabrielbortoleto: yay count me in!!!

isackhadjar: today just keeps getting better and better

user25: dropping this news to distract from the fact that he got dropped for the far superior driver

user26: i wouldn’t be surprised if his woman drops him for franco as well

yourusername: first of all, i am no one’s “woman” get that right and second of all, jack is the kindest, funniest and most gentle man in the world and you’d have to move heaven and earth to take him away from me

jackdoohan: i love you <3

user27: oop - she told yall

kimiantonelli

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,023,488 others

tagged: olliebearman, jackdoohan & yourusername

kimiantonelli: yo this royal stuff is kinda crazy …

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user28: fomo has never fomo-ed this bad before

user29: the fact that she knew this would get a load of publicity so she used it for good >>

user30: and this is why she’s my fave royal !!!

yourusername: i hope you had a wonderful time kimi! thank you so much for joining us.

kimiantonelli: are you kidding? that was insane !!!!

kimiantonelli: and also it was very fun to meet all of the children

kimiantonelli: but can we please take the aston martin for a spin again ???

jackdoohan: kimi ???

kimiantonelli: like y/n didn’t tell us that you take her for drives in it all the time …

jackdoohan: y/n ???

yourusername: what? you’re an amazing driver and i love watching you do what you love!

user31: i wish alpine weren’t such FUCKHEADS i want this dynamic at silverstone so bad

user32: if they didn’t fumble this bad we could’ve gotten a monaco situ where she could’ve presented the trophies every year

user33: you could’ve shot me and it would’ve hurt less

maxverstappen1: hmm

charles_leclerc: hmmm

alexalbon: hmmmm

georgerussell63: hmmmmm

landonorris: hmmmmmm

carlossainz55: hmmmmmmm

lewishamilton: hmmmmmmmm

kimiantonelli: you guys good? sorry you weren’t cool enough to be invited

maxverstappen1: i’m literally an officer in the order of orange-nassau???

lewishamilton: IM A SIR?

lewishamilton: I WAS LITERALLY KNIGHTED BY Y/N?

yourusername: sorry gentlemen, you should’ve spoken up sooner. however, jack and i are hosting a charity ball between canada and the red bull ring?

alexalbon: IM SO THERE

alexalbon: i’m so there, security are telling me the ball is weeks away but im so there

charles_leclerc: YIPEE

georgerussell63: omg my first royal event… gasp!

user34: obsessed with how the grid get so excited about all of this

user35: max … asking to go to an event ???

user36: and to think we could’ve had it every weekend :(

yourusername

liked by jackdoohan, isackhadjar and 12,309, 788 others

tagged: jackdoohan

yourusername: it was such an honour to host this dinner to raise funds for the youth art network! so many children in our country are being pushed out of artistic fields because of the lack of funding, hopefully with these funds and the continued support from jack and i, we can help keep britain creative!

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user37: they’re actually so precious to me

user38: this is such a great initiative i’m so glad they do things like this with their money and time!

user39: i’ve honestly never seen jack happier

user40: good for him!!! making the best out of a bad situation - this probably also means he won’t be going back to f1, at least not with alpine

francocolapinto: jack might not be in this garage anymore, but i'd still love a visit from you

user41: ummmmmmmm… what?

user42: this is really not cool

pierregasly: let’s delete this while you can

francocolapinto: shooters shoot, isn’t that what you said?

pierregasly: yeah to a girl at the bar maybe, not a royal who is very clearly in a relationship

francocolapinto: i took his seat, i can take his girl too

yourusername: excuse me?

francocolapinto: you’re saying you can’t give me one chance to convince you of my worth?

yourusername: at this point you have one chance to convince me why i shouldn’t find the one legal loophole that means jack can kick your ass

francocolapinto: woah?

yourusername: there’s no charming your way out of this one, franco. jack has done nothing to you and yet you allow your fans to send him countless death threats and flirt with his fiancée openly. find some respect for yourself franco, you won’t be this young forever.

user43: HOLY SMOKES

user44: i can’t even get caught up on the way she snapped here because of the FIANCÉE mention

user45: no this bro must’ve been testing her patience because never in my life have i seen her snap at someone like that

user46: so valid from her though

user47: honestly i’d throw hands for less

jackdoohan: always an honour to just be at your side and help you achieve the wonderful things you do

yourusername: even when i accidentally reveal our engagement while having an argument on the internet

jackdoohan: especially then

yourusername: i love you!

yourusername: and i know doohan was a pretty cool name for merch before, but i feel like windsor could look pretty good on a car or a cap

jackdoohan: if it means i have a little piece of you wherever i go, sign me up

user48: aside from confirmation that he’s going to take her name - ON A CAR? doohan return confirmed ?

user49: they need to stop playing with my feelings so many times on one post

user50: so this might be a royal fuck up from franco right?

f1

liked by jackdoohan, yourusername and 2,309,472 others

f1: BREAKING: flávio briatore has been forced to resign from his position as team principal at alpine! princess y/n windsor and jack doohan attended the friday of the british grand prix where briatore was served by windsor’s legal team, who had found that the contracts given out by briatore were not legally binding. briatore left the paddock on the friday evening long before windsor and doohan, who were seen with a number of team personnel from across the paddock. Colapinto will complete this race weekend but his future with the team is now up in the air.

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user51: one moment of peace and quiet in f1, that's all i ask

user52: i can't even go to sleep without waking up to five breaking news graphics

user53: honestly? if they were all like this i wouldn't mind it...

user54: jack and y/n being in the likes is so funny to me

user55: babe they're not just in the likes, they were there in person to deliver the news

user56: i knew flavio should've been worried when the relationship was revealed... those royals WILL have the best lawyers

user57: i mean i only just found out that flavio is/was jack's manager?

user58: HE WAS JACK'S MANAGER?

user59: i know their lawyer was just as bamboozled as us

pierregasly: CAN I PLEASE GET A DRINK? PLEASE?

user60: bro it's only friday ...

pierregasly: I HAVE NO TP? I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH MY TEAM?

jackdoohan: our bad!

pierregasly: no yall did what you had to do but i was hoping i could maybe get a bottle of something top shelf for my troubles

kikacgomes: and maybe a horse ride at the palace ???

charles_leclerc: can leo meet the corgis???

lewishamilton: u.k. met gala when?

jackdoohan: oh so i get engaged to a princess and suddenly you all want to be my friend?

pierregasly: WOAH ignore all of them, we're the victims here!

yourusername: at this point, if we can turn it into a charity event, we can do whatever you want

maxverstappen1: this is a dangerous precedent

maxverstappen1: and i'm willing to find the limits

user61: i'm having visions of the f1 grid at a royal wedding...

user62: does max know he can't wear skinny jeans to a royal wedding?

maxverstappen1: please refer to my last comment

user63: does he know that the secret service can shoot him on sight if he does wear them?

maxverstappen1: HUH?

jackdoohan: that's true... they told me themselves!

yourusername: jack...

jackdoohan: i am protecting the dress code of our future wedding!

kimiantonelli: i guess you could say he's royally screwed

kimiantonelli: ????

kimiantonelli: i thought it was funny :(

kimiantonelli: no worries guys y/n told me irl she thought it was funny

kimiantonelli: WAIT

kimiantonelli: I SAID NOTHING

jackdoohan

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 4,920,482 others

tagged: yourusername

jackdoohan: jack WINdsor at your duty! i've been given a second chance at my dream, but i wouldn't be here without my family and my amazing fiancee. i promise i'll make you proud.

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user64: i WILL not cry about this

user65: i tried not to but BABY JACK

user66: i think people forget how young he still is :(

yourusername: i'll forever be proud of you, my love. no matter what

yourusername: however, i think the palace would look extra dashing with some trophies ...

jackdoohan: for you? anything

yourusername: oh my charming boy, i'm not sure i want to share you with f1 again so soon

jackdoohan: but you will come with me won't you?

yourusername: to be without you is a thorn in my side

user67: FUCK ME THEY'RE SO CUTE

user68: i love them so much

user69: i don't think yall are ready for the level of paddock fashion we're going to get with a literal princess...

user70: wait - what happens when as inherits the throne?

user71: i think jack would have to retire

user72: WHAT?

user73: that's just how the royal life is

jackdoohan: and i'll do it

yourusername: i appreciate the concern everyone, but my mother is in good health and has many, many years left as queen

user74: jack doohan/windsor first kilf (king i would like to fuck)

user74: i've been blocked by y/n ????

user74: AND JACK?

oscarpiastri: you got MARRIED WITHOUT US ???

jackdoohan: once again, can you not read a caption?

oscarpiastri: oh lol.

oscarpiastri: i just saw windsor and started yelling at my phone

user75: obsessed with how jack having a f1 seat is actually great for the british government

user76: diplomatic relations are on the UP because government officials come to races to meet and talk with y/n

user77: and the fact that they both still find time to do charity work in each country they go to.. they’re so precious to me

yourusername: i never thought i'd be planning a royal wedding around the formula one calendar, but there's a first for everything

jackdoohan: but a summer wedding is so cute?

yourusername: i know, my love

yourusername: but flower picking via face time has been a struggle

jackdoohan: i know whatever you choose will be perfect

jackdoohan: just like you

yourusername: i love you, sweet talker

jackdoohan: i love you too sweetheart

fin.

note: as you can tell I AM NOT HAPPY. i like franco but justice for my queen jack. updates for you all, other side of the moon chap 7 is about 80% done so that's exciting !!!! hope you are all good despite the many many horrors lol xx

[thefrogman]

Been following for... well like over a decade. Love your wit and your masterly skills with photgraphy and how you explain it in ways we can understand.

But I wanted you to know that you being so open about your life with ME/CFS meant that when I got sick, I was able to recognize what was happening to me. Your blogging saved me from what could have been years and years of doctors and more testing with no answers. I was able to know what to talk with doctors about, some of what to expect, and that I wasn't alone. And I've never said thank you for that, so I wanted you to know- Thank you.

I remember you consistently being a long time supportive follower. Your name always sticks out when you like or reply or reblog. Like waving at an old friend you notice on the other side of the supermarket.

I've always tried to find the balance of openly talking about my chronic fatigue without making it my entire deal. I think that is a big mistake a lot of chronic illness sufferers can fall into. I had to figure out how to live a life despite my condition. And I hope if my story communicated anything to fellow spoonies, it was to do everything possible to find some quality of life. It may not meet your ambitions or what you imagined for yourself, but it's an important part of living with a chronic condition.

It is very fulfilling to hear that my story helped you. That was always my goal. When I started this health journey, there was so little information. They thought I had depression for years and even electroshocked my brain. I hoped I could spare others from a similar experience. And while I'm saddened so many others now have post viral fatigue, it does seem this influx of people has put a new spotlight on these conditions. Perhaps this will lead to new treatments.

I always live my life with the assumption I will not get better. Waiting for the next miracle cure got old very quick. My current strategy is to isolate aspects of my health that I can do something about. I'm going to fix my testosterone. I'm going to fix my diabetes. And I'm going to lose weight so it takes less energy to move around.

I had to make some huge health sacrifices to help my parents in their final years. I feel like I owe it to them to undo that damage and get back to living a life. I hope to also share that journey as I go.

It makes me sad to hear you have struggled with similar things. But stories like yours feel very validating. It can be hard opening up about these things publicly. Especially when faced with nonbelievers who think I want to lie around and watch movies all day. That idea sounds nice until it is your only choice and you cannot make another without terrible consequences.

I'm sorry it took so long to respond, but I appreciate you. I appreciate your long-time loyalty as a follower. And I appreciate all of the support and kindness you've shown me over the years.

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Two Can Keep a Secret... If One of Them is Dead

Papa Emeritus III (Terzo) x Omega x Reader

Hiiiiiiiiii bitches ❤️ it's been a long time. I've been sitting on a few wips for a while. Obviously I took a break from writing; I'm not sure how frequently I'll continue writing, but I'm happy I finished this one!

This is the follow up to Dreams Come True and connected to My Dirty Little Secret 💋 enjoy!

Word count: 4.1k

CW: PURE SMUT, threesome, dom/sub a little bit, size difference, knotting, p in v, lingerie, MDNI

You're still the only person he trusted to see him like this. Even after nearly a year of meeting in private, wearing your lingerie together, Terzo only wanted this with you. He liked to laze about for hours, enjoying his new outfits, not wanting to waste them by getting right down to business, so you'd tease each other, play with yourselves, kiss and makeout for quite a while leading up to the main event.

"You look beautiful in this. What's that you say in Italian--𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢?" The Italian always make him blush so prettily, a warm pink spreading across his chest and cheeks. Slowly dragging your fingernails over the bow on his hip, he inhales sharply, arching up into the sensation.

"You already have me so hard," Terzo groans, "I feel, ah, horny drunk!" He giggles. It's a giggle he would never want anyone but you to hear; it would be unflattering for a Papa to be heard giggling like that. He always has such a cold exterior, unhappy even. There are so few people who know how warm he really can be, and what he truly likes.

Sure, you've seen him in many gorgeous lingerie sets, but you also know he likes to read, further he likes to read aloud to you until you fall asleep; he knows a lot about vintage wines; you know his grandmother taught him to cook at a young age back in Italy; he can braid hair; and he likes to sing along to old vinyl records.

In all the time you'd known him, you'd only known him to get close to one other person, or ghoul, rather--

*𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬*

"Who is that?" Terzo whispers, softly looking up at you.

"I don't know, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢, it's your room," you chuckle, stroking his cheek softly, "Why don't you answer it?"

"B-but..." He looks down at himself, "They can't see me like this."

"Then put on your robe," you kiss his nose to encourage him, well aware of the panic in his eyes, as well as the way his heartbeat speeds up in his chest. "Surely whoever it is would only come at this late hour if it were important..." you kiss next to his ear before breathing softly, "or unless they feel welcome in your chambers." After that, you lean up, removing your body from his and retrieving his robe from the closet door. As he sits up on the bed, you hand it to him before informing him, "I'll go to the restroom, give you some privacy." You give him a quick kiss, and exit to the next room.

Hesitantly, he pulls on the silk charmeuse cover-up before shuffling over to the heavy mahogany door. Quietly, he turns the antique glass doorknob to poke his head out. His defenses are lowered as he sees his favorite ghoul, "Omega," he sighs in relief, "I should've expected it was you. Ever the gentleman for only knocking once, despite me making you wait."

"Papa," is all the tall demon says. And 'tall' really is an understatement; it was one thing to see him on stage, but to see him in person and have to crane your neck back to even meet his eyes, it really speaks to the way he towers over everybody. Slowly, he cups Terzo's black locks in his large clawed hand, leaning down to kiss him.

The antipope's fingers smooth over the ghoul's chest, feeling the inhumanly slow thump beneath his ribs. Few people knew that the frontman of Ghost was thinking of his most beloved ghoul when he wrote the lines of Cirice... "𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵."

"Omegahhh..." He breathes as his ghoul moves to kiss his neck, a weak spot for the leader of the church. With a little nudge, Terzo is pushing Omega off of him. "Omega," he inhales raggedly, "I- I wasn't expecting you. I'm, uh, I'm not--"

"What's this?" the demon interrupts his Papa, gesturing to the thin black strap peeking out from beneath his robe where the ghoul's mouth had just been.

The shorter man immediately pulls his robes back into place, crossing his arms. "It is nothing, amante."

The ghoul chuckles darkly, "C'mon," he takes Terzo's hips in his hands to walk him back into the bedroom, clicking the door shut and locking it. "You can't hide from me, Papa," he says lowly before raking his fingers through those short raven locks once again to steal another kiss.

After a long evening of teasing with you, combined with a heated kiss from his Omega, Terzo can hardly help the lustblown look in his eyes.

Speak of the devil, you're sitting on the bed silently observing the scene playing out. It only takes the deft creature a few short seconds of observation before he spots you. "I didn't know you were with somebody, Papa."

A mix of flustered feelings crosses the man's face as he looks back and forth between you and the ghoul: desire, confusion... guilt. He'd normally never 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 feel guilty being caught between two lovers, if it had been any other lovers. But the two of you? You're the one soft spot he has in this world, and Omega is the one that holds him together when everything is falling apart.

"Terzo?" You ask, and you have to hold back a smug smile when his love drunk eyes meet yours, "Did you double-book yourself, love?"

When he bites his lip and looks down at his feet though, you know it's gone a little further than simple teasing.

Leaping from the bed, you rush to his side. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you whisper, "Hey, hey, what's wrong, huh?"

He looks as if he's about to tear up, "I don't want to lose either of you," he says weakly.

"What?? Who said anything about that?! No, it's okay, baby," you pull him into a hug, rubbing circles into his back to calm him ease his mind. "Why would you think that, sweetheart?"

"Because... You didn't know about each other," he straightens up a bit as he explains.

"Terz... Everyone in the world knows about you and Omega," you stroke his cheek again, "and I'm sure it's not lost on him that you take other lovers. Right, Omega?"

The ghoul simply nods, slipping his hand into his Papa's and caressing the smaller digits with his thumb. They share a long glance at one another before Terzo apologizes, "Mi dispiace."

"No apologies. It's all okay," you step back, giving him some space, but still holding his other hand, "besides... We could all have a lot of fun together, hm?"

The antipope looks down again, this time trying to hide his smile.

You take a step towards him, waiting for him to look up, so you can kiss him properly. Your lips move together until you suddenly break the kiss, Terzo chasing after you. "C'mon, Omega," you offer the invitation as you move behind your lover, nibbling on the shell of his ear. As he leans into your affections, the ghoul sees the time to strike; while Terzo's neck is exposed, Omega meets the skin with teeth and tongue.

The poor man trapped between you can't help the moan that rips from his chest. His mismatched eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack as his fingers clammer to hold onto anything: your thigh, Omega's arm, dear life.

It's only when Omega goes for the ties on his Papa's robes that the shorter one stiffens up again. Clutching the collar, he keeps the article of clothing closed. "Papa?" the ghoul asks, uncertainty in his tone. Very rarely is he barred from getting under his lover's clothes.

"I should go change," the raven haired man mumbles, but you catch him before he can get away from you.

"He's never seen you dressed up, has he?" you whisper quietly in his ear. He shakes his head no. You reply, a little louder this time, "You should show him how pretty you can be, 𝘭𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢..."

Terzo is pretty sure you're trying to break his brain. Caught once again between embarrassment and lust, he glances back and forth between his lovers. "I- I can't," he softly declares, face blooming a shade of red you'd never seen on him before.

Just as you're about to speak another phrase of encouragement, Omega simply takes his lover's hand again, gently tracing his large thumb over his small fingers. "Pretty Papa," is all the ghoul utters.

Terzo looks up, sharing a long look with his ghoul, before offering an almost imperceivable nod.

Slowly, almost glacially, Omega places a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, sliding the piece of silk out of the way to reveal a little more skin, as well as the same bra strap that had been peeking out earlier. He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to Terzo's lips, "Pretty Papa," he asserts again before moving forward with sliding his robe off.

It's tantalizing to watch these two with one another; they have a way of communicating with hardly any words. Trust is not something that one receives easily from Papa Emeritus the Third, but it runs deep with his ghoul, and one can practically see the loyalty present in Omega's eyes when he looks at his Papa. You can't help but imagine their nights together on tour, lost in one another's bodies and finding a little slice of home in each other when home was really halfway across the world.

It really is a simple set that Terzo is wearing: a sheer black bra with matching panties, with little bows tied at his hips and on his back, kind of like a dressed up bikini.

Omega growls at the sight, dropping to his knees. "Pretty Papa," he grumbles excitedly one last time before starting to place sloppy open mouthed kisses to his abdomen and above his hips, nails scratching at Terzo's soft thighs hard enough to leave bright red claw marks.

Overwhelmed as he is, your lover still turns to look for you as the demon draws little moans and whimpers from him. In a second, you're by his side, treating him with the soft kind of love that he likes: stroking his cheek and kissing his nose and heated gazes. The juxtaposition of yours and Omega's affections feel as if they're tearing the man asunder, but like a greedy little fool, he wants both. "I need you," he blurts out looking at you, "both of you," he finishes his sentence looking down at the ghoul knelt before him.

Knowing the desperate look in his lover's eyes, Omega picks him up, wrapping his muscular arms around his favorite pair of thighs. Trudging a few steps across the room, the ghoul makes a rag doll of Trrzo, tossing his small frame onto the plush pile of pillows. Before crawling on top of the man, Omega thinks better of it, turning to catch your eye. Sitting back on one heel while the other foot braces his weight on the floor, he turns halfway towards you, offering out his hand.

You consider him for a moment, then you carefully put your hand in his--and boy, do you become aware of how large this creature is when you do that. Expecting that he could whisk you across the room effortlessly, you're surprised to find how gentlemanly he is as he helps hoist you up onto the bed. Softly, you thank him before going to rest next to Terzo.

"La mia bestia knows how to be sweet when I want him to be," murmurs quietly in your ear, side-eyeing the demon. You offer a low chuckle before giving him a kiss, tracing your fingers along his neck and jawbone.

Suddenly, the man slips from your grasp down the bed, practically strung up by his feet by Omega. His lover pounces on top of him, claiming the smaller man's mouth and drawing a wimpy little moan from him. When the kids is broken, you hear Terzo speak up again, "Now, amante, it isn't nice to swipe toys away from others on the playground."

Omega shoots a look at you then back at Terzo. With a growl and a nip on his lover's ear, he murmurs, "You are a toy. My favorite toy..." Without another word, he picks the man up, whipping him around so Terzo's back is flush with the demon's abdomen. "I guess I'll share," he grunts, trailing long claws up tan thighs and threatening the ties on the little black lingerie set. "Il mio bel Papa," the ghoul places possessive kisses marking Terzo's neck. It's enchanting to hear him speak Italian. "Ragazzo dolce, it will be a shame to take it off, but you have quite the treat to share with her."

A gasp, then a sigh, as Terzo's eyes flutter upward, finally receiving some relief where he needs it most. The ghoul's oversized hand massages him through the fine silk, expertly working base and tip simultaneously. With his knees trembling, your Papa reaches back to brace himself, nails digging into Omega's ink black thighs. He'd been teased and edged by you all afternoon into the evening; it wouldn't take much for him to come undone.

By this point, you can't help but slip your fingers over your clothed folds at the sight of how Omega handles your shared lover. Watching him rake his nails over Terzo's hips until those little black bows loosen, revealing him to you both is something you could watch over and over again. The size of his taloned hand taking over the length that had made you feel so full before...

"Hnnngg..." the whine abruptly rips itself from the small man through, "Ah! Ommegahhhnnn..."

The sound of your Papa whining for someone so desperately sends waves of heat through you, but it's immediately overshadowed by the sudden pang of guilt you feel as the ghoul barks a swift, commanding, "NO." Omega grips the base of Terzo's cock tightly, eliciting a high pitched groan from the raven haired man as his body bucks, eyes screwed shut.

You'd never been so cruel as to completely deny your lover of his orgasm; even if your edging went overboard, you couldn't resist seeing Terzo in such pleasure. But wow, Omega even made you feel like your hand had been caught in the cookie jar with that harsh demand.

Terzo chokes out a sob, his body held up only by Omega's grip on him: one hand still firmly around his member and the other wrapped tightly around his Papa's chest and shoulders. When Terzo turns to his beloved demon with tear-filled eyes, the ghoul simply chuckles, remarking, "We couldn't have you ruin all the fun so soon, hm?" before tossing him aside, where he lands beside you.

In an instant, you're wrapped around him, as he curls up catching his breath. Placing kisses to the top of his head and smoothing down his raven locks, you whisper how good he was, telling him what a great job he did, and that it's all okay. "You're still my pretty principessa," you smile at him before he pulls you in for another one of your honey-sweet kisses. "Are you okay?" you inquire more seriously after.

He nods, reassuring you that this isn't his first rodeo, "You should see me in the Ghoul's Den... Although I must admit, this is a heady combination of lovers for me." Both of you share a breathy laugh, falling into snuggling once again, hands trailing one another's bodies as you're careful to avoid what is likely a very overstimulated area on him.

Skilled hands apply the perfect amount of pressure as they squeeze and pinch your flesh, drawing his favorite little noises from you. As his fingers slide the strap of your lingerie from your shoulder, his lips follow sensually, trailing feather light kisses to your soft skin. "It is time to take this off, no?" He always asks permission before undressing you, and you always concede; no one makes getting undressed as romantic as Terzo.

As he slides the last stitch of clothing off down your legs, you pose a question, "What about this?" You gesture towards his lacy black bra, "Do you want this off?"

Smirking, he shakes his head no, "We will let Omega have his fun."

As if on queue, the demon reappears at the foot of the bed, completely devoid of clothes, his large member in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. Terzo perks up, a knowing look on his face, before he crawls down the bed and places a kiss to Omega's lips before spinning around and positioning himself on all fours in front of his lover. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦.

"You won't get it so easy tonight, Papa," the demons voice rumbles.

Terzo's head spins around so fast you're sure he just have whiplash.

Omega chuckles darkly, "It would be rude to forget your other guest." He grabs Terzo's jaw, forcing him to hold eye contact, "Pleasure her. Prepare her as I prepare you." One final swipe of the pad of his thumb across the smaller man's lips accentuates his point.

The raven haired man turns back to you, gesturing for you to lie in front of him, "Good thing-"

"𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘩." The word is accented by a harsh smack on Terzo's thigh, "You're nothing but our toy tonight."

Papa feigns a pitiful look, but he does a poor job hiding his smirk as he falls to his elbows between your legs. Starting with a few soft open-mouthed kisses on your folds, he assumes the position: arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place, ass high up in the air for Omega to have his way with.

Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, you find some much needed relief against his tongue. Holding eye contact with him, your soft moans let your lover know that he's doing an excellent job, as always.

Behind him, Omega places a lubed up finger right where his amore wants it most. You feel Terzo suck in an anticipatory breath before continuing his ministrations. Teasingly, the ghoul circles his finger around before pushing slowly into his lover, drawing a needy moan from him.

It feels good when Terzo moans against you like that. You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair to let him know.

Omega starts properly working the smaller man open, pumping one finger then two in and out of his tight little hole. Terzo eats you out like a man starved, throwing himself into the task at hand to keep from getting worked up too quickly. He hollows out his cheeks as he sucks your clit hard, tongue still flicking over your bud.

By now, you're much noisier than before between Terzo's wicked tongue and the sight of Omega turning his boyfriend to putty. In that moment, you learn there's nothing quite as hot as when Terzo's tongue stutters, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows knitted upward as Omega finds that sweet spot inside him.

The ghoul only tortures his lover momentarily, pulling three thick fingers out of him before lining his monstrous member up between those plump cheeks. "You want it?"

Terzo let's out a shaky, "Mm-hmmm..." nodding against your core. He looks up to you almost as if to apologize, for what you don't know. Maybe for what you're about to witness. Maybe because he's a little distracted from the way he normally pleases you.

Either way, no apology was needed. You're more turned on than you have been in a while seeing these two together.

Slicking up with a bit more lube, Omega slides past his Papa's rim with a pop, earning guttural noises from the small man. All of a sudden, Terzo is pulled away from you entirely as the ghoul manhandles the little black bra, gripping it to roughly push his lover back on his cock. Terzo fists the sheets in pain and pleasure as he takes everything the demon will give him.

"Good boy. Pretty Papa."

"Ohh-Omegaahh..." he huffs, eyes glazed over.

The ghoul leans over his lover, rocking in and out of him slowly until he's full to the hilt before whispering, "You're falling down on the job, Papa," and gesturing at you.

Knowing that Omega won't give him what he wants until he's done as he's told, Terzo grabs you by the ankles, roughly dragging you down the bed and reattaching his mouth to you. It's nearly overwhelming not only physically, but also the way that this ghoul makes your Papa act like he's searching for an oasis in the desert: he'll get what he craves if he works hard enough for it.

This time, the raven haired man hikes your legs up, hooking them on his shoulders and doesn't hesitate to slip two digits into you. The rush of it all doesn't give you time to falter--you're hurdling right towards the edge.

Only then does the ghoul settle into a rhythm--a fierce punishing rhythm--thrusting in and out of Terzo.

Locking eyes with equally desperate looks, you and Terzo find yourselves at the mercy of Omega, dominant enough to command two lovers at once. Tremors ripple through your body as your orgasm overcomes you; hot white takes over your vision as Papa obediently works you through your high.

Coming back to reality, you find your body directly beneath your lover's, his wild lust-blown eyes looking for yours. Oversensitivity rushes through you as Terzo rocks his member against your dripping wet cunt, controlled by the rough drag of Omega's hips.

"Per favore... lasciami prenderti, per favore," the raven haired man huffs his need in your ear, to which you nod your consent.

With a groan, he enters you; it won't be long until he's spent. Omega has to practically force the smaller man's hips up as he collapses on top of you, his arms weak from the evening.

Greedily, Terzo laps at your skin, kissing and sucking your neck and chest. In that moment, your hands tangled in those short black locks, your eyes wander up to the dark figure at the edge of the bed. Mesmerized, he watches the point where he's connected with the man that hold his heart. Like shockwaves, you feel the passionate way he fills Terzo, making the smaller man press into you.

Were it not for his ink black skin, you would've sworn he was blushing as his voice finally breaks, "Ter... Terzo-"

"Dammelo 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰!" Terzo barks at his lover, knowing exactly what that one little word from the ghoul means.

With a growl, Omega fiercely grabs Terzo's shoulder, forcing his body back on his swollen knot. Just before Papa's length pulled out of you, they both rock back forward into you. Letting out a whorish moan, Terzo cums deep inside you; both your body and his are rushed full of warmth as the two men finish. The idea alone sends another small ripple through you...

You wrap your arms around the man pressed tight against your body, massaging your hands across his back as you watch him grunt and moan his way through his orgasm. Your soothing motions are cut short by a heavy weight on one your hands. Warm but electrifying, Omega's hand encapsulates yours. Looking up, you make eye contact--𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 make eye contact--with the ghoul for the first time.

You feel connected with him in some way, like you can feel how much he appreciates what you do for the man he loves. Terzo and Omega possess one another in the way they love, but Omega recognizes that his Papa needs the tenderness that you offer.

Flashing an almost imperceptible smirk at the beast, your attention is pulled back to the one lying on top of you.

"Mmhuuhh..." he mutters

"Hmm?" you ask, smiling down at Terzo, "You okay?"

"Mm.. completely, uhhh, fucked out," he sputters against your chest before pulling out of you.

Both you and Omega chuckle at the little man, and in one swift motion, Omega turns them both so they're lying on their sides next to you, still connected at the knot.

"C'mere," Terzo mumbles, grabbing at your waist.

Sliding in to cuddle with them, you jest, "How do you have even an ounce of energy left, principessa?"

"I don't," he squints his eyes to steal a glance up at you.

Leaning down, you kiss his forehead, "Go to sleep. Sweet dreams, Papa."

[thelastofmel]

Waterfalls

Jesse x f!reader

Word count: 6541 words Summary: Good things happen when you stray from the beaten path <3 Warnings: 18+, smut, joel! and tommy!'s niece, mentions of tattoos, brief fingering, unprotected sex, some use of y/n, Jesse being so so hot, swearing A/N: Ya'll I've been so sick the last couple of days but finally feeling better! I have sooo many ideas that I am trying to flesh out. This is sorta based off of multiple requests I received so pls continue to send those in. :)

It was the dead of summer in Wyoming and although you enjoyed feeling the sun on your skin, you couldn't ignore how incredibly hot it was. There hadn't been any infected or raiders around the town in months, but Tommy and the council still insisted on sending out patrols in the surrounding areas.

Usually, you preferred being out on patrol, free from the watchful eye of your uncles but today you were regretting not staying back and hiding somewhere in the shade. The sun was high in the sky as the horses trotted beside each other, making their way across the green landscape. 

You had to admit the sight was breathtaking, especially after the grueling winter that seemed to last forever and nearly tore apart the community. But you could only focus on the heat that was baking down on your exposed shoulders.

"It's too fuckin' hot for this shit" You whined, tying your hair up and off your neck in an effort to cool down. "I feel like my skin is burning off"

"All you've done is whine today" Jesse points out, looking along the hillside ahead before glancing your way, catching the dirty look you were giving him, "I hate to break it to you, but we still have a couple hours before we switch out with the next patrol"

You rolled your eyes, mocking him before sitting up straighter on Shimmers saddle to prove a point, "I do not whine"

"What were you just doing?" He teased, moving the reins on his horse, Cherry, before looking back to you, only this time he wore a smug smirk when you didn't answer. "Exactly"

"Shut up" You quipped back, blowing a piece of hair, that had fallen from your bun, out of your face. You avoided his eyes as you realized, feeling the urge to whine again, "You're so annoying"

You were close with Jesse even though he was a couple years older than you. As the community of Jackson grew, he became somewhat of a right-hand man to your uncles. Tommy and Joel could trust him with almost everything, including you, the only daughter to their deceased sister. 

Jesse was one of the only people in town that you truly enjoyed being around and Tommy knew it, which is why he turned a blind eye when Jesse would manipulate the schedules, so he was assigned to the same patrols or gate duty. At least with Jesse they knew you were safe, no matter if you were inside the walls or outside. 

"Gimme your water" You whined again, holding your hand out to him, flexing your fingers as you waited expectantly. When he didn't make a move for his canteen you leaned over from your horse, reaching for where he stored it in his saddle bag.

"No way" Jesse chuckled, veering his horse to avoid you, "Get your kleptomaniac hands away from me"

"I am not a kleptomaniac" You giggled at the accusation, nearly falling off your horse as you stay outstretched toward him, wiggling your fingers.

"Says the freak who has tried to steal every single one of my knives" He replies, making sure his current knife was still in its holster and wasn't taken when he wasn't paying attention.

"Your knives are better than mine" You frown, giving up and sitting up straight again, before throwing your head back, looking at the clear blue sky above, "Jesssssse please-" 

"Nope," He shook his head, "I warned you not to use all of your water earlier, but you didn't listen"

You groaned at his lecturing, sending daggers at the side of his head as he moved back closer to you. You hated when he was right. The two of you had been about two hours into the ride and you were already miserable with the heat. You had only been joking at first but when he told you not to do it, you felt challenged. So, you had turned toward him, uncapped your canteen and poured the water inside over your face and neck.

"It worked for about thirty minutes" You argued, remembering how refreshing it felt in the moment, before snapping out of it, "Come on"

He shook his head at you, doing a poor job at hiding his amused expression, "One of us needs to keep water to actually drink"

You sighed dramatically, draping yourself over Shimmer's neck and watching Jesse as his horse came back to walk near yours, "How are you not dying right now?"

He shrugged, adjusting himself on the saddle and rolling his shoulders back slightly. He was wearing a dark colored shirt that was absorbing the head from the sun. He took a quick glance at you, "Mind over matter"

"Bullshit" You said plainly, watching the warm breeze move his shirt against his chest, willing yourself to look away, before adding, "I don't think I've ever heard you complain about anything"

"You should try it" He countered quickly, smiling to himself at the quick comeback that you should've saw coming. 

But it was true. He didn't complain. Not when your uncles gave him odd jobs around the town. Not when it was below freezing in the winter, and especially not now in the heat of summer. He took everything in stride.

"You should fuck off"

He laughed then, reaching over and pinching at the skin of your leg, moving away before you could swat at him. The two of you rode in a comfortable silence as you tried your best to practice what Jesse had mentioned.

Mind over matter. 

Mind over matter.

Mind over matter.

"Can we please just take a break?" You cry out, feeling sweat pooling in your crevices. "The horses are probably exhausted"

"Wow, that was a new record," Jesse commended you sarcastically. From the corner of your eye, you could see him lean over slightly, running his hand over the neck of his horse, Cherry. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a minute, "If we take a break will you stop complaining?"

You nodded eagerly, watching as he grabbed his map from the saddle bag, spreading it out in front of him, "I think if we head North a couple clicks, we can stop at the—"

You reached over from your horse, snatching the map from his hands in one quick motion, "I know the perfect spot"

"Absolutely not," He moved to grab it back from you, as best as he could before you held it out of his reach on the other side of Shimmer. "If we're going to stop then we stop at the designated point where—"

"–Jesse," You interrupted him, annoyed, "Just this once can we stray from the beaten path?"

Before he could answer you were using your newfound energy to move Shimmer into a canter, using your leg pressure and the reins to encourage her into a full gallop, leaving him behind.

The warm breeze brought you somewhat relief as you moved across the plain. You didn't have to turn around to know that Jesse was hot on your heels. He always was. 

You learned a long time ago that it's better to just go and let him ask his questions once he caught up with you. He was often too much of a stick in the mud to stray from the rules, especially when it involved the beloved niece of the most influential men in Jackson.

You steered Shimmer down the hillside before making a sharp turn towards the forest and off the path that the patrols used. It felt freeing going where you knew the patrols had never been before, pushing the boundaries of what you were used to.

After a couple of minutes, you were coming to a thicker part of the forest and just as you hoped there was a path large enough for the horses to move through in a single file. You allowed Shimmer to make her way through as there had been broken branches and small hills ahead.

"We shouldn't be out this far without calling it in, this area hasn't been cleared on our patrols," Jesse warned from behind you, making sure his knife was easily accessible in his thigh holster, "Y/n? Are you listening to me?"

"Do you hear that?" You hushed him, throwing your hand back at him as you moved through the dense trees.

"No, I don't hear anything," He argued, becoming frustrated with you. "This is not-"

 "If you shut up, you'll hear it" You interrupted him again, suddenly coming up on a clearing. 

The trees thinned out and you were meant with a bed of thick green moss with a waterfall just beyond a border of smooth rocks. The waterfall cascaded down a sheer cliff face in front of you, nearly thirty feet tall. The water flowed over the ledge in a curtain of mist. The water droplets falling, creating a fine spray and coating the surrounding area in a faint later of moisture, which glistened in the sunlight. And even though the air was still hot and humid, the trees surrounding the area and the mist off the falls created an oasis of coolness.

"It's better than I ever could have imagined" You whispered, taking in the beauty before you as Shimmer came to halt. You dismounted, hand dragging along her neck as you guided her to the water to drink, admiring the beauty of the scene.

"How'd did you know this was here?" Jesse asked suddenly, following suit as you heard his feet hit the ground and move behind you.

"I didn't," You mumbled, then shook your head slightly too mesmerized to think properly, "Well I did—I was looking through Tommy's maps and I found one that showed this place but I didn't believe it would actually be here"

When he moved beside you, his arm brushed against yours, causing a chill to run over you. You were sure it was from the sudden coolness but still gasped quietly.

"I have to call this in" He muttered to himself, head on a swivel, scoping out the area before turning on his heel.

"Wait," You moved quick, beating him back to Cherry and doing your best to block him from the saddle bag where he kept his walkie, "What if you don't call it in?"

Jesse was significantly taller and stronger than you. He could have easily moved you out of his way, but he didn't instead he scanned your face, eyes jumping back to yours, "That would be against protocol"

"What if we forget about following the rules, just this once?" You asked innocently, reaching out and shaking his shoulders slightly, in an attempt to persuade him, "It can be our little secret"

He sighed, glancing down at you once more before looking over to the waterfall. You could see the gears turning in his head before he took a step back, "10 minutes and then we are back on patrol, understood?"

"Understood" You gesture a mock salute before grabbing his bicep and jumping up and down beside him, "I knew my fun Jesse was in there somewhere"

He rolled his eyes, taking a couple steps closer to the falls, feeling the mist hit him in the face. He had to admit that this place was be amazing. 

Behind him you were leaning against Cherry, using her for balance as you removed your socks and shoes. Jesse turned back around to say something, raising an eyebrow at you, "What're you doing?"

"I'm getting in the water" You said, in an obvious tone, standing up straight feeling the moss between your toes. Your hand found the tie in your hair, removing it and letting the locks cascade down your back in small waves, "What does it look like?"

"No, we aren't staying" Jesse argued, moving to walk back toward you as you peeled your tank top from your torso and over your head, exposing the light-colored bra underneath. He stopped in his tracks, immediately averting his eyes as you tossed the top across a low hanging branch, "Y/n–"

"You said 10 minutes" You said reiterated, amused at the way he reacted to you undressing in front of him, "It's hot as hell and I'm getting in that water; so are you," You fumbled with the button on your jeans before tugging them down your thighs, "So take your damn clothes off"

"Can you stop stripping" He suggested, shifting on the soft ground.

You laughed at his demeanor, adjusting your underwear, making sure you weren't completely exposed as you tossed your jeans onto the branch. "Big strong Jesse is afraid of some skin," You teased, moving away from his horse and stopping in front of him. He was still staring off to the surrounding trees with a tinge of red across his cheeks, "You don't have to protect my modesty, Jess, it's just us" 

He still didn't look at you, but you watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed, huffing as if he was annoyed at you. 

You moved away from him, walking across the flat rocks that bordered the water, letting the cool mist hit your bare skin.

"I think you should come off those rocks" He warned, finally looking at you and urging himself not to focus on the fact that you were standing in only your undergarments. "It's breathtaking" You said in awe, dipping your toe in the crystal-clear water, testing the temperature, before you let your eyes move up the waterfall, "I mean look at it"

"It's breathtaking," He was looking at it, but he was mainly looking at you, who looked like an angel with the halo of mist floating around you, "But it's not safe to—" 

Before he could finish his thought, you were jumping off the rock and disappearing into the rippling water. Jesse rushed to the rock where you had just been standing, panicked until he saw you resurface a couple feet away. The water was clear and from his spot above he could see your legs pumping to keep yourself above water. You moaned, ducking your head back, letting your hair spread out across the water's surface, "It feels amazing"

"Can you please get out now?" He asked, relaxing after seeing you were okay. He was kneeling on the smooth rock, staring down at you as you floated on your back. It was then that he realized your bra was completely see through after being soaking wet.

"Nope" You sighed happily, smiling up at him. For the first time all day you felt completely at peace, "But you can join me"

"What if a heard of infected show up?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

"Well I guess I'll die" You hummed, lifting your hand and watching the water roll down your arm before dropping it back in the water, "At least I'll die happy"

"Y/n" His voice was calling out your name again, a disapproving tone that you'd heard a million times. 

God, he was starting to sound like your uncles. 

"Jesse" You mocked in the same tone. When he didn't respond, you splashed water up at him, "What do I have to do to get captain wyoming in this water with me?"

He watched you as your body seemed to glide through the water below him. Even under the water he could see how your bra was clinging to yours chest, leaving little to the imagination. He shook the thought from his head, biting at his lip, thinking. The mist was hitting him in the face and mixing with the sweat beads on his skin. "Promise me something?"

You dunked your head again, letting the fresh droplets run down your face as you stared up at him, "Anything"

"I'll get in if you promise to not complain on patrol for the rest of the week" He set his terms, and you couldn't help but smile so big it crinkled the corners of your eyes. It would be nearly impossible; you both knew it. 

"I promise" You moved your hands through the water, keeping yourself at the surface, lying through your teeth. Jesse lets out a sigh as he unties his boots before standing and kicking them off.  "Hurry up, it's lonely in here"

He gives you an annoyed look before moving back towards the horses with boots and socks in hand. He has his back to you as he pulls off his shirt with one hand and throwing it next to yours on the branch. From the water you can see his back muscles flexing and you urge yourself to look away, but you can't. 

You see him look around the area once more as his fingers work at his belt. You sigh, kicking a little further from the edge to get a better look at him, "What's taking so long Jesse?"

He mutters something that you couldn't hear over the crashing of the waterfall behind you, before he is discarding his pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You didn't know what you expected, you knew Jesses body was toned and muscular, thanks to years of physical activity and fighting. But your mouth still went dry as he turned to face you.

His arms were strong and well-defined, his stomach flat with a hint of six pack. His skin shining with a tan, golden brown from hours spent outdoors, and something you didn't expect to see. A patch of ink running along the side of his ribcage. 

He stood at the edge of the rocks, and you attempted to hide the fact that you were staring, as he set his long knife on the edge of the rock. You decided not to say anything, knowing that having the knife close by was going to bring him peace, and also because you don't trust your voice at the sight of him.

Closer now you were able to get a better look at the tattoo. It was a rose, colored with a gray shading and prominent against his rugged side. You finally opened your mouth wanting to ask about it but was interrupted by Jesse jumping off the rock. His body sliced through the water and disappeared for a moment before shooting up again, breaking through the surface with a splash.

"Fuck," He yelled out, as he shook his head, water droplets clinging to his body, running down his hair and face in rivulets. He wiped at his face a wide grin spreading across his lips, "It's cold"

You giggled, swimming over toward him, heart pounding from the effort you were using to keep yourself up or the fact that he was right in front of you again, "Feels good to break the rules huh?"

Jesse chuckled, letting his chin dip back into the water as he raised his hand and splashed water at your already wet face, "You just love the idea of rebelling" He replied, his expression relaxed and carefree, "Anything to go against your uncles"

"To an extent" You agreed, splashing him back, there was no point in denying, he knew you too well. You moved to your back again, floating and giving your legs a chance to rest, "But you have to admit this is my best idea yet"

Jesse followed your movement, laying back into the water and floating alongside of you. The mist of the waterfall nearby coating your faces that sat above the water. The feeling of the water was soothing on his aching muscles. He turned to look at you, his gaze locking on the sky above, through the tops of the trees he could see the sun rays peeking through, "I'll give you that"

After a minute you moved in the water, getting the chance to see him actually enjoying himself. His eyes shut and lips parted, as the sun danced through the trees and hit the droplets on his face, making him almost sparkle. You could really see the tattoo now and couldn't stop yourself from reaching out and tracing it. 

"I didn't know you had a tattoo" Your wet finger was slick against his skin as the water lapped against him where he floated. 

He peeked at you through half closed eyes, trying to ignore your touch, "I'm not usually shirtless around you" 

"It's pretty," You ignored his remark, tracing the petals of the flower as he shivered in the water, moving off his back to swim normally in front of you. "Why a rose?"

"My moms favorite flower" Jesse said simply, disappearing under the water again. He stayed there for a couple seconds, giving you time to regret bringing it up in the first place. His mom had died a couple years back right after you had first met him. He didn't talk about her much. When he did come back above the surface, he had fresh beads of water dropping from his face.

"I think that's sweet," You smiled, feeling your leg rub against his as you tread water, "Who did it?"

"Your best friend Cara" He chuckled, already knowing you would feel some type of way. 

Cara was his ex-girlfriend. You should have assumed, she was a great artist, just not a great girlfriend. Needless to say, she had a habit of hooking up with other guys in town when Jesse was on patrols. You were relieved when he finally broke up with her. 

 "Oh god" You laughed, remembering that she also hated everything about you. Especially hated how well you got along with her boyfriend at the time, "You think she would put aside her hatred long enough to tattoo me?"

"I'm sure your uncles will love that" Jesse gave you a lopsided smirk, as moved away from him, swimming closer to the waterfall. 

As you approached it your bare feet found footing on an underwater rock, and you were able to stand with your shoulders poking out from the surface.

You moved to stand under the falls. As the water hit your skin, it felt like a natural shower, clean and rejuvenating, sending chills all through your body as the water enveloped you. You lifted your face to feel the full force of the falling water, letting it rush over you and through your hair. It was refreshing, and you could feel the tension and stress draining out of you. You parted your lips, soaking up every minute.

Jesse followed, standing up on the same rock, with his height his upper chest was now exposed out of the water. Water trickled down his chest, tracing the defined lines of his muscles, his body glistening. The sound of the waterfall filled the air, the rushing water creating small waves and filling the silence that settled between you.

He couldn't help but smile at you, watching as you closed your eyes and let the water wash over you, completely enveloping you in the waterfall's spray. He watched the water run down your body, your every curve and contour on full display. He felt a stirring in his stomach.

You saw him staring and suddenly reached out, tugging him under the waterfall with you. He nearly tripped his head dipping under the spray of the waterfall, letting it hit him the same way. The water rushed down his face and splashed across his broad shoulders, causing his muscles to flex slightly. A low groan escaped his lips at the sensation.

"I wonder if anyone else knows—" The question caught in your throat as you turned back toward him, realizing just how close he stood, the space between you almost non-existent. You immediately forgot what you were asking as you watched the water droplets cling to his eyelashes, his gaze intense.

You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, even with the cold water all around you, adding a strange element to the moment. You found yourself unable to look away. 

"10 minutes are up," Jesse's voice was low and filled with a hint of reluctance as he spoke, his hand brushing against your arm beneath the water's surface. The touch was light, but it sent shivers down your spine, the intimacy of the moment intensifying whatever was burning between you, "—We should be getting back"

You could feel your heart rate quicken, the sound of it echoing in your ears. You nodded breathlessly, blinking away the water from your eyelashes, but you couldn't bring yourself to make any movement, your body frozen in place as you stood before him under the waterfall.

Jesse blinked, as if coming back to reality before clearing his throat. But he couldn't hide the way he looked at your lips, no matter how brief. He set his jaw before moving out from under the falls, that is until you followed him, "Wait," You reached out, hand grabbing his bicep, turning him back to face you, "I want to try something"

Before you could let yourself overthink the moment you were closing the gap between the two of you, your hand trailing down his arm, skin slick under your touch. Your lips found his, gently locking onto them. The wetness of his lips sent a chill down your spine as you moved carefully closer to him, the cool water a stark contrast to the heat emanating off of both your bodies.

To your surprise he kissed you back, carefully like he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. Your mouths moved in sync until you felt his hands on your shoulders, physically moving you back away from him. He held you at arm's length.

The water was still falling beside the two of you bouncing off your arm as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You couldn't believe you'd just kissed him, and you couldn't believe that you wanted to do it again.

"That can't happen again" He said, dropping his hands from you, running one of them over his face, ridding it of the beads again.

"Why not?" You hummed, wading through the water, closer to him. Your hand reached out to touch his side, desperate to feel his warm skin again.

"Because" He said, blinking again, glancing back at the horses who munched on the grass, enjoying the shade.

"What are you so scared of?" You urged, feeling an aching growing inside of you. You knew what his lips tasted like now and you weren't sure you would ever forget.

"Your uncles" He replied truthfully as you moved your feet across the rock. 

"I don't see them anywhere" You teased, biting at your lip, watching how his chest was rising and falling. Your finger was trailing over his abs.

He grabbed your wrist gently, shivering from your touch, "They will kill me," He said in a serious tone. You stared up at his eyes before glancing down at his lips again, as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip. His thumb rubbed at the skin on your wrist absentmindedly, "And I don't think I'll be able to stop myself"

You were leaning up on your toes, your wet bra pressing against his bare chest, whispering over the rushing water beside you, "Then don't"

Jesse grabbed at you, leaning down and catching your lips with his own in a quick motion. His touch was firm yet gentle, hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer to him. The force of the movement pushed you back under the waterfall. The cool water from the cascaded down around your bodies, enveloping you both in a cocoon of privacy like this part of the world only belonged to the two of you.

He held you tight against him, parting your lips with this tongue, begging for entrance. You smiled against him, as he grabbed your chin and tilted your head, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

"I knew I'd rub off on you" You breathed out against him, feeling your knees go weak at the way he kissed you.

You leaned in closer, feeling his fingers dancing on your exposed skin. The taste of the water mingling with the taste of him. Your body ached to be closer, relishing in the feel of his muscles under your touch.

The kiss deepened as you ran your hands through his wet hair, the water creating a sensual sensation against your skin. Jesse pulled back slightly like he was going to stop again, but you didn't give him the chance pulling him back against you. The kissing growing even more intense, fueled by the water surrounding you both. His hand came up, gripping your neck, his touch possessive and demanding. You felt sparks of desire coursing through your veins, the world fading away as you melted into him, your bodies pressed together in a way that left all other thoughts in the distance.

You felt as though you were going to levitate from your body when you felt his hand leave your throat and slip under the water, between your thighs. You were tingling with anticipation long before you even felt his fingers against you. The water lapping around you added to the sensation, the cool liquid contrasting with the heat of his touch as his fingers danced over the fabric of your underwear. You let out a gasp, your body arching into him, the desire growing to an almost unbearable level.

Jesse's lips found your neck, nibbling at the skin. His ministrations almost sending you over the edge. He knew exactly how to touch you, the right pressure points, the right movements, the right pace. It was as if he knew your body better than you did, and every touch left you writhing in pleasure.

"Jesse," You were whining again, head falling back in the water, your hair floating around you like a halo. Your face was the very picture of pleasure; eyes closed with your mouth open in pure ecstasy. He couldn't tear his gaze away from you, his touch growing more insistent, more desperate. He could feel your body trembling beneath his touch, each moment bringing you closer to the edge, "Don't stop"

He did as you demanded, continuing the same motion in the water and suddenly you were forced back up against him from the sheer pleasure, crying out as your water-logged hair smacked against your back. You buried your face into his hard chest, heaving breathing and body shaking slightly.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his hand now rubbing slow circles as he felt you throbbing under the water and utterly spent. You sighed happily, clinging onto him as you caught your breath.

"I wasn't expecting that" You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up at how quickly things had escalated, but then you were leaning back up to kiss him again. His hand, which had been between your legs only moments ago, now moved to your ass, squeezing it briefly, "You're driving me insane"

He smirked against you, leaning down slightly as his hands found the back of your thighs in the water. He lifted you effortlessly and your legs locked around him immediately as he pulled you closer, your bare skin brushing against his. You were nearly completely out of the water now, still feeling the waterfall around you and he was supporting your weight, his grip strong and unshakeable.

The cool water felt electric on your skin after what just happened as he back you up against it, the waterfall creating a veil of privacy around you both as you swirled your tongue over his.

"What are we doing" He pulled back as if a moment of clarity came to him. His lips glide over your wet skin and kiss at your neck again.

"Breaking the rules," You moaned, dropping your head back to give him more access to your neck. He paused, his teeth gently grazing your sensitive skin. Your fingernails moved over his back, leaving a trail of goosebumps, "Do you wanna stop?"

Jesse's response was a deep, low chuckle that rumbled in his chest, his grip tightening around you. It was good enough for you as you moved your hands to lace around his neck and bring his lips back to yours.

His hands roamed over your back under the falling water, his touch firm and possessive, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. You could feel the desire building between you, the energy crackling with every touch. You arched your back, pressing yourself even closer, your body craving to be closer.

Jesse listened to your body, pressing you up against the smooth, damp rocks, behind the water fall, his body pinning you in place. The falling water was now behind him. If you hadn't been so wrapped up with the thought of him against you, you would have been in awe. Behind the waterfall was a covering, once that provided privacy and muted the sounds of the world beyond you. All you knew in this moment was Jesse and his hands on you.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a gasp from you as your back found the cold rock. His hands gripped you with just enough pressure as you ran your hands all over him, the water making everything slick.

You could've screamed at the sheer desire coursing through you as he moved against you, your bodies now cradled behind the water.

Your hands found his broad shoulders that blocked the majority of spray. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his skin glistening in an intoxicating way before he was back against you, kissing you hard.

It was your turn to dip your hand below the surface of the water, under the waistband of his boxers. The sound of his moan echoed against the rock, the cool air from the falls sending a shiver running down your spine. You smirked, relishing in the sound and the way he squirmed at your touch. His hands came up cup your face, trying to not focus on the way you were touching him.

He moaned into your mouth, breathing hard as you pumped your hands around his shaft in the water. Judging by the way your bodies were responding to each other's touch, it was clear you both had been hiding your feelings for some time.

He moved his mouth to your bra, pulling the soaking wet fabric away to reveal your hardened nipples. He swirled his tongue around them as you picked up your pace, biting your lip at the sight of him.

"Fuck" He whined, muffling his sounds by kissing your breasts again before pulling his head back and making you look at him, "Do you want to?"

"I want you" You answered, letting him go and pulling his waist into you, feeling him hard against your thigh. Your eyes were wide in anticipation.

"You sure?" He breathed, wincing as his sensitivity grew.

"Mhm," You nodded, unable to hide the desperation that was growing as you begged, "Don't overthink it"

He kissed you sloppily, mouth devouring you as he moved further against you, his hand finding your right leg and moving it up, opening you further to him. Your hands fell to his hard chest, nails raking lightly against his skin, leaving a trail of red lines in their wake. His body responded to your touch, muscles flexing under your fingers.

Under the water you felt his finger graze your core as he pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side. He broke the kiss long enough to peer through the water and line himself up with you. When you felt him at your entrance you moaned, attaching your lips back to his.  

He moved closer on the rock you two had been standing on and he gasped as he slid into you, now flush between you legs. The sensation was like nothing you had felt before, making you dig your nails into his back. 

"Talk to me" He encouraged, giving you time to adjust. 

"It's good," You sighed, closing your eyes and moving your mouth to his shoulder, kissing him there, "I'm good"

With that he began to pump into you, slow and sensual at first, finding a rhythm as the water lapped between your bodies. He supported your leg, moving it slightly to hit a better angle. After a minute he was picking up the pace, moving his other arm to cushion your back from the force of him pushing you against the wall.

His breathy whines echoed, against the wet walls around you and you were thankful for the sound coverage unable to contain the cries bubbling from your throat. ��

Each time he plunged into you felt you felt yourself getting closer and closer. He picked up a desperate pace, losing the rhythm he once had. You moved one of your hands to the wall behind you, trying to brace yourself as he hit the perfect spot in your throbbing core. 

"Fuck-" You cried out, moving your hips in tandem against him, riding him until you were screaming out. You could hardly catch your breath, riding out the high of your orgasm before he was kissing you again, moaning into your mouth.

The feeling of your juices spreading over him was enough to send him over the edge, pulling out at that last second. 

You immediately felt his absence between your legs as your breathing even out. It was soon replaced by him feeling his lips, kissing along your collarbone.

He let your leg relax back in the water as you arched into him. He kept his hand behind your back on the wall, but moved it to cradle your head, playing with your hair. His lips ghosted over your lips as if he was savoring the moment before you closed the space, giggling, "You have no idea how long I wanted to do"

"Probably just as long as I've wanted to" You said, in between kisses. 

His tongue was slipping into your mouth again finding your tongue and massaging, like he couldn't get enough of you. You moved your legs back around his waist, letting him take you away from the wall and back under the falling water. This time you squealed when the water engulfed the two of you. 

When he stepped to the other side you broke the kiss, looking up at the sky. It was still sunny and the air was thick but you felt like time had passed, as if everything had changed.

Jesse nudged your cheek with his nose, bringing you attention back to him as he held you up, your feet barely touching the water. You kissed him again, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging it gently, teasing him, "Are you still thinking about my uncles?" 

Jesse laughed then, a deep rich sound that echoed against the waterfall behind you. You felt your heart swell at the sound. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he pecked your lips, "You're such a smartass"

You giggled against him, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, "I'm sure they won't hurt you too bad" 

"Maybe I'll just tell them you seduced me" He hummed, adjusting you on his waist and rubbing his thumbs against the side of your thighs as he stepped to the side of the rock by the waterfall.  

"You can tell them whatever you want," You pressed a kiss to his temple, then the tip of his nose, "As long as you keep bending the rules for me"

Instead of answering he kissed you again, holding you tighter and jumping off the rock, hitting the water where you had started this excursion. The splash startled the horses as you both surfaced, fresh beads of water dripping into your eyes as you laughed. 

You could get used to the hot weather if it meant more days like this with Jesse. 

[demons2003]

What Was Left Unsaid (Batman/Bruce Wayne x Reader)

Description: Bruce has many secrets, ones that he has always shared with you. But what happens that be was hiding the fact that your newest and youngest child that's been living with you for months is accually his child. One that should exist because of your own relationship.

Warnings: mentions (offscreen) of rape and drugging. Heartbreak.

"Tell me you are joking," I ask Bruce as we walk through our front door.

"You know I don't really joke," He says as he moves to take off my coat, my heart racing.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before you brought him into our home? You have a biological son!" I exclaim, moving out of his reach. He drops his hands in defeat and puts them in his pockets.

"I don't know." He says, turning away from me.

"Bruce, we have to talk about this," I say, moving after him. He ignores me and continues up the stairs. "Bruce, please," I plead again, but he ignores me. 'He has a 10 year old son. A son that isn't mine, even though we have been together since before we adopted Dick!'

As we both walk up the stairs, the boys all seem to come out of their rooms to find out what we are yelling about. "What's going on?" Jason asks us, seeming to square up a little towards Bruce.

"Nothing Jas, go back to whatever you were doing," I kindly say, pushing Bruce towards his office.

"You've been yelling since you walked in the door. Something is going on." Dick sasses, crocking a brow at us both.

"This is between us boys." Bruce snaps and turns around, heading into his office.

Before I can do the same, Tim grabs onto my hand. "You ok mum? You look like you've been crying." He whispers, looking at me with concern.

I smile at him and shake my head. "Yeah, Timmy, I'm ok. Just some adult things we gotta talk about." I whisper, taking my hand out of his and walking into the office, locking the door behind me.

I stand there for a second, trying to collect my thoughts. Bruce sits at his desk quietly as well, seeming to wait for me to speak first.

"Please tell me this is all a sick prank, and you aren't really the dad Bruce?" I ask him quietly, not moving from my spot at the door.

"I checked. He's mine." He says. I laugh a little and look up to try to stop the tears from falling.

"How? Bruce, we've been together for 15 years? If you have a 10 year old son...." I choke out, not wanting to say the words, but I know I have to. "....Then you cheated on me." I finally say, my chest tightening as the words leave my mouth.

"I honestly thought it was a dream," he whispers, which gets me to face him again. He's leaning on his desk, head in his hands, shaking his head like he doesn't believe it either.

"So you had a dream about cheating on me? That doesn't make me feel much better, Bruce. We tell each other everything? Why not this?" I question, finally stepping away from the door and sitting in the chair across from him. But he doesn't say anything.

He just leans on his desk, staring at the wood like it holds all the answers. His hands grip his hair so tight that his knuckles are turning white. He seems like he goes to say something a few times, but nothing ever comes out. But I wait. Wait for him to tell me something. An explanation. An excuse. Something. But nothing ever leaves his mouth.

"You gotta tell me something, Bruce. He's been living in our house!" I exclaim, my voice breaking. "I'm falling apart here, I need you to say something."

Finally, his lifts his eyes to mine. Eyes that I am bearly reconising right now. He's always shows his emotions in his eyes but never these. He's always been the strong one out of the two of us, but he seems broken right now, just like how I feel. But it doesn't answer what's going on right now.

"I didn't know how to tell you. I couldn't leave him on the street. I didn't know how to explain. I couldn't remember it well. It wasn't.." he trails off, looking away from me again.

"It wasn't what?!" I exclaim, standing as my anger starts to rise again. "It wasn't serious? It wasn't recent? It wasn't consensual?"

As the words leave my mouth, I watch as Bruce flitches just a little. He looks up at me, eyes broken before they shift. Instead of my Bruce, I have Batman sitting in front of me. Emotionless. Cold. He shut down on me.

"I don't know what you want me to say." He says, eyes not moving from mine.

"That's not good enough, Bruce." I whisper. Taking a step back. "I don't like what you've become." I say, shaking my head and backing further from the desk. "You were supposed to be mine. For fifteen years, you were mine. But now there's this.... reminder of someone else. A child that wasn't with me."

"It wasn't like that," He says.

"Then tell me what it was like, Bruce! Tell me why you did this to me?!" I snap at him, needing something that could ground me. But he just stares back down at the desk. The same expression on his face, like the wood holds all the answers. Answers he can't let me in on.

My heart shatters as I watch him staring, not moving at all, brarely even breathing. "I can't do this anymore." I whisper, moving towards the door. "I need some time to myself. To think. To consider....." I turn fully around and unlock the door, my hands shaking so bad that I need to use  both. "Tell the boys I love them." I say without looking back at him.

"Don't follow me." I whisper before barging out of the door. All four boys are crowded near the door, seeming to be waiting for us.

They all look towards me as the door opens, but I just walk straight past them without a word. They all try to talk to me, but I can't say anything, needing to just get out of this house.

Away from all the problems. Away from the man that I love, trusted. But he can't seem to give me any words to make me want to stay.

In the Office

I can't move. I can't think. She's gone, and she took my heart with her. Everything runs through my head over and over, but nothing will change what I did. Or what I didn't do.

When she closes the door behind her, I don't move. Not even when her footsteps fade down the hall and the front door slams shut behind her. I just stay at the desk, stay hunched over, and stare at the wood. The silence is worse without her in it.

I could still run after her. Tell her what really happened. That Talia drugged me and took advantage of my state. But I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can see the look she might give me afterwards.

I won't be able to handle telling her that I started remembering everything that happened, but I didn't do a thing to stop it. I couldn't do anything. But it just makes me feel worse.

I lean more forward and press the palm of my hands into my eyes, trying to regain my control. Trying to even out my breath. Slow, controlled, hollow. But the door swings open before I can get too far.

"Okay, what the hell is going on!" Jasons voice rings out as he walks in. "Did you cheat on Mum? You screwed around on her?"

"Just leave it alone, boy," I say, trying to stay calm, not lifting my head to look at him.

"She was crying, Bruce, crying over you. She never cries," Dicks desperate voice rings out next.

Without even looking up, I can image the two of them, standing in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring at me. At least I know she's protected if I won't be around anymore.

Tim's worried voice comes out next, the worry bleeding into his tone, "She said it was just adult stuff. But that wasnt just any fight."

"I said leave it!" I growl at them and look up to find Damian also in the room. Silent and brooding but watching me like he was trying to solve a riddle.

"No, you leave it!" Jason snaps, stepping closer to me. "You broke her! What the hell went down in here!"

"Get. Out. All of you." I snap at them, anger burning my eyes. That seems to freeze them all.

Jason steps back a little and Dick sighs. "Come on. He's not going to talk. Not now." He whispers, ushering them all out.

Tim hesitates as he looks me in the eyes to say, "She doesn't just leave, you know that. Not without a reason." Then he's gone. The door clicking shut behind him.

And for the first time in fifteen years I feel completely and utterly alone.

Hotel Somewhere, Few Days Later

The hotel room that I've checked into is alright. Somewhere that people won't look for me. But that didn't stop everyone from trying to contact me.

Over the past 2 days I've been getting texts and calls none stop. 26 missed calls and 43 messages. Most are from Tim and Dick, some are from Alfred and even one call from Jason. But none are from Bruce. However, the last one from Tim is what catches my eye.

Tim: Please mum, just let us know that you're safe. We don't need to know where you are. Just let us know you're ok. We're all worried.

I don't know what to do. I know that I should do something, but I can't get myself to move in order to call them.

If I tell them I'm ok, I'd be lying. Physically, I'm ok, but I still can't get over it. He hurt me. He brought a child into my home, one I've grown to love, only to find out that's he's his biological child. That he knew all along.

I finally go to call Tim when there's a sharp knock at the door. I tense as I wait. No one should know where I am. Another knock rings out. This one is more rapid.

I slowly get up from the bed and move to the door, looking through the peep-hole, as the door explodes into me. I scream on impact and try to cover myself as best I can.

Smoke fills the room as heavy steps echo in the small room. I groan as I push the door off me, looking up to see blurry figures advancing towards me.

I go to attack when I feel a sharp pain in my neck, something entering my bloodstream. My body goes numb as I sink to the ground, the world slowly going black as I notice a symbol on one of the figures' arms.

H.I.V.E.

Batcave, Hours Later

I haven't been sleeping. Every time I close my eyes, I see her heartbroken eyes. So I've been spending my time in the cave. Scanning throughevery CCTV traffic cams, just for a glimpse that she is ok.

Even with all of Gothm's data at my fingertips though, I can't find a single thing with her in it. But she's Batwoman. She knows how to stay in the shadows.

"She hasnt used her card. No GPS pings. There is no sign of her car. No one's seen or heard from her since she left." Alfred says from behind me.

"She's hiding from me." I say.

I feel Alfred step closer and watch him as he crosses his arms. "Or something has happened to her."

"She just needed some space, that's all." I explain, moving to another camera.

"You've had fights before Bruce. She never leaves like this. Or she at least tell me where she is going. Always answers the boys' texts." Alfred's voice hardens as he continues. "If this was anyone else missing, you'd already have every single person out in the field looking for them."

I sigh and fully look at him. "I know. But I don't know what to do."

He studies me for a second, this eyes softening a little. "Then go out and look for her." He says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I nod and finally get out of the chair, moving towards the Batmobile. "Bring up traffic cams feeds from hotels located near lower Gotham. Run facial recognition against every check-in desk. I'll start looking out there." I tell him, opening the door to the car.

Before we can get too far, Tim's voice crackles over the cams. "Bruce. I was investigating some chatter that I had been picking up from a H.I.V.E. operative that I was tracking. He was told that Mrs Wayne was delivered. I think they took mum."

I freeze for a minute, trying to let the words sink in. Then I snap, "I want every file that we have on H.I.V.E. pulled up. Now."

Underground Cell

I feel like I've been run over. My head is pounding, my mouth feels dry, and there's a soft ringing in my ear.

I try to move but my arm doesn't move. I shake and hear the distinct sound of metal hitting metal. 'Great. My hand is handcuffed to a chair.'

I open my eyes to see if I can work out where I might be but the room in bland. It's dark beside the light above me that is flashing slowly on and off. I scan the room to find a camera set up, pointing directly at me, a woman standing right next to it smiling.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says, slowly starting to work towards me. Her heels click on the concrete floor as she moves closer.

I look her over, and she looks like most other H.I.V.E. operatives. She's tall and blonde but holds herself upright, almost like she's a force to be reckond with. She continues to smile at me, but it's cold and scary. I wanna be anywhere but here.

"You're quite valuable,  you know?" She asks, wiping something off of my face. I try to move away from her, but she just grips my chin. "Not just as Bruce Wayne's wife, but as someone that Batman truly wants to protect."

"I won't help you," I snap at her, trying to get out of her grasp, but she's holding on tight.

"Oh honey," she whispers, moving in closer to my ear. "You already are. Just by existing he has a weaken."

She moves back and lifts the tablet for me to see. On the screen in a paused video of me and Bruce as Batman, kissing on a rooftop. A time we thought was completely alone.

"This connection? That's leverage. And leverage gets results." She smiles and leans in close to whisper, "You are gonna help me make him bleed."

Batcave, Few Days Later

"They still have her in Gotham," I explain to everyone as a pace in front of a large holoscreen. "The H.I.V.E. facility that's she's in is underground. Most likely located in the East End industrial sector."

Everyone is looking at me worried but still focused. "They moved fast," Tim speaks up from the computer. He hasn't been able to leave it since she was taken, and it's showing. "Scrambled cams as they drove. Disguised the entries. But I did find a residual trace of heat signatures near an abandoned meatpacking plant. There are old tunnels under it."

"Classic villain move. Take the one person he can't afford to use and bury her underground." Jason mutters, his hands balling into fists.

"Then we dig them out," Damian snaps.

Dick frowns suddenly and sits forward as he says, "We don't even know what they want. If they have already made contact..."

"They haven't," I cut in, looking over at him. "They won't until they think they've broken her."

The boys are all silent for a moment. Thinking what none of us want to accually say. What if it's already too late. Jason steps forward to say, "Then lets move before they even get the chance."

"I'll be going in first." I tell them, leaving them no room to argue back. "You four will flank. We come in from all angles, give them nowhere to escape. These places are like hornets nests. One wrong move, and we trigger a swarm."

Tim swipes through some blueprints and brings one up for us all to see. "The tunnels are unstable. But there is a ventilation shift around this area. It's a tight fit, but it will lead directly to where they might be holding mum." I look at the screen to see if there's something that we might have missed, but the plan is solid.

I look over at the boys as Tim whispers, "If they've hurt her.."

Damian buts in and snaps, "They won't get the chance to do it again."

Underground Cell

My heart hammers in my chest as I look around me again. They have a guard on the other side of the glass, but he always turns around after watching me for a while. The perfect amount of time to escape.

I feel the chair and finally pull off a price of metal to help with my escape.  But then I just wait. The guard looks at me before finally looking away.

I bend the metal in my hand and jam it into the lock. I move it around until I hear a soft click. One down, one to go.

I stay in that potion, not wanting to catch his attention before shoving the metal into the other lock. I struggle to get this one open, but just as I do, the door swings open.

The blonde walks through with two guards behind her. "Well, well. Aren't you clever one." Shs mocks at me.

Without a second thought, I lunge at her. But the guards are faster. I manage to hit one of them, but before I can turn to the other, he stabs a taser into my side.

Pain shots through my body, everything freezing up. I scream through the pain and drop to the floor when he steps away.

The blonde moves in front of me and grabs my chin to force me to look at her. "I was going to wait for your precious Dark Knight to show up before I did anything. But after this stunt?" Her smile turns from 'nice' to cruel in a moment. "I think we should speed things up."

She slaps me in the face and gets up, moving to the camera. The guard lifts me by the collar and faces me to the camera, the red light mocking me as it slowly blinks.

Part 2

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[smol-blue-bird]

Getting into Star Trek because I think it would be good for me, should I start with DS9 or TOS?

Honestly, I’d recommend starting with either TOS or TNG!

I love, love, love TOS, but it’s very much a product of its time, so you kind of have to go in prepared for hokey special effects and weird 60s morals (which isn’t to say it wasn’t progressive for its time—it very much was—but still. It was made 50+ years ago.) If you like old TV like The Twilight Zone, you’d probably like TOS a lot, but it’s not necessarily super representative of Star Trek in its entirety. But it is iconic for a reason, so I definitely recommend watching it at some point even if it’s not the first thing you see!

TNG is a little more modern (but still a product of the late 80s/early 90s, lol), and a lot of people view it as the definitive Star Trek show—it introduced loads of concepts and characters that are now considered staples of the franchise, and it references TOS sometimes, but it’s a good intro to Star Trek on its own. Its first season is kinda shaky (mostly because it used a lot of old scripts meant for TOS, and some of them didn’t fit the new characters/setting all that well), but it gets really, really good by like, season 3 at the latest, so you just kinda have to give it time. Both TNG and TOS have the classic, episodic, optimistic-space-exploration Star Trek vibes that I adore, so imo, you can’t you wrong starting with either of them. (Also, Strange New Worlds—the newest show, set a little before TOS in the timeline—is very similar in tone to them both, so if you like either TOS/TNG, you’d probably enjoy that one, too.)

Oh, and!! DS9 is fantastic, but I actually wouldn’t recommend starting it until you’ve seen TNG. It’s not a sequel to TNG or anything, but it does reference some characters and storylines from TNG, so it might be kind of confusing to watch without that context. And a huge part of its appeal is the way it deconstructs existing Star Trek concepts, so you kind of have to know those concepts before you can really appreciate their deconstruction, you know? Idk if that makes any sense, but anyway! My recommended viewing order would be TOS/TNG, then DS9, and SNW at some point if you like the episodic space exploration stuff and you want a 2024 version of that.

[cake-emu]

Thank you for your Swarla gifs! I hope you continue posting more of them :)

thank you!!!

and I will for sure! I'm just quite slow at making them so I'm not really able to post more than 1 or 2 sets per day, but I am determined to Do My Bit to help us get through this latest drought.

if you (or anyone reading this) has any requests, feel free to send me a message, anon or otherwise, and I will certainly see what I can do :)

[inkskinned]

it's easier to apply for jobs than ever! so what if you lost your insurance, anyone can get a job these days, even without meds. everyone is hiring! there's a "good employee" shortage!

well you just need to revamp your resume, here's a paid app subscription that can read it for you. rewrite the cover letter they won't read. google jobs in my area and then scrawl through Monster/Indeed/worbly. did you want to save the search? this was posted 98 days ago. over 1 billion applicants! this position is trending.

jobs i actively like doing and get paid for. your search returned no results. easy-apply with HireSpin! easy apply with SparkFire! easy apply with PenisFlash! with a few short clicks, get your information stolen.

watch out! the first 98 links on google are actually scams! they're false postings. oopsie. that business isn't even hiring. that other one is closed permanently. find one that looks halfway legit, google the company and the word "careers". go to their page. scroll past brightly-lit diversity stock photo JOIN US white sans serif. we are a unique, fresh, client-focused stock value capitalism. we are committed to excellence and selling your soul on ebay. we are DRIVEN with POWER to INNOVATE our greed. yippee! our company has big values of divisive decision making, sucking our dicks, and hating work-life balances. our values are to piss in your mouth. sign here and tell us if you have gender issues so we can get ahead of the sexual harassment claim. are you hispanic although let's be real we threw out the resume when we saw your last name.

sign up to LinkHub to access updates from this company. make a HirePlus account to apply. download the PoundLink app. your account has been created, click the link we sent you in 15 minutes. upload that resume. we didn't read the resume, manually fill in the lines now. what is your expected pay grade. oh actually we want hungry people, not people driven by a salary. cut a zero off that number, buddy, this is about opportunity, and we need to be thrifty. highest level of education. autofill is glitching. here is an AI generated set of questions. what is your favorite part of our sexy, sexy company. how do you resolve conflict. will you get our company logo tattooed on your person. warning: while our CEO is guilty of wage theft, we will absolutely refuse to hire a nonviolent felon.

thank you for your interest at WEEBLIX. we actually already filled this position internally. we actually never had that posting. we actually needed you to have 9 years of experience and since you have 10 years we think it might be too many? we'll be texting you. we'll email you. we'll keep your resume. definitely absolutely we won't just completely ignore you. look at your phone, there's already a spam text from Bethany@stealyouridentity. they're hiring!

wait, did you get an interview? well that's special, aren't you lucky. out of 910 jobs you applied to, one answered, finally. and funny story! actually the position isn't exactly as advertised, we are looking for someone curious and dedicated. it's sort of more managerial. no, the pay doesn't change - you won't have any leadership title. now take this 90 minute assessment. in order to be a dog groomer, we need you to explain cell biology. in order to be a copyeditor, write a tiny dissertation about the dwindling supply of helium on the planet. answer our riddles three. great job! we just need to push this up to Tracy in HR who will send it to Rodney who is actually in charge. and then of course it's jay's decision and then greg will need to see you naked and if you survive you'll be given a drug test and a full anal examination.

and of course you'll be hungry this whole time, aren't you, months and months of the same shit. months of no insurance, no meds, no funding, barely able to afford the internet and the phone and the rent - all things you need in order to even apply for our thing. but do it again! do it again and again and again, until you flip inside out and turn into a being of pure dread!

you're not hired yet because you're lazy. there's over one million AI-generated hallucinated jobs in your area. don't worry. with zipruiter, hiring and firing is easier than ever. sign up. stay on-call.

in the meantime, little peon - why don't you just fucking suffer.

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5

Summary: You and Tommy had been trying for a baby for years. When a trip to the gyno answers questions you didn’t even know to ask, your husband enlists the help of his one and only brother.

|| smut MDNI 18+, pinv, no outbreak, talk of infertility, not cheating but def not exactly kosher, baby makin', breeding kink, dirty talk, size kink, boundaries being crossed || notes: forgive me father for I have sinned. this is filthy. but also thinking about a part 2. kinda sorta maybe inspired by some crazy reddit stories. you'd be surprised how many there are like this LOL

You knew this was a crazy idea. Batshit crazy, actually. You were aware. But maybe, just maybe, if you spun it the right way, if you framed it with enough love and logic, it wouldn’t seem so absurd.

See, the thing is, you and Tommy had been trying for a baby for years. Trying and, well, failing. It wasn’t until your last visit to the OB-GYN that a simple question—"Has Tommy ever been tested?"—sent everything spiraling. A few weeks of waiting. A single piece of paper. An answer you never expected. It wasn’t you. It was him.

Not that you’d ever blame him. You loved him too much. But no matter how many old wives’ tricks you tried—holding your legs up after he emptied himself into you, orgasms before and after, cinnamon and honey in your morning tea—nothing could change the fact that no amount of effort would make it stick.

Which brings you to now. Sat at the kitchen table in your quaint, cozy home with Joel across from you, a few glasses of wine deep. His expression was somewhere between exhausted and mildly entertained from whatever dumb story Tommy had been telling. You’d needed a glass yourself, just to steady your nerves.

And then Tommy popped the question.

Joel blinked once. Twice. His mouth opened, then shut again, then opened just enough for a noise—somewhere between a scoff and an incredulous laugh—to escape. He shifted in his chair, pushing back just slightly, like he needed to physically distance himself from what he was hearing.

“You…” he started, then stopped. Shook his head. “You want me to—?”

He didn’t even finish the sentence. Just motioned vaguely, like the words were so ridiculous they refused to come out of his mouth.

Tommy sighed, his grip firm around your hand while the other wrapped around your shoulders. “Yeah.”

Joel exhaled sharply, eyes darting between the two of you, like maybe, just maybe, this was a joke. That you'd all start laughing and point at him with a big 'got ya!'. His lips parted slightly, his forehead creased.

“You’re serious.”

“We wouldn’t ask anyone else,” Tommy said, voice steady.

Joel let out a breathy laugh, hollow and disbelieving. He dragged a hand down his face before pressing his palms against the table, fingers splaying out like he needed to brace himself.

“This ain’t a normal conversation to be havin’ over dinner, Tommy.”

“We know.”

“Do you?” Joel snapped, finally looking at his brother again, his voice sharper now. “Because I gotta tell ya, it really don’t seem like you do.”

“This ain’t easy for either of us,” Tommy said, his voice steady despite the tension winding between the three of you. “But we wouldn’t ask anyone else. We want to keep it in the family, so…the baby would still be related to me.”

Joel’s jaw tensed. His fingers gripped the stem of his wine glass like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 

He looked over in your direction, but not directly at you, just at the table. At your hand in Tommy’s.

“And you’re…okay with this?” His voice was different now. Lower. Measured, like he was afraid of the answer.

You nodded. “We’ve talked about it. A lot. Ever since the results came back, we’ve been weighing options, and this—” You hesitated, swallowing, trying to gauge if he was even absorbing a single word. “It makes the most sense. More than adopting. More than a stranger. It keeps things in the family.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his ears tinged pink. He still wasn’t looking at you.

Not until you said his name. Soft. Careful.

His eyes flicked to yours, just for a second. Just long enough for you to see everything—the disbelief, the sheer what the fuck of it all—before he dropped his gaze again, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to decide now,” you said gently, exhaling softly. “Just… take some time to think about it.”

Joel didn’t respond.

A few minutes later, he left—no joke, no small talk of the next Sunday night football game could cut through the weight pressing down on the room. Just a stiff nod, a muttered see ya, and the quiet sound of the door closing behind him.

The following Sunday, it almost felt like the conversation had never happened.

The three of you sat at the sports bar, watching the Cowboys play on the massive screens, the air thick with the scent of beer and fried food. Tommy was his usual self, shouting at the refs, leaning into Joel’s shoulder every time the score tipped in their favor. Joel, on the other hand, was harder to read. He was relaxed enough, beer in hand, his usual dry remarks slipping out here and there, but there was something quieter beneath it all—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Not one mention of a baby. Not a single word about what you’d asked of him.

And maybe that was his answer.

When your husband got up, throwing out the excuse of takin’ a leak, the energy between you and Joel shifted. Not in a way you could name—just… thicker. More noticeable.

He sat a seat away, the empty barstool between you like a buffer neither of you had the nerve to close.

You tried to let it roll off your shoulders, but as you sat there, your mind wandered. What if Joel had said yes? What if it worked? Would the baby have his dark eyes, that heavy, thoughtful brow? Would they get that serious little crease between their eyes when they were thinking? His thick hair, his strong hands?

Tommy would still be their father. That was what mattered. That was the whole point. But the idea of seeing traces of Joel—subtle things, the shape of a nose, the curve of a smile…

The thought sent a strange, unfamiliar feeling curling in your chest.

It hurt, his lack of an answer, of course it did. But how could you blame him? You were asking for too much. Asking him to do something unnatural, something messy, something that could never be as clean and logical as you and Tommy had tried to convince yourselves it was.

You swallowed, setting your drink down as the silence stretched. “Listen, Joel—”

“I’ll do it.”

It was quiet. Like he wasn’t sure if he meant to say it out loud.

Your breath caught, as you stared at him, mouth agape. The side of his face gave nothing away as he kept his eyes on the TV as you waited for some kind of smirk, some sign that he was messing with you.

But he wasn’t.

Joel kept his eyes averted, like this was the kind of thing a person could say without looking someone in the eye. He took a long drink from his bottle, then set it down with a dull thud.

“You and Tommy deserve this,” he murmured, rolling the glass between his palms as he stared down at it. “To have a kid.”

Your heart constricted at the sincerity in his voice.

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “My life is better ‘cause of Sarah. Don’t think I ever told Tommy that outright, but… it is. I’d love to see him get to have that too.”

You blinked. “Are you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “You serious?”

Joel turned to you finally, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since last week before you dropped the bomb on him, “Yeah.” he said finally, “Yeah, I’m serious.”

He was clearly uncomfortable, clearly still working through it—but the fact that he said it at all, that he meant it... that was more than you expected.

To be honest, you knew the baster idea wouldn’t work.

Not that you’d ever say it out loud. Not to your very loving, very kind, very hopeful husband. But deep down, you were pretty sure that by the time Joel had taken care of himself, transferred it into a container, driven it over, and you’d sat back on the bed with your legs up, whatever needed to be alive in there was long dead.

You didn’t bring it up. Couldn’t. Not when Tommy was trying so hard to make this work.

Across from you in the kitchen one morning, another negative pregnancy test sitting between you, your husband sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw before reaching for his mug, “If I ask you somethin’,” he murmured, voice low, hesitant, “will you tell me the truth?”

Your eyes flicked up to his. “Of course, baby.”

His hand rested on the granite, fingers close enough that you reached out, tracing them lightly with your own. His eyes drifted down to your delicate touch against him.

Then, he exhaled slowly and cleared his throat.

“Do you think we should try…” His fingers twitched under yours. “Ya know. The old-fashioned way?”

For a second, the words didn’t land.

Not until you saw the way his eyes found yours and he was looking at you—serious, thoughtful, like he’d been turning it over in his head for longer than he wanted to admit.

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Tommy sighed, pressing his lips together before setting his coffee down. “I just think… for it to stick properly, we might need to try somethin’ more… natural.”

Your mind reeled. Heat crept up your neck, flushing your skin before you could stop it.

The idea of being with another man…

Tommy saw it. The way your lips parted, the way your breath caught just slightly.

He stepped closer, smoothing his hands over your cheeks, tilting your face up toward his.

“Only if you were comfortable with it,” he assured, voice gentle, steady. “I’d never ask you to do somethin’ you didn’t wanna do.”

You swallowed hard, still trying to process. “I—I don’t know, Tommy.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “And Joel would flip out if we asked that of him.”

Tommy hummed, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “Yeah, he might.”

Might was an understatement.

Joel was over the following day to help with your bathroom remodel, a project the brothers had taken on during the slow season. You were busy finishing whatever odds and ends you needed to get done upstairs when you heard his voice traveling through the house.

Not just his voice—but the volume of it.

“Are you outta your goddamn mind?!”

The sound rattled through the house, shaking the walls as you hovered at the top of the stairs, heart pounding.

“Joel—” Tommy’s voice, calm but firm.

“No. No, you don’t get to ‘Joel’ me right now, Tommy, because what you just said—what you just— Christ.” There was the distinct sound of something slamming—a fist on the table? A chair shoved back? You weren’t sure, but it made you wince.

“Look, man, I knew you’d be pissed,” Tommy started, only to be cut off immediately.

“Oh, did you?” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “You knew I’d be pissed, but you went ahead and asked anyway? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I’m already crossin’ so many lines with what we’re doin’, and now you’re askin’ me to…to—!?”

You could picture it perfectly—Joel pacing the length of the room, one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair, winding up, because when Joel was really mad, he didn’t just stand there.

“You’re makin’ it a bigger deal than it is,” Tommy tried, tone even.

Joel let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I misunderstand the part where you just asked me to fuck your wife?”

Heat crawled up your neck.

“We ain’t askin’ that, Jesus, Joel, don’t talk about her like—”

“You are absolutely askin’ that.”

“It’s not like that.”

“The hell it ain’t!”

Silence. Heavy, tense.

You swallowed hard, gripping the banister, unsure whether to go down there or stay put.

Then—Joel’s voice, lower now, but still laced with disbelief.

“Tell me you didn’t really think I’d say yes to this.”

And Tommy, just as steady as ever:

“I think you wanna say no.” A pause, and you could almost feel the shift in the air between them. “But deep down? I think you’re already considerin’ it.”

Joel let out a slow, sharp exhale, but he didn’t argue.

And a week later, he was back at your doorstep.

There were three rules.

1. No kissing.

That was the hard line, the non-negotiable. Kissing was too intimate— too personal, too close to something else entirely. You could rationalize everything else, strip it down to the mechanics of what needed to happen, but kissing blurred the lines. That made it mean something. And this couldn’t mean anything.

2. No talking about it outside the bedroom. 

No slipping up over dinner, no awkward mentions in passing, no weird jokes over a few beers. It had to stay contained. A thing that only existed in a room with the door closed and the world shut out. Because once it bled into the rest of your life—once it became something you acknowledged beyond those four walls—it would become real.

3. No names

No whispered Joel in the dark, he couldn’t say yours while he was inside you. Names had weight. Names had meaning. And the second you said them, it stopped being about a baby.

So when your ovulation window came within the next few days, you found yourself in your bedroom with the two brothers. When Tommy excused himself from the room—pressing a kiss to your forehead before heading out to meet his buddies at the bar like this wasn’t the weirdest fucking thing in the world— you turned to Joel

Over the years, you’d come to know him, grown comfortable with him. That familiarity should’ve helped, should’ve made this easier. But sitting here now, alone in the bedroom with him, awkward was an understatement.

Joel sighed, rubbing his forefinger and thumb along his brows as he stood at the edge of the bed. “Guess we better get to it, then.”

You nodded numbly, tucking your legs beneath you on the bedspread, looking up at him.

He was already tense, broad shoulders squared, avoiding your gaze like you weren’t even in the damn room. He exhaled sharply, then—without ceremony—unbuckled his belt. The clink of metal sent a strange ripple through your stomach, but you forced yourself to focus, watching as he shucked his jeans down to his thighs, taking his boxers with them.

Your breath caught.

Even soft as he was at the moment, he was bigger than Tommy. Thicker.

Joel cleared his throat, shifting his stance, one hand bracing against the bedpost while the other wrapped around himself. He wasn’t looking at you. Not even close. His gaze stayed fixed somewhere off to the side, jaw locked, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he started moving his hand.

It wasn’t working.

Minutes passed, the air between you thick and suffocating, but he remained… soft. The tension in his face deepened, brows knitting, his motions growing stilted.

You chewed your lip, watching as his frustration mounted.

“You don’t gotta sit there starin’ at me,” he muttered, voice gruff, like this was somehow your fault.

You exhaled through your nose. “I’m just… tryin’ to think how I can help.”

His hand stilled. “You’re fine. Just–just give me a minute,”

Then suddenly as the idea struck, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it up.

Joel’s head snapped toward you, eyes going wide. “What’re you doin’?” His voice was sharp, edged in something that sounded suspiciously close to panic.

You hesitated. “Just… thought maybe it’d help.”

“Well, don’t.” His ears were red. “Keep your damn clothes on.”

You huffed. “Jesus, it’s just a shirt.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but let it go, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

Another beat of silence, only the sound of skin on skin filling the air as he fisted himself.

“Can I help?”

His gaze flicked to yours, skeptical. “Help how?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. What do you like?”

Joel tensed. “…The hell kinda question is that?”

“A valid one,” you shot back, tilting your head. “C’mon, there’s gotta be somethin’. What do you like?”

He hesitated, shifting where he stood, uncomfortable. You rattled off a few suggestions, some kinks you’d heard of. He barely reacted.

Then finally, one seemed to slap him upside the head, “Do you like dirty talk?”

His entire body stilled.

His eyes finally, finally found yours.

Bingo.

A slow pulse of heat curled low in your stomach.

You leaned forward slightly, voice softer now. “What kind of things do you say?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at you, the tension in his jaw loosening, his pupils starting to widen.

“Come on, Joel,” you said, then immediately pressed your lips together, realizing you’d already broken one of your own rules—not even five minutes in.

“Sorry—” You exhaled, shaking your head. “But c’mon, do you want me to talk to you? Or what do you usually say to women?”

Joel’s eyes were suddenly burning into you, his chest rising and falling just a little heavier now. He exhaled sharply, remembering himself as his gaze flickered around the room like he wasn’t sure where to land it, like maybe if he didn’t look at you, this would stay clinical—mechanical.

“I uh…” He wet his lips, voice rough. “Usually will tell ‘em they’re bein’ real good for me,” he said, exhaling through his teeth. “Bein’ a good girl.”

The temperature of the room shifted, the air growing heavy, pressing down on you. A slow, pooling ache pulsed low in your belly. His nostrils flared as his eyes found yours again, like maybe he could see exactly what that did to you.

You swallowed, “What else?”

Joel’s hips twitched. He hesitated, his grip flexing around himself, fingers curling just slightly. You caught the bob of his throat, the faint shift of his stance. He was getting there.

His gaze dropped to your mouth. “Tell ‘em how pretty they look on their knees.” His voice had taken on a new weight—thicker, heavier, his drawl rolling low in his throat. “How sweet they sound when they moan for me. How bad I wanna feel ‘em wrapped around me, drippin’ and ready, beggin’ for more.”

The room contracted, the air impossibly tight, each breath harder to pull in. Your skin felt hot, your lips parting as you fought to keep your breathing steady. And you knew—knew—your pupils were wide, knew your face was flushed.

Because his was too.

His eyes had darkened, locked on yours, heat simmering beneath the surface. You inhaled deeply, the air between you charged, electric. You reached out, fingers grazing along his forearm. He tensed, muscles flexing beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“You wanna take this off?” you murmured, voice quiet but sure, fingers tracing up toward the sleeve of his shirt.

Joel let out a slow breath, something flickering behind his eyes—hesitation, uncertainty—but then, after a beat, he reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor.

Your gaze raked over him.

Christ. He was the epitome of masculinity—broad and solid, built like something carved from rough earth, from long years of labor and hardship. His chest was strong, lined with thick, dark hair that tapered down his stomach in a steady trail, leading lower—disappearing into the patch just above where he was hardening in his hand. 

Your mouth was dry, your pulse a slow, deliberate thrum in your veins.

You lifted your hands to the hem of your own shirt, pausing just slightly. He hadn’t looked away.

“Okay?” you asked softly.

His jaw flexed, gaze dark, unreadable—but after a second, he nodded.

You pulled it over your head, the fabric slipping away, baring more skin than you’d ever thought he’d see.

Joel exhaled sharply, his eyes dragging down your body, heavy and slow, his pupils swallowing the color of his eyes. Your nipples pebbled in the open air, a shiver running through you as his gaze settled there, his breath hitching just slightly.

You reached for him again, fingers trailing along the hard lines of his chest, dipping over the planes of his stomach. He was warm beneath your touch and he smelled like pine and musk and something richer, something leathered and sun-baked—something distinctly Joel.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “O—okay,” he exhaled, voice rough. “I think I’m… good,” he added shakily, and you could see his body finally catching up to the filth rolling off his tongue, the thick weight of him fully hard now. You swallowed dryly at the sheer size of him in his palm.

Standing slowly, your hands dropped from his body, but your eyes never left his as you slid your pants down your hips and let them pool at your feet.

Bare. You were both bare.

Your gaze dragged over him, from the broad stretch of his shoulders down to his stomach, the solid cut of his thighs, his cock standing thick and heavy between you. It was the most you’d ever seen of him. The most he’d ever seen of you.

And he was beautiful.

Joel swallowed hard, his jaw tight as his gaze traveled over every inch of you. Then, wordlessly, you laid back down on the bedspread, opening your legs for him.

He cursed under his breath.

You caught the way his throat bobbed, the way his fingers twitched at his sides before he climbed onto the bed after you, settling between your legs. His eyes darted down, locked onto the wetness pooling between your thighs, and his nostrils flared.

“All this from just a few sweet words, huh?” His voice was lower now, edged with something amused but dark, something he hadn’t meant to let slip through.

He shifted forward, but you stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, suddenly shy. “It’s said that women are more likely to get pregnant if, um… if they orgasm during or… or before, I think.”

Joel stilled for half a second before a slow smirk pulled at his lips. “You doubt me so much?”

The teasing edge in his voice—the cockiness—made some of the tension in your chest loosen. You let out a breathless laugh, your body unwinding slightly from the tension earlier. “I just… I’ve never…”

Something shifted in his face. The smirk faltered just a little. “You’re sayin’ my baby brother doesn’t take care of his own wife?”

“No!” you said quickly, your hand flexing against his chest defensively. “He does, it’s just… I can’t finish just from penetration. Most women can’t, actually.”

“I know, darlin’.”

You gasped as the thick head of his cock suddenly swiped through your slick arousal, and he hissed, pressing his other hand into the pillow beside your head as he leaned over you.

“Fuck—”

His voice was rough, gravelly, wrecked, and something about it made your thighs squeeze around his waist, made the heat coil even tighter in your belly.

Joel lingered there, his cock sliding through your slick, slow and deliberate, teasing against your swollen clit with every pass. The thick head caught at your entrance, nudging just slightly, and a gasp broke from your lips before you could swallow it down.

His jaw ticked, fingers flexing in the pillow beside your head, his body wound tight like a spring.

“This okay?” he asked, voice rough, strained.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yes.”

He pressed forward, just an inch, just enough for you to feel the blunt stretch of him, and your breath hitched.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. “So damn wet.”

Heat flooded your face, but you couldn’t think—couldn’t focus on anything other than how thick he was, how different he was from Tommy. You felt like you were being split in two, but you wanted more. Every inch only made that need, that hunger, grow.

His hand lifted from his cock, skimming over your hip before settling on your thigh, holding you open.

“Gotta take it slow,” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You swallowed hard, fingers curling into the sheets beside you. “I can take it.”

His head dropped for a second, a quiet curse slipping past his lips. “Don’t say shit like that, sweetheart.”

Something about that word, the way it left his mouth—low and full of something dangerous—made your stomach clench.

The stretch was slow, unbearable in the best way as he pushed forward even more, your body giving inch by inch, and you let out a sharp exhale as he filled you.

Joel groaned, deep and low, his fingers tightening on your thigh as he finally buried himself to the hilt.

Jesus Christ.

The weight of him inside you, the way he fit—it was overwhelming, taking up every inch of space, leaving you panting beneath him.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his hips flush with yours now, his jaw tight. “You’re—shit, you’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

Your thighs trembled around his waist, your body working to adjust to the fullness, to the sheer size of him, and then—oh god—then he moved.

A slow pull out, a deep thrust back in.

You moaned, head falling back against the pillows, fingers flexing against the sheets.

Joel’s breath was ragged, his grip tightening. “That’s it.”

As he began to set a steady pace, a deep thrust in, a gentle pull out, the tingling sensation you knew all too well was rising fast—too fast. It climbed up your spine, coiling tight, and your breath hitched in your throat. The sensation was familiar, so familiar, but not like this. Not from this.

Joel moved with deep, deliberate thrusts, each one stretching you full, dragging against every oversensitive nerve inside you with agonizing precision. His cock was thick, heavy, unrelenting—pressing deep, pressing right, pleasure licking up your spine like fire.

His hand moved between you, thumb finding your clit with ease, the calloused pad brushing over the swollen bundle of nerves, a touch just firm enough to make you jolt. Your whole body reacted, thighs trembling, an involuntary gasp ripping from your lips.

His breath hitched as he felt it too, and he let out a dark, pleased hum.

“Feel that?” he murmured, his voice a slow, deliberate drag against your skin. His thumb moved again, slick and sure, working tight little circles against you. “Now, what was it you said again?”

Your chest heaved, your fingers gripping at the sheets, at him, anything to keep yourself tethered, because the pleasure was coming in hot, hard waves now—building, climbing, making your skin flush and prickle with heat.

“I—I never—” You gasped, voice breaking, lips parting as your back arched into the feeling, as you felt your muscles tighten and clench under him.

Joel leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “C’mon, sweet girl. Use your words.”

Your hips met every thrust, dragging a moan from deep in your chest.

“I’ve never—ah!—never come like this before,” you choked out, breathless and desperate.

Joel swore under his breath.

“You’re tellin’ me,” he rasped, voice dripping in absolute filth and sin, “my pissy little brother never made you come on his cock before?”

The shame of it—the filthy, shameless truth of it—slammed into you just as hard as the pleasure. Your breath came in short, stilted gasps, your thighs twitching, heat curling low and tight, twisting like a wire pulled too taut. You gripped his biceps hard where they caged you in, your nails digging into his skin.

“I–”

“Never felt the way you’re squeezin’ the life outta me right now, baby?” His voice dipped lower, rougher, as his thumb pressed, rubbing slow and tight. “Never had you like this? Drippin’ and desperate? Makin’ the prettiest fuckin’ sounds I’ve ever heard?”

Heat flared in your belly, your legs shaking around him, pleasure tearing through you.

Joel felt it, the way you clenched down around him, and he grinned, breath hot against your mouth as he groaned through his teeth.

“Fuck—that’s it. Let me feel you.”

And you did.

Your body suddenly snapped. The orgasm slammed into you, white-hot and merciless, every nerve in your body firing at once, blinding you with pleasure so intense it was nearly unbearable. Your breath punched from your lungs as your back arched clean off the bed, thighs trembling, a cry tearing from your lips as waves of heat crashed through you.

Joel swore under his breath, hips stuttering as you clenched tight around him, and his mouth hovered just above yours, his breath mixing with yours, the air between you thick and electric.

He felt the way your body fluttered around him, still pulsing with the comedown of your orgasm, dragging him deeper, tighter—trapping him. His breath was heavy, coming in sharp, ragged exhales as he dropped his head, his forehead resting against yours.

His hips kept moving quick and uneven, dragging his cock in and out of your still-clenching walls. He was throbbing, thick and hot inside you, every roll of his hips sending sharp little sparks of overstimulation through your system.

That was when, after coming back to earth, you saw the way his lips parted slightly, his breath hitching whenever you squeezed around him just right. The tension in his face, the way his muscles coiled and flexed with every deliberate movement.

He was close.

You wondered…

Your breath was still shaky, voice unsteady, but you let it slip out, slow and sultry, testing the waters, “You feel so good,” you whispered.

Joel froze for a split second, a sharp breath punching from his lungs as he reeled his head back to look down at you.

"Does it feel good for you?” you whispered, your fingers trailing up the nape of his neck. “Filling me up? Making me feel so full? So good?”

Joel let out a ragged, wrecked sound, his fingers digging into your skin, gripping you like a lifeline.

And in that moment—fuck the rules.

Because this was anything but clinical now.

You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, letting your breath fan against his ear as you whispered, gentle, teasing.

“You gonna give me a baby, Joel?”

Joel let out a wrecked groan, his grip on your hips tightening, his pace faltering. His thrusts turned rougher, sharper, his body moving on pure instinct now—chasing it.

And then he snapped.

A strangled moan ripped from his throat as he slammed deep, burying himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside you as heat flooded you. His whole body shook, a ragged, guttural sound tearing from his chest as he came, thick and hot, spilling deep, his fingers flexing against your hips like he was trying to ground himself.

You gasped at the feeling, at the warmth spreading inside you, at the way his body shook above you.

Joel was panting, forehead pressed to yours, sweat damp at his hairline, his breath fanning against your lips, warm and unsteady.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Joel was still inside you, still filling you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, grounding you. His breath was heavy, warm against your cheek as he turned his head, his chest rising and falling against yours in slow, uneven waves.

“I should, uh…” His voice was hoarse, thick with something he wasn’t naming. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he sat up. “I should probably—”

You shifted slightly beneath him, still sensitive, still pulsing with the warmth of him inside you. Your thighs trembled, the ache delicious, spreading through you like slow heat.

“You can go,” you murmured, voice soft, a little sleepy. “I’m gonna stay here for a while.”

He hesitated as he looked down at you, your bodies still connected. 

You blinked up at him, lips curving in a lazy, satisfied smile.

“It’s said that if a woman stays lying down after, it increases the chances of conception.” You hummed, stretching slightly, body still warm and loose. “Just want to give it time to stick.”

You felt him twitch inside you, like his body had just caught up to the meaning of your words, and then he was pulling out, hissing under his breath as he eased away from you.

His heat vanished instantly, and a shiver ran through you at the sudden emptiness, the cool air replacing where he’d been pressed so solidly against you. You exhaled, tugging the covers up over yourself, shifting deeper into the mattress, letting your body sink into the afterglow.

Joel, on the other hand, was already moving, and fast.

He turned away from the bed, running a hand through his hair, reaching for his jeans like he needed them back on, needed the barrier, needed to be done with this.

“Hey,” you called softly as he stepped toward the door, one leg shoved into his pants.

He paused, turning slightly, just enough to look at you over his shoulder.

You blinked up at him sleepily, the blankets pulled up to your bare shoulders, your voice softer now. “You okay?”

Joel hesitated. Just for a second.

His hands hovered at his belt, his fingers twitching. His lips pressed together, like he was weighing his answer, like he didn’t trust whatever was sitting heavy on his tongue.

Then, he gave you a short, stiff nod. “Yeah. ‘M good.”

You hummed, unconvinced, watching the way his chest still rose and fell in uneven breaths, the lingering flush at his throat, the tension in his hands as he buckled his belt like he was fighting something.

“Okay,” you murmured, turning your head into the pillow, eyes half-lidded, “And, Joel?”

His gaze flickered back to you, hovering, like he was bracing himself.

You swallowed, shifting slightly under the blankets, warmth settling deep in your bones. “Thank you.”

Joel’s fingers twitched where they grabbed for his shirt, his throat working around something thick, something stuck. His eyes dragged over you one last time, heavy, unreadable, before he gave a single, curt nod.

“I’ll see you,” he muttered, voice rough, almost hesitant.

Then he turned, and with the sound of the door clicking shut behind him, he was gone.

[eyepatchdate]

how long do you think it took before dean was like. 'am i.... not aging anymore?'

[whosashan]

Hello! I love your writing! I was wondering.. would it be possible to request a sequel to Bitter for all the guys? The angst really got me good, but an end Where they see the Reader move on, whether it be with another LI or another person. Those sorts of fics soothe the angst for me even if they don’t end up together again.

Sour

Pt.1

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: A year has slipped through your fingers like sand, carrying away the sharp edges of bitterness— or so you thought. Yet, the past has a cruel way of resurfacing, and when you stand before your former lover once more, the question lingers: has time truly softened the wound, or does resentment still simmer beneath your skin?

A/N: A lot of you guys asked for a sequel, and I must say - I'm so greatful for all of your support. It feels unreal, knowing that so many people enjoy my writing and get engaged in it. I tried to include every suggestion you gave me in some way. It ended up quite long, because I wanted to make sure they suffer. I really hope it's up to your liking, enjoy!

Xavier

A year had passed—one carved from sorrow, stitched with bitterness. Betrayal, mistrust, insecurities—every fracture in your heart laid bare, every ugly truth dragged into the light.

And yet, in some quiet, inexplicable way, you were grateful.

Grateful for the clarity, for the stripping away of illusions, for the lesson that love—no matter how fervent—could not thrive on longing alone. You had spent so much time searching for a deeper meaning, convincing yourself there had to be one. But sometimes, the truth was simple. Painfully, mercilessly simple.

He hadn’t chosen you.

There had been texts, calls, attempts at conversation. Words typed and deleted, ringing phones you never answered. You knew his tactics too well—the pleading eyes, the soft-spoken apologies, the way he’d paint his regret with honeyed words. But you had learned. This time, you refused to fall.

And so, the city became a vast and empty place, void of Xavier’s shadow. No accidental encounters, no glimpses of golden hair in a crowded street. It was as if the universe had granted you mercy, shielding you from the ghost of what could have been.

And with time, bitter turned to sour. Sour softened into something gentler, something warm. Until one day, you woke up and found yourself unburdened.

You were thriving.

A promotion at work. New friends. Doors opening where once there had only been walls. It was almost absurd, how small your world had been, how much of yourself you had given away for the sake of love that was never truly yours.

Because in the end, one heartbreak wasn’t the end of the world.

And when you finally let yourself step forward, the idea of meeting someone new no longer felt like a betrayal of your past self. It was slow at first—hesitant, uncertain—but why should someone else pay the price for wounds they never inflicted?

You were seeing someone. The phrase alone felt foreign on your tongue, strange in your mind. But it was real. It was different. No silent doubts, no waiting for the inevitable unraveling. Just laughter. Just affection. Just love, in the simplest, most effortless form.

You were distracted by happiness.

And maybe that was why fate decided to test you.

The bell above the café door chimed, a familiar sound that had never meant anything—until now. Until the moment you met a gaze you once knew better than your own.

Blue. Icy, calculating, flickering with disbelief.

Xavier.

He looked different. Sharper somehow, but worn. Dark circles framed those piercing eyes, his golden hair a little unkempt, a crease forming between his brows. There was no laughter in his expression, no easy charm. Just silence—thick, heavy, laced with something you couldn’t name.

Like he was seeing a ghost.

Like, after all this time, he still wasn’t sure if you were real.

He stood from his table, slow and careful, as if you might vanish if he moved too quickly. You straightened your posture, steeling yourself.

"Y/N..."

Your name left his lips like a prayer. Soft. Tentative. As if he didn’t deserve to say it.

And maybe he didn’t.

Still, you had promised yourself you’d be better than bitterness. That you wouldn’t let the past sink its claws into you.

So you smiled. Small, polite, but distant. "Xavier. Long time no see."

Something flickered in his expression, fleeting but unmistakable. Hurt.

"Yeah," he echoed, glancing down for a moment, hands curling into fists before he exhaled, gathering himself. "Long time no see."

A pause. A heavy, unspoken weight settling between you.

And then—"Would you sit with me?" His voice was quieter now, more hesitant. "Just for a little while? I won’t... I won’t nag you, I swear." A ghost of a smile barely touched his lips.

For a moment, you considered.

Curiosity stirred—how had he been? How had life treated him? And yet, you knew better. You had spent too long craving answers that would never change the past. The Xavier who stood before you was not yours to worry about. Not anymore.

So you inhaled slowly, steadying your heart, and said simply, "I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about."

Blunt. Honest. Kind, but final.

And for once, you didn’t feel guilty for choosing yourself.

The bell rang again, the door swinging open, and warmth enveloped you as familiar arms wrapped around your waist, a kiss pressed to your cheek.

"Love," a voice murmured, teasing and light. "You always make me chase after you." They laughed, and you did too, the sound effortless.

Your partner turned, glancing at Xavier with mild curiosity. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing at all," you assured, slipping your fingers into theirs, warmth meeting warmth. "Let’s go."

And as you walked away, hand in hand with the person who had mended what Xavier broke, you didn’t look back.

But he did.

Xavier stood frozen, watching as you disappeared into the city, just as he had let you slip through his fingers once before.

And this time, there was no note left behind. No final words.

Only silence.

And the weight of a mistake he could never undo.

...

But it seemed fate was not yet finished with him. Seeing you again was a wound torn open, an ache that refused to fade. Xavier realized, with the kind of clarity that arrives too late, that he couldn’t let you go.

Not without trying.

And it didn’t matter that you belonged to someone else now—desperation made a man reckless. He would settle for anything. A glance, a word, a sigh in his direction. Proof that he had not become a ghost in your memory.

So he searched. Called. Texted. Every message fell into silence, his words lost to the void. He wandered through the places you once loved, only to find them hollow, emptied of your presence. It was as if you had evaporated, leaving no trace behind.

But then—when he finally found you, sitting on a weathered park bench beneath the fading gold of an autumn sky—his breath hitched. You looked different. Not just in the way time shapes a person, but in the way peace does. It softened you, made you untouchable.

He hesitated. He didn’t want to startle you, didn’t want to seem like a desperate man chasing shadows. But wasn’t that exactly what he was? Obsessed, haunted, unraveling beneath the weight of his own mistakes.

And then you looked at him.

His heart stuttered. Your eyes—once a universe he had called home—held no welcome for him now. There was recognition, yes. But it was distant, indifferent. A ghost of a smile graced your lips, polite but hollow, and something inside him withered.

"I need to talk to you," he rasped, his voice raw from all the words he had never said.

You tilted your head, considering him in that quiet, unreadable way. Then, with a small sigh, you gestured to the empty space beside you. An invitation—not of warmth, but of duty. Perhaps you felt he deserved the clarity he had never given you.

He sat, feeling like a man standing at the edge of a cliff.

"I have no right to ask for forgiveness," he confessed, staring down at his hands as if the answers were etched into his skin. "I know that. But I feel... lost. Lost without you guiding me."

There was silence, heavy as the twilight creeping in around you. And then—

"What’s done is done." Your voice was steady, like the final toll of a bell. "You’re right—some things can’t be forgiven. And actions have consequences. I’ve moved on, Xavier. And you should, too. That’s the only clarity I can give you."

Your words struck like a blade, precise and inescapable. He had braced himself for anger, for screams, for the fury he knew he deserved. But instead, you looked at him with nothing but pity.

And that—God, that was worse.

"Y/N, please," he choked out, his resolve crumbling. "Just give me a chance. I’ll do anything. Anything."

He fell to his knees before you, the weight of his regret pressing him into the earth. Once, he had stood tall beside you. Now, he knelt at your feet, pleading for the remnants of something he had destroyed with his own hands.

You blinked, surprise flickering across your face before you exhaled softly. "I’m happily taken…" The words were gentle, but firm. And then, the final blow—"Engaged, actually."

You lifted your hand, and in the dimming light, the diamond on your finger gleamed like the last star in a dying sky.

Xavier’s breath left him in a ragged gasp. No. No, this couldn’t be real.

"Please—" He reached for you, his hands trembling, his world tilting beneath him. "I can’t do this without you."

You smiled then, and for the first time that evening, it was real. Soft, kind, but completely out of reach.

"I’m afraid that’s none of my business anymore."

You rose to your feet, turning away from him, your figure bathed in the golden light of a world that no longer had room for him. He watched, helpless, as you walked away—each step sealing his fate, each breath pulling you further from his grasp.

And when you disappeared beyond the trees, he realized the cruelest truth of all.

Some mistakes don’t come with second chances.

Zayne

A year.

A year since you had stood in the ruins of what you once called love, waiting for something—anything—to make sense. Since the walls of your world had collapsed beneath the weight of neglect, since the name Dr. Zayne had burned like acid on your tongue.

And yet, look at you now.

Thriving.

You had carved out a life that was entirely your own, no longer bending yourself into smaller, more convenient shapes to fit into someone else’s world. Your career—once just a dream, a hesitant whisper in the back of your mind—had become your reality, a space where your talents were not only recognized but celebrated. Your relationships flourished, no longer strained by the quiet loneliness of waiting for a man who always seemed just out of reach.

The girl who once sat by the phone, heart aching for a call that never came, was gone.

And yet, the ghosts of Zayne still lingered.

The recipe he once taught you? You still loved it, the taste laced with a bittersweet nostalgia. The song he always played while driving? Occasionally, you let it slip through your speakers, if only to remind yourself how far you had come. The pain of his absence had dulled into something quieter—no longer a gaping wound, but a faded scar.

You had learned to appreciate what his neglect had taught you.

Because he had shown you exactly what love wasn’t.

And now, you knew better.

...

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening.

Your partner—warm, steady, everything you had once begged for—had suffered a minor accident. Nothing dire, but enough to warrant a hospital visit, just to be sure. And so you stood there, waiting near the reception desk, arms crossed over your chest, glancing at the fluorescent glow of the overhead lights. The air smelled of antiseptic and sterile linens, the faint beeping of monitors a rhythmic pulse in the background.

And then—

You felt it before you saw it.

A gaze. Heavy. Familiar.

You turned.

And there he was.

Dr. Zayne.

For a moment, the world seemed to shrink, narrowing down to the space between you and him. He looked... different. Or maybe it was you who had changed. His sharp, professional composure remained, but there was something wearier about him now. The pristine white coat did little to hide the exhaustion beneath his eyes, the slight furrow of his brows, the way he adjusted his glasses in that meticulous way of his.

And yet, despite it all—he was still devastatingly familiar.

"Y/N?"

Your name fell from his lips like a habit he had forgotten he missed.

There was something almost startled in his expression, as if he hadn’t expected to see you here, hadn’t expected you at all.

"Did something happen? Are you hurt?" He was already stepping forward, concern etched into every line of his face.

There was a time when that look would have unraveled you. When your heart would have stuttered at the mere thought of being the center of his attention.

Now, it felt… strange.

Performative.

Not because you thought he was faking it—Zayne never faked anything—but because it no longer mattered.

You blinked, taken aback for a brief moment before schooling your features into something unreadable.

"I'm alright."

A pause.

Why did he sound as if he had just seen you yesterday? As if a year of silence had not stretched between you like an ocean?

Why was he looking at you like that?

And why—why did it still taste bitter?

His gaze flickered over you, searching for something, before he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Then why are you here?"

You raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, it’s none of my business," he amended quickly, clearing his throat, adjusting his glasses again—nervous. Zayne never used to be nervous around you.

"But since you’re here," he continued, voice carefully composed, "perhaps we could talk? If you wouldn’t mind, of course."

There was something almost hesitant in his tone. Like he was reaching for something he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask for.

And before you could decide how to respond—

A warmth wrapped around you.

"Sorry I kept you waiting, baby."

A familiar voice. Soft lips pressed against your temple. A presence that felt like home.

Your partner.

Zayne went still.

You didn’t even need to look at him to know. You could feel it—the way the air between you turned sour, thick with something unspoken, something unacknowledged.

You turned to face your lover, melting into the easy affection they offered, their touch grounding you in a way Zayne’s never had.

"Is that your friend?" your partner asked curiously, glancing at Zayne with polite indifference.

You tilted your head, considering the question.

Friend?

No, that wasn’t quite right.

You let out a soft giggle, shrugging as you intertwined your fingers with theirs. "I guess?"

And then—without another glance, without another word—you turned, walking away.

Zayne remained where he stood, unmoving, silent.

He didn’t call after you. Didn’t reach out.

Because he knew.

He knew that if he had any place in your life, it would have been beside you, not behind you—watching as you disappeared into a world that no longer included him.

And now, the only thing he had left—

Was the taste of regret, bitter and lingering on his tongue.

...

Bitterness clung to Zayne like the aftertaste of a drink too strong, too sharp. And so, he sought sweetness in the only way he knew how—in thoughts of you.

Your touch, the gentle weight of your hand on his wrist. Your voice, quiet yet commanding, soft yet certain. Your presence, steady as the tide, once an anchor, now a ghost.

He had spent too long convincing himself he could let you go. That logic could silence longing, that reason could tame regret. But then he saw you again.

And the moment he did, he knew.

You belonged by his side.

So, it began. A pattern. A ritual. Lingering in the places you once adored, slipping into the coffee shop you used to frequent, hoping—praying—that fate would grant him another moment.

And fate, cruel and kind in equal measure, did.

You were alone, sipping your drink, fingers lazily scrolling through your phone. Every now and then, the corners of your lips twitched into a smile—small, fleeting, devastating. Zayne felt something in his chest splinter.

He wanted to be the reason for that smile again.

With a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding, he stepped forward, lowering himself into the seat across from you.

"Y/N."

Your name left his lips like a confession, quiet, careful.

You lifted your gaze, expression unreadable, an eyebrow arching slightly at his sudden presence. But no shock. No warmth.

That alone made doubt creep in. But it was too late to turn back now.

"...That’s unexpected," you said, returning your attention to your phone. "I thought you didn’t like this café."

His lips curved, but there was no humor in it. "I don’t," he admitted, adjusting his glasses with practiced ease. "But I find myself drawn to places that remind me of you. Old habits die hard, it seems."

A pause. Then—

"Nice."

Nothing more. Not a smile, not a flicker of interest. Just a word, impersonal and distant, slipping from your lips with all the weight of an afterthought.

It caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected warmth, but this? This felt like standing outside in the cold, staring at a window where a fire once burned.

Still, he pressed forward.

"So," he began, voice smooth yet hesitant. "Have you been well?"

"Cut the small talk."

Your voice was calm, but your patience was thin, and when your eyes met his again, he saw it—exhaustion. The kind that settles after a storm, after too many words left unspoken for too long.

"What do you want, Zayne?"

He exhaled slowly, as if composing himself. "I see time has made you even more direct," he mused, before his gaze darkened, sharpened. "Very well. I won’t insult you with pleasantries. I came because I needed to speak with you—about us."

A flicker of something crossed your face, too fast for him to name. And then—

"There is no ‘us,’ Zayne."

Your words were soft, but they struck harder than a shout.

"We didn’t work out," you continued, your voice steady, final. "It happens. Move on."

His fingers curled against the table, the faintest twitch of his jaw betraying the emotion he so carefully masked.

"You make it sound so simple," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "As if what we were—what we could have been—was nothing more than an inconsequential mistake."

"Not a mistake," you corrected. "A lesson."

He laughed then, low and humorless. "I see. And what exactly did I teach you?"

"That love is not enough."

It was cruel in its honesty. Devastating in its simplicity.

He looked away for a moment, staring at the swirl of steam rising from your drink, as if it held the answers he sought. Then, quieter this time, he said, "And yet, I find myself incapable of learning that lesson."

You didn’t respond. You only stood, preparing to leave.

That was when he reached for you.

Fingers wrapping around your wrist—gentle, hesitant, desperate. And in that moment, neither of you spoke.

Because you both felt it.

The ghost of what once was. The warmth of a memory neither had fully let go of.

His grip loosened, but he did not let go.

"Tell me," he said, voice softer now, raw in a way he had never allowed himself to be. "Is this truly the end?"

Your gaze met his, unwavering.

And then you nodded.

A single motion. Firm. Certain. Unshakable.

He let you go.

And though every part of him rebelled against it, though his heart ached with the knowledge that he would wake tomorrow with the same longing, the same regret, he told himself it was enough.

Because if you were happy—if someone else had succeeded where he had failed—then who was he to ask for more?

At least, that’s what he tried to believe.

Rafayel

A year had passed.

The seasons had shifted, weaving through time like a quiet symphony, their passage marked by sun-warmed afternoons and frost-kissed mornings. Life had carried on, carrying you with it.

And somehow, somewhere between then and now, you had left him behind.

Not in a single, heart-wrenching moment, not in some grand, dramatic farewell. No, you had left him slowly—like the tide pulling back from the shore, retreating inch by inch, until one day you realized there was nothing left to reach for.

And you were okay with that.

More than okay.

You had built something new from the pieces of yourself he had never cherished. A life that felt like yours, untouched by the weight of waiting, unburdened by the ache of almost-love.

And you had found someone. Someone who didn’t make you wonder if you were asking for too much. Someone who reached for you first, without hesitation.

You never thought about him anymore.

Not really.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

Because today, just as laughter spilled from your lips like honey, warm and golden, just as your partner squeezed your hand in theirs, grounding, steady—

You saw him.

Rafayel.

Standing at the entrance of the café, half-cast in shadow, his sharp gaze locked onto you like a man seeing a mirage in the desert.

Your breath did not hitch.

Your pulse did not quicken.

If there was an ache left inside you, it was nothing more than an old scar—a faint reminder of pain you had long since learned to live without.

But he—

He looked frozen.

Like he had walked into a moment he wasn’t supposed to witness.

Like the sight of you—laughing, radiant, untouched by him—was something he had never considered possible.

You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly.

Oh.

He hadn’t changed much. Still dressed in purple tones, still holding himself with that same quiet confidence, still looking at you like he was searching for something.

But he had changed.

His face was unreadable, but his eyes—once filled with amusement, teasing, always dancing just out of reach—were darker now. Heavier.

You knew that weight.

Regret.

Good.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with things left unsaid, ghosts of words that once sat on the tip of your tongue, always swallowed before they could escape.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Y/N.”

Your name on his lips used to feel like the start of something. A promise. A quiet, unspoken longing.

Now, it was just a name.

You blinked at him, offering a small, polite smile—the kind you gave to distant acquaintances, to strangers who mistook familiarity for significance.

“Oh,” you said, as if realizing he was there for the first time. “Rafayel.”

The casualness in your voice was deliberate.

His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did—just the slightest shift, just enough for you to know he felt it.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

It had.

A lifetime had passed in that year.

“Yes, it has.”

You didn’t ask him how he was. Didn’t give him the opening he was waiting for.

The silence stretched between you, long enough to feel like a choice.

The café smelled of coffee and cinnamon, of sugar melting into warm pastries, but the only thing you could taste was clarity—light, crisp, sweet.

Then—

“Who’s this?”

Your partner’s voice, gentle yet firm, cut through the stillness.

You turned to them, your gaze softening the moment it met theirs.

And that—that was what made Rafayel’s breath hitch.

The way you looked at them.

The way you had never looked at him.

“They’re an old friend,” you said simply.

Not a lover.

Not someone who had once left you waiting in the dark, sifting through the scraps of his affection, trying to find something whole.

Just someone you used to know.

And you knew he heard the finality in your voice.

For a second, just a fleeting second, something flickered in his expression.

Loss.

Too little, too late.

You turned back to your partner, your fingers still laced with theirs.

The conversation resumed. Effortless. Unbroken.

And Rafayel—who had once believed you would always be there, lingering like an unfinished story—stood there, realizing he had become nothing more than a footnote in yours.

You didn’t look back.

And the only taste he was left with—

Was bitter.

...

Regret clung to Rafayel like salt on skin—persistent, inescapable, a reminder of tides that had long since receded.

And he remembered—oh, how he remembered.

The scent of your skin, like the last breath of summer before the waves stole the warmth away. The way your hair moved with the wind, as if it carried secrets only the ocean knew. The way your voice curled around his name, a siren’s call that had once lured him home.

How you understood him without words, how you indulged his recklessness, how—for once—someone had seen him for more than his name, his face, his fortune.

He still knew your favorite color, the way your smile tilted just slightly to the left, how every imperfection only made you more devastatingly perfect in his eyes.

And he couldn’t forget.

He tried, but he was a drowning man, reaching for driftwood, for anything that could bring him back to shore. So, he watched from a distance, fingers hovering over your name on his screen, refreshing, searching. Checking where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

Love makes fools of men. But obsession—obsession turns them into ghosts.

And when he had mapped the rhythm of your days, he found himself drifting into them. Hovering at the edges of your world, waiting for the perfect moment to pull you back into his gravity.

When it finally happened, he caught you off guard.

You were walking, earphones in, humming a tune under your breath, lost in a world where he no longer belonged.

His hand found your shoulder.

Startled, you swung your bag on instinct, and it hit him square in the arm. He winced, clutching it dramatically.

“Ow, cutie! First, you break my heart, and now you try to break my arm?” His grin was lopsided, but his eyes betrayed him—searching, desperate.

You barely spared him a glance before rolling your eyes, turning away.

“No—wait.” His fingers caught your wrist, hesitant but firm.

You turned back, leveling him with a stare. "What? Want to get hit again?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it faltered under the weight of your indifference. He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.

"I would much rather prefer just to talk to you." His voice softened, no longer laced with teasing, but something closer to pleading.

Then, quieter—more deliberate—

“Y/N, take me back.”

You blinked. For a moment, silence stretched between you, the space between each breath vast as the horizon.

Then, you took a step back. And he felt the distance like an undertow, dragging him deeper.

“Absolutely not.”

There was no anger in your voice, no bitterness. Just finality, as gentle as a wave washing over forgotten footprints in the sand.

His throat bobbed. “…No?”

"You heard me."

His fingers twitched at his sides. “Cutie, please reconsider—”

“Oh god, don’t call me that.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing.

He hesitated, but then his gaze turned serious, the teasing stripped away. “I know I made mistakes—”

“You broke us, Rafayel.”

His breath caught. The truth of it cut through him like cold water, merciless and clear.

“Y/N.” His voice was lower now, quiet in a way that made the world around you feel too loud. “I know I ruined things, but you can’t tell me we weren’t great. You can’t tell me what we had wasn’t—”

“It was.” You interrupted, your expression unreadable. “Until it wasn’t.”

Something inside him cracked.

"I've moved on," you said simply, shifting your bag over your shoulder. And then, with a ghost of a smirk—mocking, cruel in its lightness—

"You should too, fishie."

It should have made him laugh. It should have made him tease you back, call you something equally ridiculous.

Instead, it felt like the tide pulling him under.

He said nothing, only watching you, searching your face for something—anything—that might mean he still had a chance.

And then you turned.

He caught your wrist again, more desperately this time. “Tell me,” he murmured, voice unsteady. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Do you want to see me on my knees?”

You looked at him then, really looked at him.

"I just want to see you out of my sight."

The words landed like crashing waves against stone.

His grip loosened, and you slipped away like water through his fingers.

"Have a great life, Rafayel."

And you walked away.

He should have followed. Should have thrown pride to the wind, should have fallen at your feet and begged like a desperate sailor praying to the sea.

But something in your voice—calm, unwavering—told him the storm had passed. And all that was left was the wreckage.

So he stood still.

And for the first time, he let you drift beyond his reach.

For now.

Sylus

A year had passed since you walked away from Sylus, but time had done nothing to erase the ache in your chest, nor the memory of how effortlessly you had disappeared from his life. You had left as silently as a forgotten dream, taking your heart with you, and leaving him behind to rot in the wreckage of his own actions. The decision had seemed like a balm in the moment, a clean cut. But as the days turned into months, the absence had become a ghost. It hovered in the corners of your mind, a constant reminder of the man you thought you knew, the man who had ruined you. And yet, despite it all, you had learned to live again.

You had rebuilt yourself, piece by broken piece. You embraced the ordinary—the quiet routine of your life, the peace that had once seemed so elusive when he was around. Your life was no longer tangled in the complexity of him. You began to explore things you never had the courage to before, tasting freedom in ways that filled you with pride. The world, without Sylus, was kinder—gentler. You smiled more, laughed more, and found comfort in the simplest of things: a cup of coffee on a rainy day, the soft rustle of leaves underfoot in autumn, the glow of a sunset you hadn’t shared with anyone. You had learned to live for yourself.

And yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, a part of you still wondered what he was doing.

The knock at your door shattered the quiet peace you had so carefully built.

You hadn’t expected visitors—especially not him.

Standing there, on the other side of the threshold, was the man who had once been your whole world, the man who had broken it. Sylus.

His appearance was jarring. His usual immaculate self was ruffled, as though the weight of the world had been wearing on him in ways he never allowed anyone to see. His sharp features were drawn, eyes darker than you remembered. There was something unfamiliar in the way he held himself—no longer the man who walked into a room like he owned it, but someone who had been worn down by the passage of time, by regret. And yet, his eyes, the same eyes that had once mesmerized you, still held that magnetic pull. Only this time, they were haunted.

“Sylus,” you breathed, the name slipping out of you before you could stop it.

There was a moment of tense silence, where neither of you moved. And then, his lips parted—just slightly—and a flicker of something like amusement touched his face.

“Missed me, kitten?” His voice was smooth, but there was an unfamiliar hesitation there, something raw in the way he spoke to you.

You couldn’t tell if he was still playing games, or if this was something else entirely. You studied him for a long moment, trying to read him, trying to figure out why, after everything, he still seemed so... familiar.

But you no longer cared.

The words came out before you even thought them. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was soft, there was no venom, no fury. Only confusion. And a quiet indifference that was worse than anything you could’ve said.

His gaze faltered for a second, but he quickly regained his composure, though his smirk was tighter than usual. “I thought you’d be more excited to see me.”

His words were like a knife to the gut, but you felt nothing—not anymore. It was like you had been hollowed out over time, and there was nothing left inside you to give.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes cool. “Ah, where are my manners?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that slipped out, though it wasn’t playful—more a shield against the weight of his presence. “Oh, how I missed my favorite liar! The one who broke my heart and threw me away like a piece of trash.” You rolled your eyes, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.

The words should have stung, but somehow, you found relief in saying them out loud. For so long, you had kept the hurt buried beneath layers of careful silence, and now, here it was—raw, unapologetic.

Sylus’s face flickered, a faint shadow of hurt passing through his gaze before he regained his composure. “The kitten has grown some claws, I see.” His voice was flat, but there was a trace of something in it, something he was trying to mask.

He took a step closer, as if expecting you to let him in, but you quickly moved to block the door.

“Don’t,” you said simply.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised at your sudden resolve, but you didn’t care.

“You’re not welcome here,” you said, your tone final.

Sylus’s eyes softened for a split second, and in that brief moment, you saw the desperation that clawed at him. The weight of his regret that he never allowed to surface. “You’re hurting me, sweetie,” he said, though it was far from playful. It sounded like a plea.

Your heart didn’t twitch. It didn’t soften. It just felt... heavy.

“Good,” you muttered, looking him up and down, and for the first time, you saw him clearly—not the man you had once adored, but a man who had lost everything and had nothing left to offer.

Just then, a voice came from inside your home.

“Darling, what’s taking you so long?”

You didn’t need to look back to feel your partner’s arms slide around your waist from behind, their presence warm and secure, a reminder of the love you had found after him.

“Hmm, who’s this?” Your partner asked lazily, looking past you to the man who once consumed your every thought.

Sylus’s gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the newcomer, but you weren’t going to offer him any answers. Not anymore.

“He got the wrong address,” you replied evenly, your voice indifferent as you turned back to face Sylus, daring him to challenge your words.

And just like that, the man who once held your heart in his hands realized the weight of his own failure. The realization hit him like a tidal wave.

Sylus opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths, as if he were choking on his own grief.

You met his gaze, and for the first time, you felt no anger—only a quiet, final resolve. “I think it's time for you to leave, sir.”

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. His heart, once so certain and confident, now shattered under the weight of your indifference.

“Have a good night.” you whispered, the finality of the words slipping from your lips. And with that, you closed the door on him—on the man you once thought you could never escape.

Sylus stood there, staring at the wood that now separated you from him, as though hoping it would open again. But it wouldn’t.

He swallowed, hard. The man who had always prided himself on his control was now nothing more than a broken shell of his former self.

And it was all his doing.

For the first time in his life, Sylus had lost. And he had no one to blame but himself.

...

Sylus was not the kind of man who accepted defeat.

Not when you were so close, so painfully out of reach, like a forbidden fruit dangling just beyond his grasp.

He couldn't—no, he wouldn't—let you go so easily.

His mind clung to thoughts of you, obsessions blooming in every corner of his brain: your laughter, like the chiming of delicate bells, your playful words that always teased, always challenged him, your defiance that had once felt like the spark that kept him alive. You had been his equal, his match—two stars circling in an orbit of shared chaos and fire.

But now? Now you were slipping from him, dissolving into someone else’s arms, and that realization felt like a knife being twisted into his chest. He couldn't bear it. He could never bear it.

Bitterness seeped into his soul, a slow, insidious poison that clouded his thoughts. The feeling of helplessness was foreign to him, suffocating him in ways he had never known before. He had always been the one in control—always the one who commanded the world. And now you were gone, out of his reach, and it tore at him like a storm.

The thought of another touching you, breathing in your scent, seeing the soft glow of tenderness in your eyes—Sylus couldn't abide it. No. Not when he had once owned that gaze, that touch, that part of you that was his.

He needed one more chance.

Maybe it was for the peace of his mind, maybe it was his selfish longing, his desire to reclaim what he believed was his. Or maybe it was because he couldn't let go of the idea that you were a treasure meant for his eyes alone—his to hold, his to keep, like a rare, delicate jewel locked away.

And so, like the predator he was, Sylus followed you, carefully, subtly. With Mephisto keeping watch over you, it was easy to know where you'd be, when you'd be there.

Each time, he approached, his presence lingering just at the edges of your world—watching, waiting. But you rejected him. Rejected him with biting sarcasm, with icy silence that seemed to pierce his skin like a thousand knives.

It drove him mad.

The chase was maddening. The only thing that consumed him was the desire to have you in his arms once more, to feel the heat of your skin, the sweetness of your breath, the intimacy that he had once thought was infinite.

And then one evening, when he could no longer take the ache, he made his move.

You were walking home from work, the weight of the day pressing down on your shoulders. The quiet satisfaction of surviving the day was tempered by the exhaustion that clung to you. But as you turned the corner, a hand suddenly grasped your wrist, yanking you into a shadowed alley. Your heart pounded in your chest, a burst of adrenaline flooding your veins. You opened your mouth to scream, but before the sound could escape, a hand pressed over your lips.

"Relax. It's just me."

His voice—his damn voice—sounded like a lure, familiar and dangerous. Your body froze, not out of fear, but out of recognition. You knew it was Sylus, and despite everything, despite the years of hurt and betrayal, a twisted part of you felt… safe.

When he felt you relax, he let go. You spun around to face him, heart still hammering, but now tempered with anger.

"You’re crazy," you spat, your voice sharp and unforgiving. "What do you think you’re doing?"

His gaze, that unnerving mix of calm and intensity, bore into you. His expression was disturbingly relaxed, too casual for someone who had just dragged you into an alley against your will.

"Getting your attention," he said, his tone smooth, almost mocking. "Seems like it worked."

The words hit you like a slap. Your fists clenched, your anger bubbling over.

"You can’t just pull people into a dark alley, Sylus! You’re actually insane!" You jabbed your finger at his chest, each word punctuating the fury that burned through you.

Sylus didn’t flinch, though you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes.

"...I apologize," he said softly, his voice taking on a tenderness that was so unlike him. He reached out to touch your cheek, but his hand stopped halfway, as if he was still unsure whether he had the right.

The vulnerability in that simple motion—something so un-Sylus, so raw—stirred something inside you. Something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

You sighed heavily, the weight of everything pressing down on you. "What do you want?" Your voice was laced with frustration, your patience wearing thin.

"I thought that would be obvious by now," he said, a faint smirk curling at his lips, the teasing edge still present despite the darkness in his eyes. "Guess you’re not as sharp as I thought, kitten."

The bastard. Even now, he played with you like a cat with its prey.

"I swear, I’m going to file for a restraining order against you," you muttered, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"You can try," Sylus responded smoothly, his words dripping with a dangerous calm. "But you know well enough that such things won’t stop me."

You clenched your fists, your resolve hardening. The walls you had so carefully built around your heart in the past year came crashing down in a flood of anger and pain. You had moved on, healed—didn’t he see that?

"I want you to come back to me," he said, his voice now serious, his gaze earnest, though still haunted by the traces of his past mistakes.

But you wouldn’t crack. Not now.

"Never in this lifetime," you said, the finality of your words a heavy hammer to his chest.

Sylus’s lips twisted into a small, bitter smile. "Then, in another?" His words were light, but they carried a weight that you both felt. It was his way of hiding the hurt, the pain that had followed him like a shadow.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you let the silence hang between you, thick and suffocating.

"I’ll pray that I never have to meet you again," you said softly, the words filled with a quiet kind of sorrow. "Not in this life, and not in the ones after."

And with that, you turned, walking away from him, leaving him shattered in the cold, empty alley.

Sylus watched you go, his chest tight with regret. His heart—something he had long kept locked away, something he had never truly allowed himself to feel—was breaking in ways he had never imagined. The storm inside him raged, but he couldn’t stop it.

You were gone, and this time, he knew—he knew—there would be no coming back.

Caleb

It’s been a year since you last saw Caleb.

Well, not really. Sometimes you caught glimpses of him in the crowd—just a silhouette, a shape that might be his. Your heart would catch in your throat, and for a fleeting moment, you’d swear it was him. But the figure would turn, and it would be a stranger. Your imagination had been cruel to you, conjuring up ghosts from your memories and stitching together faces from your longing. Perhaps it was just your mind showing you what you wished to see, like a cruel twist of fate reminding you of what had slipped through your fingers.

A year filled with growth. You learned to be soft with yourself, to breathe through the pain instead of suffocating in it. You allowed yourself to be bitter—let the sadness claw through your chest and the anger burn through your veins. You let yourself crumble, and when the dust settled, you gathered the fragments and made something beautiful from them. A mosaic of healing. You thanked the universe for the lesson, no matter how brutal it had been. Whether it was God, fate, or simply the chaos of life, you accepted it. You learned that you were the only constant in your own story—the one thing that would always remain when everyone else faded to whispers.

In those months, you blossomed. You breathed in the world with new lungs, filling your soul with every small moment that once went unnoticed. The way sunlight painted golden patterns on cracked sidewalks, the way the ocean waves whispered secrets to the shore, the taste of ripe fruit on a sweltering day. You poured your energy into your work, rebuilt neglected friendships, and found comfort in the warmth of those who remained. You taught yourself that it wasn’t your fault—none of it had been—and that loving him too much was never a mistake. Only, you needed to love yourself first.

And when you finally felt steady enough to open your heart again, love found you. They were calm where Caleb had been chaos, steady where Caleb had been a storm. A lighthouse guiding you back to yourself, reminding you that love wasn’t meant to break you. Their hands held you like you were fragile, but their love made you feel strong. You didn’t compare them—Caleb was a different life, a different story. But maybe that’s what you needed. You were happy, genuinely happy, for the first time in what felt like ages.

The train station buzzes around you like a hive of restless energy, travelers weaving past each other with hurried steps and heavy bags. Your lover has gone to grab snacks for the journey, leaving you alone on the worn wooden bench. The air smells of old books and fresh coffee, tinged with the metallic scent of steel tracks. You lean back, glancing at the faded timetable, feeling content in the hum of life moving around you.

And then, like a phantom stepping through the fog of memory, you see him. Caleb. The world seems to stop spinning, frozen in that singular moment. He’s standing on the opposite platform, hands shoved into his coat pockets, head bowed as if weighed down by the past. A bitter wind pulls at his hair, and for a second, he lifts his gaze. Your breath catches as his eyes meet yours, recognition dawning like sunlight cutting through rain. He hesitates, lips parting, and you see the flicker of regret, raw and unguarded.

The hurt surges up unexpectedly, but it’s quieter than it used to be, muted by time and acceptance. You don’t flinch when he takes a hesitant step forward, his mouth opening as if to call out to you. A thousand words hang between you—apologies, confessions, explanations—but none seem to find their way into the open. You see the yearning in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you as if trying to remember every detail he once took for granted.

Your lover appears at your side, offering a small smile as they hand you a paper bag filled with snacks. Their presence grounds you, pulls you back to reality from the haze of memory. Caleb sees them too, and the pain that flashes across his face is like a knife carving regret into his bones. You watch as he realizes what he’s lost—how you’ve moved on, how you’ve found happiness that doesn’t depend on him.

He lingers there, stranded on the other side of the tracks, unable to cross over to where you stand. You almost pity him—the way his shoulders sag, the way his jaw clenches to swallow whatever plea was forming. But the ache that once ruled you has softened, transformed into something quieter. You’re not angry anymore. You’re not shattered. You’ve built something new from the ruins he left behind.

Caleb lowers his gaze, as if surrendering to the weight of his own choices. And as the train pulls into the station, you take your lover’s hand, intertwining your fingers like roots that hold you steady. You feel Caleb’s stare on your back as you step onto the train, but you don’t look back. There’s nothing left to see—just the remnants of a past that no longer defines you.

As the train moves away, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. It’s not triumph, not victory—it’s closure, as quiet and gentle as a sunset slipping beneath the horizon. You made it out the other side. And that, more than anything, is the proof that you are whole again.

...

But the peace you felt wasn’t the same for Caleb. Seeing you again after what felt like a lifetime was like being thrown into the depths of the ocean—lungs burning, heart pounding, utterly helpless. He hadn’t known he was drowning until he saw you sitting there, your feet dangling off the edge of the bench, lips parted in a soft “o” of surprise. You looked at him with that same curiosity, that gentle tilt of your head, and it struck him just how far away you felt—like a dream that had slipped through his fingers.

It wasn’t his place to feel this way. Not anymore. But he couldn’t help the ache that gnawed at his ribs, nor the desperate urge to reach out and pull you into his arms, to whisper apologies into your skin until his words sunk into your bones. Yet even from a distance, he could see how your shoulders were relaxed, your gaze steady and unburdened, and it only made the chasm between you widen.

When another person’s hands found your own, threading fingers together with the ease of familiarity, his heart cracked open—raw and aching. It wasn’t his business. He shouldn’t care. But he did. Too much. More than he thought he still could.

He wanted to run after you, to say something—anything. But what would he even say? That he missed you so much it hurt? That he had spent a year convincing himself he’d made the right choice, only to realize how profoundly wrong he’d been? It all felt pointless now, tangled in regret and longing.

Endless scenarios crashed through his mind like waves against rock, and somewhere in that turmoil, he decided he needed to speak to you—one last time. He needed your attention on him, just once more.

He waited for you outside your workplace, nerves coiling tighter with every second that passed. He wondered if you’d be angry—if you’d tell him to leave and never come back. But when you appeared, you only offered a small, polite smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You looked at him with the calm detachment of someone who had long since made peace with the past.

“Hey...” he murmured, forcing a boyish grin that looked so out of place on his troubled face. He rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to wring out the nerves clinging to him.

You smiled again—gentle, unbothered, and heartbreakingly kind. “Hi.” Your voice was soft, like a memory he couldn’t quite grasp, and it was that tenderness—free from bitterness—that made his chest ache. He had prepared himself for anger, for hurt laced in your words. Instead, you were kind. You always had been, like a flower that bent but never broke, even under the harshest of storms.

“I was wondering if we could talk,” he said finally, hesitating as if the words themselves might shatter.

You didn’t move, just nodded your head. “Talk, then.” Your tone was steady, as if he was just another passerby in your life, not the storm that once tore it apart.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke, words stumbling over one another. “I guess... I didn’t realize how much I missed you—until I saw you at the station. I just—” He took a shaky breath. “I wanted to know if you’d ever consider forgiving me. For how foolish I was. For being so... selfish.” His eyes, those familiar, pleading puppy eyes, bore into yours, searching for a sliver of the past warmth.

You glanced at him, and he saw the flicker of something unreadable in your gaze before you answered. “Forgiveness is too much to ask for,” you replied softly, but your voice held a quiet strength that hadn’t been there before. “But I’ve learned to accept what happened. You should too, Caleb.”

His hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept it.”

You gave a sad, wistful smile, the kind that hurt more than any cruel words could have. “That’s on you,” you whispered, eyes glistening with a tenderness that had nothing to do with him anymore. “I’m happy now. I’ve built something beautiful out of the pieces you left behind. And I won’t let you take that from me.”

He lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze. “I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered.

Your smile faded, replaced by a quiet, unyielding resolve. “Intentions don’t erase consequences. Live a life without further regrets, Caleb.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You turned and walked away, each step decisive and unwavering, leaving him rooted to the spot—drowning in the knowledge that you were truly, undeniably gone.

And Caleb just stood there, feeling the hollow ache where your love used to be, realizing far too late that he had destroyed the only good thing he’d ever known.

@rubyrubyruuu / @browneyedgirl22 / @valentine-n-ragnarok / @whimsiecat / @esylwen / @crimsonmarabou / @we-rice-boi / @mitchelbr1 / @animegamerfox / @chgumji / @jeondyy / @rafayelridesfisheatsfish

[sailoryuns]

BABY FEVER 🍼

genre. husband!heeseung x wife!reader

warnings. tooth-aching fluff, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected s*x, impreg kink (!!!), bath time aftercare, i believe that’s it.. wc -> 2.1k

“i’m gonna put a baby in you someday,” your husband casually says while rubbing your stomach.

“in this cute little tummy right here,” he points near your belly button, planting a small kiss to it.

you two were finally alone after heeseung offered to help your parents move and rearrange some of the new furniture that arrived today. you had decided to stay at your family’s beach house over the summer for a change of scenery as you hadn’t been here since you were a teenager, let alone seen your parents in person since last year.

this wasn’t the first time he’s said something like this and it surely won’t be the last, but you burst into a giggle, “quit kidding around, hee.”

he’s always playing around but you can count on one hand how many times he’s actually finished inside you, since you’re not on birth control for health reasons you have to be extra careful to not end up getting pregnant.

there’s been a handful of times where he’s had to run to the store and get you a morning after pill which you’d just hope for the best and leave it up to the universe. you have noticed that heeseung has been more vocal about wanting children lately, so maybe he’s hinting at finally taking the next step.

“and if i told you i wasn’t?” he shifts slightly, eyes flickering up to stare into your gaze. “would you let me paint your walls? give you a baby so i can see my pretty wife bear our children?”

the thought of you carrying his child pops into his head a lot, probably on an hourly basis—he’s more than ready to start a family, but he’s still not sure where you stand 100% on the idea. there was no pressure on his side, but it’s important to make sure you’re both on the same page.

your hands snake up to his chin, cupping it firmly, ready to make the final say once and for all. “yes hee, i’ll let you do anything to me. i trust you, i trust us.”

you’ve never trusted someone as much as you do heeseung, he’s the reason you even get out of bed in the morning, makes you want to push yourself to become a better person. real love is the refusal to never give up on one another, even through the toughest, most ugliest moments.

what you’ve come to realize is that you have all of him and everything he’s promised to provide is all yours; his heart, his last name, his vow to stay by your side forever— through sickness and health. he’s given every single aspect of himself he has to offer, the only thing left that’s missing is a tiny addition that carries both you and heeseung’s DNA. you’re more than curious to see what the outcome will be, harboring no regrets inside. heeseung’s smile grew wider, feeling faint tears rim his eyes at the thought of you putting all your trust in him. you have no idea just how much that means to him.

his head lowers back to your torso, imprinting a trail of kisses, slowly making his way down further and further. your skin feels as if it’s on fire, boiling hot like the scorching summer heat.

he took an ample amount of time to worship your body, leaving wet kisses to your inner thighs, “i’ve wanted this for so long…” he hums against you, insides buzzing with raw passion and desire. “want to finally do this together,” he gently nibbles, a faint bite mark appears to which he repeats on the other side.

“your tits are gonna get even bigger, more plump and so full of milk,” he continues, elated with so much enthusiasm, “that pregnancy glow will make you even more gorgeous.” he wasn’t saying all of this for nothing, he truly cannot wait to experience it all, how your belly will grow each month, all the random/weird food cravings you’ll get, and gracefully handle any sudden mood swings you may have.

you were aching for him, you couldn’t even answer back, your heads reeling with too many thoughts— the thought of him stuffing you to the brim with his cock. you were topless but wanted him to take off the rest, wanted him to fuck you until your body physically shakes and you can’t think of anything but him being buried balls deep into your sousing cunt. you had to savour every last bit of this though, etch every little detail in your brain to replay as a supercut one day; remembering the time you two made love to conceive your first child.

heeseung’s slender digits move skillfully to hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your drenched panties. “it’s crazy to me how this is all mine,” he pauses to admire your glistening arousal, scooping it up with his one of his fingers to have a quick taste— saccharine.

“i have the prettiest, sexiest, hottest wife in the whole fucking world.” he’ll never not compliment you, even when you’re old and gray he will always remain the same.

“oh stopp,” you toy with your bottom lip, feeling your cheeks grow hotter and hotter by his constant sweet talk. then you become a pile of mush, simply too absorbed with pleasure as he sunk one of his digits into you, thrusting in and out slowly.

“fuck.. feels s’good- please don’t stop.” you beg for this to never end, bidding all concept of time to vanish in hopes of it lasting infinitely.

“we’re going to create the most beautiful family,” he coos, licking a stripe to your clit, swiping up and down as he continued pumping his fingers in your wetness, “just you and me.”

he only came up for air to say those last few lines, diving right back in to drink up your deliciousness. his tongue adds light pressure to your overly sensitive bud, making you twitch and subconsciously jolt up— his free hand forcibly brings your hips back down, locking you in place so you have nowhere to go— forced to take all that he gives you. paradise. that’s what this is. you’re already close to the edge, the broken moans that escaped your lips are like a soft ballad to his ears, cursing under your breath, panting, crying out his name repeatedly.

“ah! s’close… don’t stop, don’t stop..” you plea so pathetically, voice getting shakier as you reach your climax, his face was soaked, fucking drenched.

he’ll willingly drown, submerge himself into the flood of you, no other place he’d rather be than between these perfect, plush thighs. he drives you into further insanity when his pace drew more rapid, finding the ultimate sweet spot. the lethal combination of his fingers and his tongue working to give you a mind blowing orgasm, all you could do was utter feeble, plaintive cries, latching onto his fluffy hair as you ride out your sudden high that’s stampeding into you full force. your body goes inert, limbs pliant beneath his embrace.

“you did so good for me angel, so proud of you.” heeseung briefly pecks both your thighs, giving it a little smack once he comes back up to face you again.

he quickly discards the rest of his clothes, but everything’s moving in slow motion. his movements are frantic yet it still wasn’t quick enough, he needs to feel you so badly. his manhood throbs against your folds, sliding his shaft between the puffy, saturated lips, making such delightful sounds.

“quit teasin’,” you whine, not in the mood for prolonging this anymore.

he doesn’t say anything, just twisting a smile in response, but he’ll give you exactly what you want. who is he to deny his wife’s orders? so he finally enters you, filling you up little by little, inch by inch; and when he’s fully settled in, your walls cinch around his length immediately.

“never fails to amaze me how i fuck this little pussy on the daily but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… always squeezin’ me babe.” his breath hitched towards the end, already sounding so pussydrunk from the way you suck in the entirety of him.

your legs hook around each side of his waist, keening at the way his cock drives into you, slow but sensual, moving your hips to match his rhythm.

“be a good girl and wait for me. wanna cum together.” he husks, to which you obediently nod at his request.

your jaw slacks open wide from his cock hitting your walls beautifully, each stroke he gave sent you to a further state of delirium. he picks up his speed a little more, his brain empty with no thoughts but this warm, dewy pussy swallowing him up, groaning as you leave scratches along his back. heeseung’s sweet compliments never stop, they only intensify.

‘you’re all mine, and i’m all yours baby’

‘your face looks so pretty when it’s all fucked out’

‘love fucking this perfect little cunt’ and ‘i love you so much, my angel baby.’

it brings you to the verge, strings of shattered moans evade your senses.

your hands greedily come up the sides of his face, pulling him in for a frenzied, yet passionate kiss caging him in just in case he has second thoughts, trapping him with no choice but to cum inside.

“shit— keep going like that and you’re def getting pregnant tonight.” he groans against your lips, this only made you clench around him tighter,

“please- wan’ your cum, put your babies in me..” you want him to paint your walls white, milk him for all he’s worth and some.

his strokes get sloppier as his high approaches, squeezing your thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t take much longer for him to shoot his load inside, planting every bit of his seed as the waves of your second orgasm ripples through you. you’re both heavily panting and gasping for air, when he pulls out you’re left empty again, but at least you were stuffed with his hot cum. he looks down at the mess he’s made, sodden and creamy, picking up some that’s spilled out of your cunt to push back in.

“we can’t let any go to waste, right ?”

“mm… yea.” you bit your lip, still shaking, static electricity flowing through your veins.

he topples over in exhaustion, way too tired to move. well, at least for now— he’ll be able to go again in another hour or so.

“you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” he says while snuggling up in the crook of your neck.

“remember the day i asked you out? i thought you were gonna say no.” that was random… but when it comes to heeseung, he was practically known for saying the most unexpected shit at the oddest times.

“what?” you were so confused, firstly this came out of nowhere, but also why would he ever think that? it was basically love at first sight with each other.

“wasn’t nearly as confident back then, i used to practice in the mirror how i’d do it.” he chuckles at those old memories, in hindsight none of it was necessary because he didn’t say any of the lines he rehearsed. defeated the whole purpose.

“since the day we first met i knew you were the girl i’d spend the rest of eternity with.” his fingers trace down your spine as he spoke, you’re so overfilled with joy that you could cry. you regret absolutely nothing, the only thing you do is all the other men who came before heeseung, all those losers who were wastes of time, but that journey has led you here and this is where you’ll stay for the rest of your life. it still feels like the honeymoon stage with him, a never ending blissful rollercoaster.

he’s a romantic at heart just like you, he still writes occasional love letters to you and is always doing something to bring a smile to your face— whether it be coming home with your favorite candy, buying you flowers, or taking you out on cute, fun dates. every day is like a new surprise, never knowing what you’re gonna get when it comes to your husband’s spontaneity.

you’re both a little sticky, sweaty, and smell of nothing but pure sex. heeseung ends up carrying you all the way to the bathroom, deciding to run a nice, relaxing bath for the two of you. he adds your favorite lavender bubble bath, making the water extra bubbly and soapy for you which he knows you love.

when you’re both in the bathtub, your backs facing him as he uses a loofah to clean you up, embedding gentle kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders as he does it. he held you for what seemed like forever, just admiring each other’s company while under the water, almost falling asleep right in his arms.

writing smut at 10 am is crazy work 💀😂 but uhhh this is a mess and all over the place idec, i just need husband!hee more than oxygen fr #breedable #heescumdump <3

[vacate-et-scire]

*̩̩̥͙　-Your Tears Kill Me-ˏˋ⋆

Jason has seen you cry before.

A misty-eyed sniffle when you watched a sad movie. A few stray tears when you laughed too hard. That one time you got frustrated over something stupid and wiped your eyes before you even realized you were crying.

But this? This is different.

You’re sobbing.

Not quiet, not composed. It’s ugly, gut-wrenching, heartbreaking—the kind of crying that makes your whole body tremble, the kind that says this isn’t about one bad day, or even one bad week.

This is everything crashing down at once.

And Jason doesn’t know what to do.

He just stands there, stiff as a board, watching as you clutch your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking, breath hitching violently between sobs. You’re trying to talk—he can tell—but all that comes out are broken, gasping hiccups.

His heart clenches, because fuck, did he—?

"Hey, hey—" He steps forward, hands hovering awkwardly. "What happened? Did I—? Shit, did I say something?"

You shake your head wildly, but it does nothing to stop the tears.

Jason curses under his breath. "Then what? Talk to me, sweetheart."

But you can’t. Not yet. You’re still unraveling, like a dam finally bursting after holding back years of pressure. And Jason—who’s so good at fixing things with his hands, with his weapons, with sharp words and sharp instincts—doesn’t know how to fix this.

So he does the only thing he can.

He pulls you in.

You collapse against him like you were waiting for it, hands fisting into his shirt, your weight pressing into him like you’re afraid he’ll let go. He won’t. He won’t.

"Shh," he murmurs, running a hand over your back, his touch uncertain but there. "I got you. You’re okay."

You shake your head again against his chest, a choked noise escaping your throat. "I’m not."

Jason’s breath stutters.

Because he knows what it’s like to believe that—to feel like no matter how many times someone tells you you’re okay, you never are. And knowing you—someone who always smiles, always finds the light in things, always keeps going—are feeling that way?

It guts him.

"Fuck," he breathes, tightening his arms around you. "I—" He swallows hard. "I don’t know what to say, babe. I don’t know how to make this better. But I’m here. Okay? I’m right here."

You just sob.

And Jason? Jason just holds you through it. Through the shaking, through the gasping, through the way your fingers clutch at him like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

He wishes he had the right words, wishes he could take whatever weight you’ve been carrying and break it over his knee like he does to every bastard who deserves it. But he can’t.

So he stays. He holds you, rocks you gently, presses kisses into your hair, murmurs reassurances even if he’s not sure they help.

And eventually, eventually, the sobs quiet. Your breathing evens out. Your grip on his shirt loosens, just a little.

Jason leans down, voice soft. "You back with me?"

You nod weakly.

"Yeah?"

A sniff. A small, fragile, "Yeah."

Jason lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. "Good." He presses his lips against your forehead. "Now, you wanna tell me what’s going on, or you wanna just sit here for a while?"

You don’t answer right away. But you don’t pull away, either.

And that’s enough.

So Jason stays. He holds you tighter, presses another kiss into your hair, and lets you breathe.

Because if you ever start breaking again, he’ll be right here to catch the pieces.

Every damn time.

[mixingandmelting]

Crashing Unannounced

Summary: rating how bad they are with coming over without telling you

A/N: Inspired and can be treated as a part-two of this request here

Dick: Bad

Does it whenever he misses you especially when it’s been a long time since he last saw you, having a  impulsive urge to just see you out of the blue, wanting comfort, worried about you

If he could, he’d be doing it everyday as it would mean he’d get to stay with you but he does respect personal boundaries

Also cherishes your safety and keeps it as his top priority. He’s not exactly a normal person to go out with, having been targeted as both Nightwing and Dick Grayson before

Mostly does it when you’re there where he tries to do it when your awake, knocking on the window with a grin that goes from hopeful to full out joy when he manages to surprise you in a good way

When you’re asleep and either of you are going through a bad time, he enters and ends up snuggling with you in bed

Ask him how he got here when you wake up and he’ll just mumble arbitrarily “through the door” before pulling you towards him and spooning you

Jason: Not as bad

He’s not as frequent as Dick where he also does it when he really misses you whether it’s random or he hasn’t seen you in a while and you’re awake. Though he does it more out of worry whether you're in danger, having a bad time, or sick or when he really needs comfort and support which equates to essentially you

Cares about privacy and personal space since it’s his first time in an actual relationship so he doesn’t want to cross a line

Also because being a crime lord-turned-vigilante isn’t the safest job career and can lead you to be put in danger

When it comes to coming over unannounced and taking you completely off guard though - yeah, he does that though

If you’re not there and he needs(wants) to see you, he’ll stay at your place and wait until you come back. Legit even texts where are you if he’s been waiting for a while and if you ask why, he’ll bluntly answer that he’s over your place 

Has surprised you in your own living room where he’d be casually sitting on the couch, helmet/muzzle off surfing through the channels, looking up and asking you what took you so long before cuddling with you and hanging out

Tim: Really Bad

Bold of you to assume he drops by only when you’re there. He drops by every time when he’s around regardless if you’re there or not because he’s always wanting to be around you

Occurred even before the two of you started dating, watching over you to make sure your life is going fine and no one or a thing is causing harm to you because that’s how bad he had and still has for you

Knocks on the glass window to get your attention if you’re there so he could hang out for a bit

Most of the time though you’re not there, so he sneaks in to make sure everything isn’t out of the ordinary and that you’re still okay

Always leaves a gift as a sign that he was there because he ironically feels guilty entering your home and at least he isn’t randomly dropping by empty handed, right…?

In a way it’s Christmas for half the year with how many times he comes over

Duke: Good

He was taught to be a gentleman so it’s extremely rare for him to crash unannounced

Always rings on the doorbell or knocks on the front door if it doesn’t have one while coming over after he gets the okay from you whether it’s in person, call, or text

Even when he’s suddenly wanting to see you, he gives you a heads up that he’s going your way and asks if it’s alright to stop by

The times he actually arrives unannounced is when he notices you’re going through something and he wants to cheer you up or help you out. Maybe even plan a mini, impromptu surprise party with food, flowers, or a stuffed bear in the tow

If not, it’s when something bad is going down and he wants to make sure that you’re safe and sound

Makes sure to knock on the window but most times, again, he’s getting your attention through the front door

Damian: Worst of the worst

Every day, every time, whether it’s because he’s bored, he’s wanting your affection, he needs something from you. Sometimes even when there’s no reason, it’s just because

Depending on his mood, he’ll casually enter your bedroom and stay there until you come back so he could get entertained by your reaction

Or purposely wakes you up by tapping the window so he could talk to you

Bet on him observing your sleeping form both out and inside your home, feeling the tingles in his heart how peaceful you look before he places the gift he got you at your bedside 

Of course, with a complimentary note that tells you not to think too into it, he only got it at a whim (it actually took him a few days to get the courage to get it for you)

Overall, it’s a reminder you’re not safe from him and it’s better to stay alert. Also the so-called “traps” you set up never work on him, so you can stop bother doing those now. He’s not a mouse

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6.5, 7

masterlist

Uncle!Sukuna who always hated the idea of settling down and having kids. he definitely did not want to be a parent.

Uncle!Sukuna who refused to even consider a pet because he didn't want that kind of responsibility.

Uncle!Sukuna who almost went off the grid when he got a call about stepping up as a guardian after his brother Jin and sister-in-law passed away, leaving their 6 year old son Yuji, who Sukuna hadn't seen since he was...1? maybe 2?

He hadn't been very close with Jin, and Jin's wife had always had "a bad feeling" about Sukuna, so it wasn't like he was going over every Sunday for family dinner.

Uncle!Sukuna who agrees to talk to Yuji's social worker, after multiple phone calls, to at least get an understanding of what's being asked of him, and what's at stake.

Uncle!Sukuna who the second he sees Yuji, knows he won't be able to say no to the kid. Despite being Jin's son, the boy looked exactly like Sukuna. The biggest difference in their appearance was the gummy grin that Yuji gave as soon as he saw his tall, broading, indimidating uncle. Sukuna was surprised at the...brightness the kid held, despite all he had lost.

Uncle!Sukuna who spends the next few weeks before he officially becomes Yuji's guardian getting his life together. He has money, owning his own bar and sometimes bartending there has kept his bank account more than happy. But he's never cared for big spending, except for his fancy car. So he moves out of his apartment, moving into a nice family house, in a quaint, safe neighborhood, neither of which he ever saw himself doing.

But the second he saw Yuji's face light up when he pulled up to the house for the first time, he knows he made the right choice. Even if he did grumble and act indifferent and uncaring.

Uncle!Sukuna who is suprised how easily Yuji takes to him, how comfortable he is so quickly. Considering the kid barely knew him, he acted like he had been around forever. He already calls him Uncle Kuna, and is not the least bit deterred by his hard, cold exterior.

Uncle!Sukuna who acts like Yuji is an inconvenience, an annoyance. He tells him he better not ask for anything unless he's willing to work for it. But he always finds himself buying the kid stuff whenever he goes to the store, whether it's a toy, a snack he doesn't need, a movie, or whatever. even if Yuji doesn't ask one.

Uncle!Sukuna who internally panics when there's an emergency when there is an emergency at his bar that requires his immediate attention. It's late, and there's no one to watch Yuji, and he definitely couldn't take him.

Uncle!Sukuna who practically drags a half-asleep Yuji out of the house, ignoring the kids mumbled confusion as he pulls him to the house across the street. He recalled seeing a kid in the yard the week prior, so he was taking a chance in hoping that meant there was a willing parent there too. Irresponsible and risky but he only had so many options.

Uncle!Sukuna who practically bangs on the strangers' door, waiting impatiently for someone to answer. He completely ignores the fact that it is 2 am and a weeknight.

When you open the door, rubbing your tired eyes to see a tense, tall man holding the back of a little boy's shirt, who is grinning brightly as if it wasn't 2 am, it takes you a moment to process. You glance between them a few times. They look familiar, but you can't place where you've seen them.

"Can i help you?" You eventually ask, confused and tired, and slightly annoyed at his previous banging.

Sukuna is a little thrown by the softness of your voice, by how sweet it sounds. Even with the clear tiredness and weary. He does nothing to hide his glance of..appreciation of your figure, but only lets himself get distracted for a moment before he gruffly explains why he was there, not even introducing himself.

You stare at him in suspicion for another silent moment, before glancing back to the boy next to him and giving him a kind, soft smile. Sukuna ignores the unfamiliar feelings in his chest when he sees that smile aimed at his nephew.

"I can watch him till the morning." You finally said, looking back to Sukuna. He took no time to push Yuji into your house, a breath of relief and a mumbled thanks leaving his lips before he turns, briskly walking to his car.

Once the door is shut, you stare at the child in your entry way, while he stares back up at you. You were still processing the situation, to be fair.

"Hi honey, I'm y/n. What's your name?" You ask with a tired sigh. he grins once more.

"I'm Yuji! you're pretty."

you chuckle, ruffling the kids pink hair fondly. Something about this situation told you this little boy and his unnamed guardian were gonna bring something totally new to your life.

----

not proofread