#let's make this last forever and another one after that

[the-fanss]

Threads - Part 1

Saja boys x Soulmate! Reader

Ever since I can remember, I have been able to see threads connecting people to each other. Jokingly as a child I would always call them 'the string of fate' but maturing is realizing that nothing like that was true. Everyone is connected in one way or another and the brighter the color, the stronger the connection to the person. Idols have thousands or millions of faint threads connected to them which is something I'm used to seeing nowadays especially working as an event manager for music shows.

"The girls just finished their last song and should be coming below stage in just a moment, make sure to have water at the ready." I say talking into a small earpiece. Bobby standing next to me checking social media numbers and getting giddy about the girls' amazing show clips on tiktok. Bobby works hard but the fans work harder.

"The show went very well despite the delayed start" I say to Bobby and he looks up from his phone.

"It really did! I am so sorry for the delay earlier but the entrance was spectacular -" He starts then the elevator opens revealing the girls who are on a energy high. "Did somebody say water? Water Now!" Bobby says and immediately the girls are given water.

"Good work ladies, it's always a pleasure working with you" I say following along with the girls they all three turn and Zoey hugs onto me happy to see me again.

"(Reader) it's been so long! We haven't seen you since last tour, you've been so busy." Zoey cries hugging onto my arm. I've worked closely to them for the past 5 years since their debut and it's been a pleasure and working in this field I have met enough idols who are very entitled; thankfully the girls haven't let the fame get to their heads too much... besides not taking breaks.

"I'm so sorry Zoey, things have been crazy with scheduling events. You guys are about to be on break after tonight so how about we do something then?" I respond smiling slightly.

Zoey perks up at that and me saying that catches Mira and Rumi's attention as well. "Would you be open to going to the bathhouse or a movie night at ours?" Mira asks letting exhaustion seep through a bit.

"Yeah please have a movie night with us (Reader) we haven't seen you in forever" Rumi starts seeming to be in a very energetic mood despite having just performed.

"Well I can send you guys my free time so we can set something up" I say laughing a bit. "But I have to go now and make sure everyone leaves the stadium and head home."

"Bye (Reader)!" All of them say as I walk away and I wave saying goodbye to the girls and Bobby.

Finally done, I can finally relax at home and not have to worry about any fans or managers trying to schedule music events or anything of the sort. 'I should take a small vacation' I think to myself walking to a corner store to get a small treat after working hard the past week. It is the start of summer so a bunch of idol groups are debuting and releasing albums for a "hot summer song" and because of that I've been working overtime many nights and just need a break at this point.

Leaving the store I am just scrolling through my phone while walking and I accidentally bump into someone's shoulder causing me to drop my phone and managing to throw the other person off balance a bit. "Oh my god I am so sorry... sir.." I say trailing off as I look up and see that the person in front of me is fairly attractive. Light blue hair, baby face, twink build, but very sharp eyes. However, what caught my eyes at first sight is that he doesn't have threads... none at all. None that are faint in color or anything, just nothing. He looks at me sort of in a daze and shakes himself out of it as if he remembered something.

"Yeah pay more attention next time" He says and starts walking off,

It does take me by surprise a bit but whatever, the people you meet at night on the street won't always be the nicest. Shaking off the interaction is easy but shaking off the fact that there were no threads is harder, that isn't normal. It's as if he is a clean slate of nothing. Maybe he just moved to the area but even then he would still have faint ties...

As I walk away I don't notice the man's eyes following me as I am lost in thought about the very brief interaction. Nor do i notice how there is a change in his eyes, a very brief flash of gold and slits.

DING

"Rumi... do you not know what a break is?" I say rolling my eyes at a notification on my phone about Huntrix releasing a song just now.

~Elsewhere~

"Jinu.. something interesting happened." A blue haired man says walking into a building that most definitely was not theirs earlier that night.

"How interesting is interesting" A man who is only half paying attention to the bluenette who just barged into their apartment with no warning.

"A woman bumped into me while I was out trying to figure out where you want to show us off and she smelled... off." That caught Jinu's attention. "Off how?" Jinu asked more so worried about someone catching them right off the bat.

"She had a human smell but the smell was earthly sweet in an addicting way."

"Baby, we have to stay focused. Humans smell, we are just going to have to get used to it." Jinu says relaxing a bit relieved that nothing had actually happened. However, Baby couldn't get the interaction out of his head.

Notes: Hi everyone! Thank you for reading the first chapter of this series. I have plans and I promise things are going to get moving soon. This was more so to get you familiar with you as the main character. If you want to be tagged or leave feedback please feel free to! -Luka

Taglist: @libdarkheart

[drdemonprince]

Tumblr is not letting me answer this ask so here is my response:

For whatever reason (be it personal taste, trauma response or emotional numbness that is begging to be brought outside of itself), I find that I'm most able to relax and enjoy sex when I am playing along the edges of safety and consent. An emotionally intimate, tender vanilla encounter between equals skeeves me out and brings me no pleasure. Being handled roughly, told what to do, or having a person take control (with me having to do a minimum of speaking or guiding the action) makes it possible for me to quiet my near constant drive toward micromanagement and actually participate in an emotionally authentic way in sex. Paradoxical thought it might seem, it is only by being a useful, blank fuckdoll that I can actually feel safe and bonded to someone.

That said, I do take precautions. This guy that I hooked up with in the hotel bathroom, I'd been chatting with on Discord the majority of the week. We'd met in a hypnosis hookup server that vets identities and boots *actual* consent violators, and we had matched based on the compatibility of our personal ads. We held a hypnosis session remotely over Discord days before meeting, to establish a hypnotic rapport, install some triggers, and get to know one another. All of that had gone well.

During the logistical work of actually making the hookup happen (I was busy all weekend; he's on a trip with family), he consistently behaved in a way that put up green flags: he understood my time was finite, was patient when I couldn't respond quickly, shared personal information about himself, his wife, and his family in a candid way, as well as his polyamory, encouraged me to get the rest I needed rather than running over to his hotel when I had a spare moment, and generally showed me a lot of care.

These days, I find that how a person handles communication around scheduling the encounter is the best actual gauge of how respectful and safe they will be, and crucially, how much else they have going on for them in their life. A person who is low in urgency but high in consistency, who doesn't pressure me or show resentment, who seems comfortable in themselves and will be able to move on just fine if the hookup does not happen, and who knows that they themselves are a prize and appreciate me as a full human is someone that I'm going to find the most enjoyment being a mindless, limp fuckdoll for.

Gosh, and this dude was so sweet after the hookup was over, too. I was still hanging in his arms like a rag doll and he brought me up to his eye-level to give me a kiss on the forehead and tell me that I'd done a good job, and affirmed that he'd like to see me again and make me his, but that he isn't possessive and wants me to always go out and have fun. "Nothing lasts forever, but I enjoyed this very much and I think you're very special, and I hope that we can be in one another's lives for a long time," he said. So sweet, but without being overly familiar or intense too quickly. Green green green flags.

[shield-secrets]

Told You So - Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Another fic in less than a month? Who am I? What is this insanity? Pairing: Michael Robinavitch x younger!reader Warnings: Robby's an idiot but what's new. brief mention of an injury and blood. no smut but a heaping bowl of angst. sorry not sorry. Word Count: ~5,000

You knew the end was coming long before it arrived. 

What had once been an all consuming love - the kind that people spent their whole lives wishing for but rarely ever found - went dark. 

It had started out gradually. A missed date here. A hollow smile there. So gradually you almost didn’t notice until it was too obvious to ignore. 

 Robby was the most attentive partner you'd ever had. Always bringing home a sweet treat on his way back from the hospital just because he wanted to see you smile. Planned romantic dates and did his absolute best to make sure he kept them despite his hectic schedule. Spoke of your future together like it wasn’t just a possibility - it was a certainty. 

But that all ended after 18 months. 

He started to drift away and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t pull him back. Your bones ached under the pressure of trying to resuscitate what you two had once had but it was impossible to save someone who didn’t want to be saved. 

“This isn’t working anymore” 

His words echoed through the silent kitchen, the sword that had been hanging over your head for weeks finally hitting its mark. The awareness didn’t lessen the pain though. 

Staring at the stone cold cup of coffee between your shivering hands your brain scrambled to come up with one argument - one reason to give him to stay together. A month ago you would have had a hundred. Now none remained. 

You didn’t even need to ask him why. 

It was the same reasons he’d been hesitant to act on the tension between you in the first place. The age gap. His mental health. His job. Your job. Your disapproving parents. Every time his insecurities reared their ugly heads you’d been right there to fight them off with. And for a whole year you’d managed to keep them at bay. 

Until Robby gave up. 

“Because you stopped trying” the words ripped your throat but they had to be said. Because he had to know that this was not your choice. You’d never stopped choosing him but along the way he’d stopped choosing you. What you had. The future he’d once promised. 

Letting out a bone rattling sigh he dragged his hand over his face, rubbing his lined cheeks so violently they turned pink.

“It’s not that simple” he tried but your anger returned tenfold. 

“Yes. It is” you snapped.

Your chair scraped across the wooden floor with a deafening screech as you shot up and stalked towards his bedroom, ignoring Robby’s footsteps behind as he followed. 

The overnight bag you’d unpacked 3 months ago and never taken home was snatched from the back of his closet and thrown on the unmade bed. 

“Please, don’t end things this way” Robby murmured. Pain dripped from each word but it did nothing but stoke the fire burning in your stomach. 

“I’m not. You are” you spat, riffling through his drawers in search of every scrap of clothing you’d stored there, naively thinking that this might be their home forever. That it might be yours. “You are throwing this away, you know that right? I get it. Your life is hard. Your job is hard. You’ve been through things I can’t even imagine but instead of doing anything to heal you’re letting it consume you. Consume us” 

The words tumbled out, an endless stream of every thought you’d had over the last month but refused to speak. Refused to acknowledge because if you did it was real. It was over. And the one person you’d thought would never hurt you had broken your heart beyond repair.  “Do you know how selfish that is?” 

Steeling your shaking nerves you dared to look back at him. Hunched in the corner of the room he stared back, body withdrawn with tears trickling down his cheeks. But any hope you had that he might change his mind died when he nodded. 

“I know” 

“Fucking coward” 

Your words were as sharp as a knife between his ribs. All the worst things he’d thought about himself couldn’t compare to the pain of hearing that from you. 

The one good thing in his life. 

The single point of happiness in his existence. 

Which was exactly why he was letting you go. 

The darkness consumed everything eventually. He’d lost girlfriends, friends, even his love for his job. But ever the glutton for punishment he wouldn’t leave. Because if he wasn’t helping people he wasn’t worth anything at all. 

And so he had to set you free before he dragged you down with him. 

Angels didn’t belong with devils. 

Leaving anything that could be easily replaced you threw the duffle bag over your shoulder and stormed out of the bedroom without a backwards look, eyes focussed on the door to the apartment because if you dared look at the place you’d called home all the tears stinging the back of your eyes would pour down your face. And you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. If he was going to throw your relationship away like it was nothing then you’d do the same. 

“I’m sorry” 

The whisper halted your steps just as your hand landed on the door handle. 

You wanted to run; to get out of there as quickly as possible. But they would not be the last words Michael Robinavitch spoke to you. An apology that never should have been necesary.

Taking a breath you allowed yourself to turn and take a second to memorise his face. The brown eyes that could melt your heart or set a fire between your legs. The lips you’d kissed a thousand times. The shoulders that had carried you in your weakest moments. The hands you’d never hold again. Meeting his eyes for one final time your lips twitched into an expression half smile and half snarl. 

“You’re going to regret this” 

Honestly you had no idea how idea how he was going to respond to the final dig. You definitely hadn’t expected - 

“I know” 

2 years later....

Robby never really recovered from losing you. 

In the moment he’d considered it some kind of mercy - freeing you from an aging man who had nothing good to offer - but over time he’d come to realise just how short sighted he’d been.

Jack had allowed him to wallow for 4 months; checking in on him at home, bringing him food ‘just like his ma used to make' or texting him in the early hours of the morning with a tongue in cheek ‘you still alive?’.

But when he’d caught Robby standing just a little too close to the edge of the roof one too many times he’d decided that enough was enough and dragged him to his therapist’s office. Literally. Thankfully there were 3 psychiatrists working so he didn’t have to share a secret keeper with his best friend, but every session had been like pulling teeth. 

It wasn’t just the fact that he hated any form of vulnerability, although that was awful. The worst part was that every time he walked out of the office feeling a fraction lighter it would instantly be replaced with guilt.

He should have done this for you. 

Talking with Dr Reid was proof that he could do it. 

So why hadn’t he even tried when it might have meant that he could keep you? 

2 years after the breakup the staff at the Pitt still treated him differently. Had more patience than they used to, shared less about their personal lives with him as if someone else finding love would crack open that wound in his chest (it did, but he liked to think he was a good enough actor to hide the pain). He was never on their little post-it notes, a ghost walking through the ED that clearly didn’t want to be there but had nowhere else to go. 

Even with only a few hours left on his shift Robby couldn’t muster any excitement at the prospect of his 4 days off. His new apartment wasn’t home yet. Moving hadn't been in his plan but after you walked out that day each time he looked around he’d see shadows of you, be hit with memories of the times you curled up together on the couch, made the world’s worst pancakes in the kitchen, shared showers that continued into the bedroom. He’d let you go but you still haunted him every day. 

The new place and furniture helped a little, but mostly it reminded him of the giant you-shaped hole in his life. The one that would never be filled again. 

He’d seen on Instagram that you’d left Pittsburgh for Los Angeles after getting some fancy job at a big law firm. He hadn’t liked the post. In fact he’d removed you from his friends, your privacy settings keeping him from checking in on the life he should have be a part of. 

Thursdays were by far the worst day at the office. Expense reports were due, meetings almost always ran late and it seemed to be that every one lost their freaking minds in anticipation of the end of the week. Which was how it happened that one of the interns, a nervous little thing that reminded you so much of Whittaker it made your heart squeeze, had dropped a knife into the sink while you were cleaning your lunch container, resulting in a four inch gash in your forearm. 

Gritting your teeth though the pain you insisted that it was fine. Partly out of kindness because the kid really didn’t mean any harm but also so that he would stop crying in the middle of the lunch room. He really needed to calm down - you were the one who was bleeding into a green and white striped tea towel after all.

All the commotion summoned your boss who took one look at the injury and immediately ordered you to get down the nearest hospital and have it stitched up. Any argument you may have given died on your tongue because how could you explain that your ex-boyfriend, the man you’d thought you’d marry one day, worked there and even after 2 years apart you still didn’t think you were ready to face him? Letting your co-workers into the messy history that was you and Robby was not an option. So you swallowed your pride, gripped the towel tighter around your arm and prayed to every single deity that you could name that he wouldn’t be on shift by the time you got there. 

The door to the staff room clicked softly behind him as Robby walked towards the Hub. Slower shifts were both a blessing and a curse. Opportunities to go to the bathroom or grab a snack would always be appreciated but it meant that every tick of the clock stretched into an age. 

“Nearly there, boss” Dana said as he slapped his palms down on the laminate counter. 

“What have you got for me?” his brown eyes slid up to the boards but the Charge Nurse jumped in before he could read the names listed on the screen. 

“Lacerated arm in bed 6” 

A thick eyebrow quirked in question. Normally that kind of injury would be taken care of by triage. “It’s a bleeder. And McKay’s down a med student. Figured you wouldn’t mind” 

There was something else shining in her eyes that he couldn’t name but he was too tired to argue. And if she was telling the truth his patient might have hit an artery and be at risk of significant blood loss.  

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh Robby grabbed the tablet that she handed him (upside down for whatever reason) and headed over the Bay 6. 

“Good afternoon, what seemed to be the problem?” 

Pulling the curtain back he finally raised his eyes from the loading screen to greet his patient. 

And promptly died. 

Because that was the only reasonable explanation as to why you of all people were sitting in his ED with a blood stained towel wrapped around your arm. 

“Hi, Robby” you managed with a weak smile even as that fissure under your sternum opened up again. 

“Uh - hi” he wheezed out as his brain desperately tried to catch up with what he was seeing. 

You. In Pittsburgh. Not Los Angeles. 

You. Ashen and quivering while more scarlet blood soaked the makeshift bandage. 

“I know this is a lot for both of us but do you mind? I’m starting to feel kind of dizzy” you chuckled weakly, gesturing to the injured. 

“Fuck. Yes, of course” 

Heat flooded his cheeks and he finally pulled up your patient profile and read through the notes, desperately ignoring the lurch of his treacherous heart when he saw that your last name hadn’t changed. Seeing anything other than Robinavitch next to it might actually be the end of him. “How’d this happen?” he asked, completely abandoning the glowing device as he snapped on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. 

“Overly nervous legal secretary threw a knife into the sink while I was washing my lunch container. Got me pretty good” 

The words twisted into a hiss as he pulled the fabric away from the wound. A slow trickle of blood immediately ran down your arm but Robby was quick to wipe it away with a wad of clean gauze. 

“You sure it wasn’t a planned hit orchestrated by a jealous attorney to steal your fancy corner office?” he asked with a soft laugh, his heart lumping as he pressed against your arm. He wasn't hallucinating.

“Still no corner office for me” you sighed, keeping your eyes on the wound and not the man who you’d never expected to see again. Pittsburgh was a big city. If not for bloody Jeremiah you might have avoided ever running into him again. “But at least it’s not the one with the thermostat panel. Jenny has to shoo them away with a broom in summer”

Silence fell over the two of you as he prepped a tray of instruments. “What’s the diagnosis, doc? Am I going to lose the arm?” 

All the nights he’d dreamed about seeing you again he’d never imagined you smiling let alone joking with him. He didn’t deserve it after the way he’d ended things. Frankly if you wanted to beat his head in with a baseball bat he’d lie back and take his punishment. 

“It’s deep but you’ll be fine. No need to start sewing the sleeves shut on any of your clothes” 

“I’m glad to hear it. Just got a new silk blouse"

He walked you through the procedure, the anaesthetic, how many stitches it would take to close the wound and how best to care for it until it healed but you only half listened, the rest of your brain too busy watching how his lips formed the words. How he waved his hands around as he explained everything and the subtle blush creeping up the collar of his black scrubs. 

He was nervous. 

Maybe you would have been too if your arm wasn’t throbbing with pain and it didn’t feel like your insides had been ripped out of your mouth. 

This was not how you’d imagined seeing him again. The dream had been to run into him on the way to some fancy event with your hair perfectly styled wearing an outfit that made him not only weak at the knees but rue the day he destroyed the best thing in either of your lives. Not bloodstained and shivering. 

“So, how long have you been back in Pittsburgh?” he asked after the numbing injection had taken effect. 

“Just 5 months. The firm was setting up a new office here and they knew my parents live here. Thought I was a good fit” 

Robby kept his eyes on the needle and thread so you didn’t see the way his mouth ticked down with disappointment. 

5 whole months and you hadn’t reached out? Not that he would have deserved it but in his rarer, more hopeful moments, he’d imagined you reaching out to clear the air. Things may not have worked out but you never stopped being one of his favourite people. 

“Your mom must love that” 

“She made no efforts to hide her excitement” you agreed with a laugh. “I hadn’t even unpacked the first box and there was a huge bouquet of peonies on the porch” 

Peonies. The flowers you’d always imagined holding as you walked down the aisle. To him.

“That sharp?” Robby asked softly, steadying your right forearm with one hand and carefully pressing the tip of the needle to the edge of the gash with the other. 

“No” you murmured.

With the finesse of a plastic surgeon Robby began his work, gently guiding the needle through your flesh before crossing to the other side. You watched for a moment but the visual turned your already twisted stomach so instead turned your attention to the blue and white curtain hiding the two of you from view. 

“So. I think this is the part where I ask you how you’ve been” you murmured. 

“Fine” his answer came too quickly to be true but deciding it was best not to question the person sewing you back together you let it slide. “You?”

“Good. Work’s been busy. You know, the move and other life things” 

Robby would have given anything to know the intricacies of your life in the 24 months you’d been apart. Had you reconciled with your sister? Had your little blue Jetta finally given up the ghost after breaking down no less than 6 times while you were together? Did your new house have a dog in it? 

You’d always wanted a dog - even begged him to let you have one in the apartment but he’d insisted that it would be too much work and unfair to keep them cooped up in a tiny box all day with no permanent yard to enjoy. The thought that you were fulfilling your dreams without him had his blood running cold. 

He should have got the damned dog. 

Silence descended as he continued to stitch the wound closed. A thousand questions bubbled up his throat all at once, rendering him mute. If only he’d been able to prepare himself for this. He might have handled it like his old self - the version of Robby you first fell in love with. 

But he wasn’t that man anymore. He’d made sure of that. 

“Did you see the Penguins game last night?” your voice was soft and slightly unsure and Robby felt that knot of tension at his throat loosen slightly. 

“Absolute tragedy. I don’t know who they got to ref that game but they clearly need to have their eyes checked”

“Right? I nearly threw the remote through the TV” 

The laugh that rumbled through his chest was so warm his heart lurched. 

You hadn’t given two shits about hockey before you’d met. In fact it had been such a point of contention that for your 5th date he’d taken you to a game, insisting that if this relationship was going to have any longevity you had to learn to at least appreciate the art form that was ice hockey. Eventually you’d warmed to it, sitting next to him on the couch with cold beers and making commentary that mostly matched what was actually happening on the screen. 

The fact that you still watched it sent a tiny spark of hope through his ribs. 

Surely if you hated him with the fire of a thousand suns, which he would totally deserve, you wouldn’t still be following the team that he’d introduced you to. 

Maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny thread of hope that he might have a chance to fix what he broke. And sneaking a peak at your eyes he didn’t find any of the anger he expected. It was something deeper, something sadder but as his therapist would tell him sadness didn’t last forever. 

The question was just forming on the tip of his tongue when the squeal of shoes on linoleum shot through the bay. 

“Oh my god!” 

An incredibly flustered man barrelled past the curtain, almost tripping over the foot of Robby’s stool. Thankfully he’d just finished a stitch and the jostle didn’t have him puncturing your skin. If the man noticed he didn’t apologise, rushing past to sit in the visitors chair by your side. “I just got back from the meeting and they said Jeremiah stabbed you??” 

“It was an accident in the kitchen. I’m fine, really” you reassured him, your voice instantly dropped into that soothing tone Robby recognised so well. It was the same one you’d used with him when he woke up in a cold sweat before dawn or sobbed in your arms when a case went badly. 

“Stabbed is not ‘fine’” the man corrected as Robby tied the final stitch and finally looked at the gatecrasher of his precious reunion. Everything about him screamed money. Not in a gaudy, flashy kind of way but that level of chic that looked effortless despite a no doubt very high amount of effort. His navy suit was impeccably tailored to his lithe body and the camel coat draped over his arm probably cost more than Robby's rent. He must be a lawyer at your firm. His silver streaked hair was too well styled for someone who worked with his hands. Probably one of the partners just coming to make sure she wasn't going to sue them or Jeremiah. “Thank you so much for taking care of her” the man smiled, green eyes twinkling even in the unforgiving hospital fluorescents. 

“Just doing my job” Robby said, still wishing the guy would get the fuck out of the room. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Stephen, this is Dr Robinavitch. Stephen is my fiancé” 

The coat you’d had draped over you left hand shifted, allowing the lights to hit the rock weighing down your left hand. 

The entire world pitched to the side as Robby tried to stay seated and not collapse onto the ground like a Victorian widow. 

Fiancé. 

Fiancé. 

The word echoed around his skull like a cannonball. 

You were getting married. And to a man who, if Robby’s guess was accurate, wasn’t that much younger than him. 

He’d let you go so that you didn’t tether yourself to a decrepit old man and you’d gone and fucking done it anyway. 

“I really appreciate everything you ED doctors do for us” Stephen smiled as if Robby’s entire world wasn’t crashing down around him. “If everyone who graduated med school went into private practice we’d be screwed” 

It would be a refreshing opinion, if it wasn’t being given by the worst people in the world. 

Deep down Robby knew it was childish. If you were marrying him there must be more to him than the money - you’d never been bothered by wealth. The fact that you’d been willing to spend the rest of your life with him was proof enough of that. 

You watched as Robby tried to keep the shock off his face but those brown eyes were laser focussed on the diamond flashing rainbow on your left hand. It had been on your finger for 3 months and even you hadn’t acclimatised yet. After the break up you’d never imaged someone else might want to give you an engagement ring one day. 

But Stephen was the best thing you’d never expected. He'd crashed into your life and shown you what it was like to be loved. Really, truly loved without letting his ego get in the way.

Clearing his throat Robby managed to fix the world’s fakest smile to his face. 

“Well you’re all set here. Come back in a week to have the stitches taken out then just keep it clean and out of the sun. When it’s all closed and settled you can start scar therapy if you like” 

You smiled and nodded, perfectly aware that you'd never be setting foot into the Pitt ever again.

“Honey, would you mind getting me a soda from the machine? I'm still feeling a little light headed” 

It was a lie, in fact you felt surprisingly fine for someone who’d not only been stabbed but also blindsided by her ex-boyfriend. But despite everything you didn’t want your last memory of Robby to be him glaring daggers at her fiancé in that incredibly subtle way that was so him in made your skin burn. 

“Of course, sweetheart" Stephen smiled. "Lemonade?” 

“Perfect” 

Stephen leant down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and out the corner of your eye you clocked Robby’s hands clenching into fists on his cargo pants. 

Your fiancé swept passed the curtain and the air instantly thickened with electricity crackling between you.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say, even the urge to apologise momentarily bubbled up your throat, but you kept your lips sealed, refusing to break the tension first. If he wanted answers he had to ask the hard questions. 

“How long?” 

“Nearly a year” you replied, voice husky with something that sounded terrifyingly like guilt. 

“And you’re already engaged?” he snapped, brown eyes flashing.

“Some people know not to fuck around when they’ve found a good thing” 

Robby sucked in a breath. The blow had hit its target and just as quickly as the satisfaction bloomed in your chest it was replaced by revulsion. 

Yes, he’d been an asshole but kicking him when he was down wasn’t going to change anything. Wouldn’t make what he did any better. 

“I - I wanted to tell you. But you unfollowed me on instagram so I assumed you’d blocked my number too” 

“I’d never block you” he whispered as hot tears prickled his eyes. 

“Robby?” 

Eyes burning he raised his head. 

A small, angry part of him expected to see triumph of your face. A self satisfied smugness because you’d won. You'd moved on, were marrying a man with more money than he could ever dream of, and he was exactly the same. Slowly withering away in the depths of the Pitt. But instead of victory, all he found was unrestrained devastation. The lights caught the shimmer of tears welling along your lash line as you gave him a weak shrug. 

“I told you so” 

Robby dropped his head in a nod but by the time he looked back up you were gone and he was alone. 

Again. 

[a-sweeter-sin]

Dull Ache

-Harry Lewis x reader

-Her

Some mornings still start with him

The kettle boils. The toast seemingly takes forever to pop. And in the quiet, I hear his laugh, that gravelly sound, the one that was always too loud for the room. I sit at the kitchen table, legs tucked beneath me, it’s old mahogany, we bought it at an antique store together. Steam curls up from my mug, like smoke from a slow-burning fire.

It’s been ten months and twenty seven days.

Not that I’ve been keeping count.

I take the long route to work, my original path passes the bookshop. Our bookshop. The one with the twisting stairs, slanted bookshelves, the crooked cat and the owner who always smelled like dust and bergamot. We used to go there on Saturdays, sometimes after a night out when we didn’t want to talk too much. He’d pick out a poetry book at random, flip it open and read the strangest lines he could find in a posh accent until I was doubled over in laughter.

He told me he could fall in love with me in a library. I think he did.

I think I did, too.

-Harry

It’s the small things that cut deep.

This morning, someone in the coffee shop was wearing her perfume. Not just something like it. Hers. That haunting, deep vanilla, caramel, and cigarette sweetness she always carried. A comforting sickly sweetness that clung to her skin. My hand clenched around the mug before I knew what I was doing.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her, yet these are the kind of lies I swallow down. Push away.

I walk past her old tube stop on the way to work. The tiles still cracked. The adverts still peeling. She used to leave me voice notes while waiting, rambling nonsense, or even quoting poetry, something she’d recently read. I’d smile like a fool listening, no matter where I was, pretending I hated how dramatic she was. I never hated it. I loved it more than she knew. More than I could handle.

And that’s the truth of it: I couldn’t handle her love. Not all of it. Not then. Not when it asked for all of me in return.

-Her

It rained hard yesterday.

The kind of rain that pounds down, makes the world feel lonely, all glassy streets and grey breath. My umbrella flipped inside out as I turned a corner, metal limbs snapping like broken wings.

Just like that, I was back there. Another storm. Another street. Him by my side, the both of us drenched, his umbrella useless, our clothes soaked through.

He found a newspaper, held it over my head, laughing like an idiot. It only worked for a moment.

I laughed then.

Now, I just stood, wet, still, the rain beating down on me as I tried to push him from my mind.

-Harry

I keep my coat zipped up, even as the weather turns warm.

She used to say I never dressed properly for the weather. Always too hot, or too cold. I never listened. Not really. But she’d tug at my sleeves anyway, pulling them down over my wrists, as the wind was biting, tuck her hands into mine as if she were trying to fix something broken.

Sometimes I still wear the jumper she knitted me one Christmas. She made it while it was a hobbie of hers. It falls a little short on the arms, and sits all wonky at my waist. But it holds a lingering scent of caramel, and of her.

I went down near Soho last Sunday. Thought I’d pick up some flowers for the flat, in the hope of making it feel less drab and graveyard-ish. There was this stall with tulips. She used to call them ‘shamelessly sappy’, said they looked like they didn’t care how romantical they were.

In the aftermath of a fight, she once brought a whole bouquet to my place. Said, “if we’re going to fight, let’s be sure to make the aftermath pretty.” I’d laughed at her, I didn’t realise she meant it.

-Her

Every now and then he’d carry around a camera.

A ridiculous, clunky old thing with chipped leather and several dents. He said these newer digital ones were too sterile, “memories should be grainy,” he told me, “like old dreams.”

I found one of his prints the other day while clearing out a drawer. A photo of me from the side, taken while I was getting ready in the morning, standing barefoot on the tile, the light streaming in through the window. My spine curved like a cat stretching, nightdress starting to slip off one shoulder. I stared at it for a long time.

I looked so…calm. So unaware.

There was a time I trusted him with everything. My body. My secrets. My insecurities.

-Harry

I don’t take many pictures anymore.

There’s no one to capture in the lens. No one who understands that I don’t want smiles, I want moments. She used to get that. She hated posed pictures. She’d say, “don’t capture me perfect. Capture me real.”

I still have the ones she took of me. One where I’m mid-yawn, sprawled out along her sofa, a coffee half balanced on my stomach. Another where I’m cooking shirtless, some pasta dish. She told me I looked all scruffy, like a tragic husband in a French indie film.

I haven’t deleted them. Can’t bring myself to.

I told myself I’ve moved on, I’m past it. But truthfully, I’m still stuck somewhere in those photographs. Between frames. Between moments. Between Her.

-Her

I see him during the winter.

It’s always the winter. When the streets turn all silver, crystallised, and the evenings swallow you earlier than expected. We used to walk for miles just to talk. Layers of woollen jumpers, and rain-proof coats, hands shoved in pockets, steam rising from our mouths like confession.

Back then he hated the silence. He’d fill it with silly facts, crude jokes, or awkward questions. Once asked me if I believed in parallel universes. I said no, but I now secretly hope there’s one out there where we got it right.

He made me laugh, even when I didn’t want to. Kissed at the corners of my eyes when I cried. He was the first man I ever let see me fall apart.

I wish he hadn’t watched so closely. I wish he hadn’t known where the cracks were.

-Harry

She used to call me whenever she couldn’t fall asleep.

At 2AM. 3:47AM. Once at 5:14, freaked out after she had a dream where she had drowned and she was convinced it meant something. I’d always answer, even if I’d been dead asleep, I think even now I’d come when she called. It was like she lived in the in-between hours, fragile and echoing.

I liked those moments best. No pretence. No performance. Just the sound of her voice, quiet and slow, sweet, like a breeze slipping through a half-open window.

She told me before that being with me felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. Equal parts awe and fear.

I joked, “at least the view’s good.”

Back then I didn’t understand that what she meant was: she never felt entirely secure in our relationship. Safe.

-Her

I think I knew, deep down at least.

Not at first. But something shifted. He started talking differently. Laughing at things he wouldn’t have before. Pulling away from kisses too early, too quickly.

Love doesn’t just vanish, it rots. Slowly. Seeping. Quietly. One tulip petal at a time.

I remember the night I found out.

Barcelona. He was supposed to be there for work. But I got a message. A girl I wasn’t acquainted with tagged him in a photo ‘by mistake’. It was blurry, but there he was, his arms around her waist, head tilted, lips too close. I felt my stomach drop before I even clicked on it.

I think betrayal is quieter than people expect.

I didn’t scream, I didn’t key his car, or burn his things, or send her messages laced with fury. I didn’t call him, didn’t text him, didn’t wait for him to arrive home to yell at him. I just went back to my apartment.

The next day I took the Rilke book from the shelf, the one he picked out on our first trip to the bookshop, sat in the kitchen cross legged, and waited for the sun to rise.

I didn’t cry until the morning.

The sun peeked over the hillside, he still hadn’t contacted me.

I felt sick.

-Harry

It happened once. Barcelona.

The city bled wine, breathed lust. And I let myself believe that loneliness was a reputable excuse.

I didn’t plan it. It wasn’t a slow slide. It was a crash. A landslide. A mistake with a face I don’t remember and a laugh I’ll never care to hear again.

When I came home my apartment was empty. I drove to her place, and it was like she knew I was coming. I saw her waiting at the door, Rilke book in hand. Her eyes were glassy, but she pushed her shoulders back, breathing steady. She didn’t scream. Just looked at me like I was something she’d once believed in, now exposed for what I really was.

She said nothing. Threw the key to my apartment I had given her to the floor at my feet. Closed the door in my face, gently, without slamming it.

Her silence, the finalisation of it all.

That was worse than any punishment.

-Her

Sometimes I wonder what I’d say if he showed up now. Apologised. Said he’d changed. That it was a stupid mistake.

I think I’d still want to touch his face. Just once. Feel it it still fit between my hands the way it used to. But then I’d remember what he did. That night. The photograph. His silence.

I loved him more than I should have. And maybe part of me still does, like he etched his way into my heart, sunk himself deep. But I can’t just wipe the slate. Love isn’t an excuse, and I can’t excuse this betrayal. It doesn’t resurrect trust, ease the hurt.

And I’m not the girl who cries on the kitchen floor. Not anymore.

He broke something I can’t give back.

-Harry

I walk past our places on purpose now.

Like penance. Like maybe if I hurt enough, I’ll balance the scale.

She deserved better. Deserved someone who didn’t flinch at the weight of her love. Someone who knew what to do with it.

I didn’t.

I wish I knew then what I know now.

I wish I could’ve been what she deserved.

[bunniescout]

hello, NEVERMORE fandom! i’m presenting a theory of mine here. i have no idea how this long post will work, sooo… yeah. enjoy one of the crazy thoughts i had at night. -w-

the topic is how annabel died, but first i wanna talk about this panel:

we know how much miss whitlock loves playing games, and right there she implied that she was ACTING. and some time after lenore (leo) appears completely different and talking about marrying her (bring back yearning…) and how annabel wouldn’t need to live the life they had chosen for her. in my opinion? >let’s get married (or get you married) so we can run away together<

babe, i know those freaks were matching and plotting to make a WHOLE scene just to run away together on the wedding day. i know annabel used her charms on leo and he totally agreed to go along with it. FREAKS.

BUT LET’S GET BACK TO THE PANELS!!! turn theatrical with me right know okay? let’s DIVE into what i think it’s some type of foreshadowing. (about something that already happened but we didn’t see it yet)

oh lord that gun amazes me. i believe that lenore had that damn gun hidden in her clothes in the marriage day just like she did right there.

keep that in mind. and that being said:

i’m gonna be honest…. i have two options: i think about two people who got to be on the altar with annabel: leo or percy.

LIA, WHAT IF PERCY GOT IT?

(yes i remember the walking in the rose garden scene, yes leo and annabel seemed really close, and yes ira approved them but COME WITH ME RN.)

let’s say that the freaks agreed to make him win in the chess so he could marry her. and then… leo was going to appear in the “speak now or forever hold your peace” time. i don’t think that lenore would reveal herself. i think leo would appear like a jealous man who wants annabel for eternity and would threaten everyone there using the gun to capture annabel as if it were against her will.

i don’t think that they would risk having one bullet right there with lenore. but what if…

lenore had other plans?

girly was with one thing on her mind: kill percy just to make it more dramatic to the scene. help i imagine lenore being like: happy wife happy life idk? let’s really match her freak then.

and the KEY to what i’m trying to say?

SHE WASN’T GOING TO TELL ANNABEL ABOUT THAT ONE BULLET.

her own thought was to kill percy so people could focus on another thing, and it could be more easy to run away. but what if an accident happens? and the bullet hits the wrong person? well, we know the rest…

bruh, annabel seems >REALLY< concerned and she is even crying right here. look at her hands. seems like a “calm down” to me. imagine girly realizing THERE WAS a bullet and the intention to make someone not get away alive that day.

STILL THEATRICAL??? I HOPE SOOOO !!!!

those scenes intrigue me the most:

this is the foreshadowing i was talking about. let’s portray prospero here being percy. look at how lenore is being portrayed, look at the positions in the second panel. how lenore is far away from annabel, how prospero is close to her and holding her.

remember how i said annabel seemed REALLY concerned about percy being killed? now read the lines at the last panels up here again. crazy leo would be like:

what? why tf is she concerned? doesn’t she love me the most? why worry about that boy she doesn’t wanna even get married to?

LOOK AT HER FACE!!!!!

my crazy theatrical head can easily portray annabel right here with her wedding dress, prospero being percy (LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE), and crazy leo ofc.

LIA, WHAT IF LEO GOT IT?

remember what i told you to keep in mind? let’s stick with the whole -i have one bullet and i’m not gonna tell annabel- thing. but this time let’s say LENORE HID THE WHOLE GUN FROM ANNABEL. just for precaution ^_^

but what if percy discovered them? i don’t know how, but let’s say he saw something he wasn’t supposed to ON the wedding day. maybe he saw them talking? what if he heard annabel calling her “lenore” instead of “leo”

what if percy showed up right at the “speak now or forever hold your peace” moment and told everyone the truth? i can’t add more panels, but picture again the one where leo is holding the gun with the finger on the trigger and bride annabel crying.

what if lenore was screaming with percy or whoever tried to get close to her, she was ready to pull the trigger while pointing to percy. YOU CAN SEE ON THE PANEL that her finger was on the trigger; SHE WAS GOING TO PULL IT !

annabel didn’t noticed, she was too nervous.

-she can’t have a bullet with her… it’s impossible…- maybe she thought that and girly just walked in front of lenore and YEAH we know the rest.

that’s it guys hehe i’m going to sleep rn hope everyone enjoyed it >_<

[hheartsdramas]

a year of watching cdramas: my top 10-ish favorites

i discovered cdramas a little over a year ago after several years of mostly watching modern kdramas. i remember viki pushing the double a lot when it aired, so i clicked on it. and at first i was like, "wtf is this?" i mean, talk about a campy introduction. but before i knew it i was sucked in, finishing the series, and looking for another one. i've barely watched anything but costume cdramas since.

so in honor of a year-plus of cdrama watching, i thought it would be fun to make myself pick my favorites! this list could change and re-order depending on the day and on how much i love the next drama i finish (because recency bias is a thing, though i don't see my top 3 getting unseated any time soon).

honorable mentions

story of kunning palace: a natural follow-up to the double, and the first cdrama i rewatched more than once. i got...embarrassingly attached to xie wei. jiang xuening is also the kind of snarky i enjoy, and watching her constantly trying and failing to get away from the palace life was just too addicting. it's the drama that made me realize i can excuse a lot of red flags if i'm having a good time.

night of love with you: still holds the distinction of being the only romance-focused modern that i've finished. it's a sort of transmigration mini in which a career villain character ends up playing the fl in a standard ceo romance drama...but she ends up falling for the villain. fun, smart, and a delight if you're into stuff with a bit of meta.

a journey to love: the found family to end all found families, not to mention the first cdrama fl i truly fell in love with. i would rank this higher if not for the ending, which i have...opinions about. so i mostly pretend like those last few episodes don't exist and i can love ajtl unbothered.

top 10

10. the legend of shen li

a demon general who gets stuck in chicken form after trying to escape a divinely-ordered marriage. a god of the universe roleplaying a sickly human for funsies. one of the ultimate "burn the world for them" couples i've encountered so far. leads that actually feel grown up, believable stakes, communication, and a happy ending. it's practically perfect in every way.

9. legend of zang hai

i don't think this is necessarily one of the best-executed dramas on my favorites list, although it's much better executed than the trolls would have you believe. i just love a revenge quest that cares more about the people than about the revenge itself, and lozh is exactly that. plus xiao zhan is honestly hotter than i expected him to be in this and i got a stabby slinky fl.

8. lost you forever

i'll be honest: this one makes it into my top ten mostly because of one character. it's not that i didn't enjoy the drama as a whole (minus that dream fiasco at the end), because i very much did, but let's be honest: imo this is xiang liu's show, xiao yao is second lead, and the rest of them are there for color. i mostly only rewatch his/their scenes. i don't actually ship them as end game (jing was the right choice imo), but i'm still a xiang liu simp. he's just too damn tragic. but it's visually beautiful and the ost/score are magic. sometimes i listen to 爱之哀叹 (which google translate tells me means "love's lament") and 梅林同焚 (which google translate tells me means "merlin burns together" ???) when i want to feel something.

7. a moment but forever

do you like stories about broken people that question the meaning of loyalty, power, healing, and love? than boy oh boy do i have a drama for you! liu xueyi is a tour de force as the extremely traumatized high priest of the worst clan you've ever heard of, who learns to love the world again thanks to the no-nonsense goddess of craftsmanship who just won't leave him tf alone. i analyzed and meta-d more scenes in this drama than any other, i think.

6. the ingenious one

remember how i said i love revenge dramas that are interested in the human impacts of seeking vengeance? well this is probably the best version of that i've seen so far. a brainiac with no fighting skills is on a quest to avenge the massacre of his family, and along the way he meets one of my favorite fls in dramaland (stabby! sassy! grounded! complex! gets to grow!), as well as a cast of entirely lovable secondary characters that also get to be layered and real. i think this is extremely underrated and more people should watch it and talk about it.

5. under the moonlight

who needs flashy cgi or big traffic stars when you have such a down-to-earth heroine to anchor your drama? a former courtesan becomes a constable and crime-solving savant, but it doesn't feel too glossy or girl bossy. no one in this drama escapes their circumstances entirely, but it's so gratifying to watch how everyone goes about building a life they are happy to live. the main ship is also so well done, in the sense that i went from wanting to scream at the ml to melting into a puddle of goo every time the leads were on screen together. way too underrated for how good it is.

4. love in between

MY BABIES!!!! lib came out of nowhere to absolutely clobber me with feelings. believed-dead marquis's son living as a doctor reunited with the girl who gave him the will to live again when they were kids. they each have an agenda, but one of them is more willing to give theirs up than the other. two more perfect ships round out this angsty, intelligent story that made me scream and cry for all the right reasons.

3. the blossoming love

i thought i was signing up for some candy-colored silly fun. what i got was one of the smartest and tightly plotted xianxia that might exist. i love a chaos agent paired with a starchy mcstarcherston, but i love a chaos/starchy/emo shoulda-been-a-polycule even more. this one has all the tropes but uses them intelligently to weave a story that can unironically ask its characters: who are you? what is destiny? and is that paperwork really so important?

2. the untamed

i don't know what they put in this show. it's crack. it's now one of my most re-watched shows in any language and i only saw it for the first time last autumn. it's massively popular for a reason and it's not just because those boys are pretty (though they are, ridiculously so). i don't have much else to say except that if you haven't seen it yet a) where have you been and b) you should fix that.

1. joy of life

i still can't believe that the first time i tried to watch jol i dropped it after three episodes. i am constantly wowed about how this drama takes what seems to be a basic palace drama with fun characters and manages to create one of the most layered, complex, and human stories i've seen in any language or type of media. there's not a single character that doesn't get dimensions, to the point that you find yourself seriously enjoying spending time with the most twisted villains you can imagine. it somehow balances really dark shit with humor and sweetness. it surprises at every turn. it is killing me to wait for season 3.

think you know a drama that could bump something out of my top 10? i'm always open to being influenced...

[brokenchicken2]

PERFECT LIFE

Cast : Y/n, Jeon Wonwoo, Choi Seungcheol, Kwon Hoshi.

Genre : Angst, romance, smut, marriage.

Summary : Wealth, a beautiful family, loyal friendships. Y/n has it all, but will it last forever?

Warning : Minors do not interact!!

Here's the chapter 2

Chapter 3: The Deepest Cut

The house was a tomb. Y/n had spent the afternoon meticulously erasing any trace of the birthday party, packing away the streamers and balloons with a cold, robotic efficiency. She moved through the rooms, not cleaning, but purging. With every colourful remnant she stuffed into a black trash bag, she felt herself discarding another piece of the life she had once cherished. The sweet scent of leftover cake was gone, replaced by the sterile smell of antiseptic cleaner.

She didn't cry. The hollow space inside her was too vast and cold for tears. It was a vacuum where grief and love and warmth used to be. All that remained was a single, diamond-hard point of focus.

She waited.

When she heard Wonwoo's key in the lock just after six o'clock, she was sitting on the sofa in the living room. The room was dark, save for a single, stark lamp on the end table. Its light fell on the coffee table, illuminating a neat stack of papers. The top sheet read, in bold, clinical letters: PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.

Wonwoo walked in, shrugging off his jacket, a weary but placid look on his face. He was still wearing his mask of the devoted husband returning from a long day at work. The sight of her sitting there in the gloom made him pause.

"Y/n? Why are you sitting in the dark?" he asked, his voice attempting a light, casual tone. Then his eyes fell to the coffee table. The smile vanished. "What's all this?"

Y/n didn't move. She didn't even blink. She just looked at him, her gaze flat and empty. "The theatrics are over, Wonwoo," she said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. It was a stranger's voice, cold and clear. "I know about you and Chaewon."

For a moment, he froze, a deer caught in the headlights. Then, the training kicked in. The years of practice in deceit took over. He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay? You've been acting strange since the party."

It was a masterful performance. The feigned concern, the subtle gaslighting to make her question her own sanity. A day ago, it might have worked. Now, it was pathetic.

"Don't," she whispered, the word sharp enough to cut glass. "Don't insult my intelligence by lying to my face. Not anymore." She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. The sheer force of her stillness filled the room. "Hotel Ciel. Restaurant L'Étoile. The five-hundred-dollar bouquet of roses you bought last week. Do you want me to continue? I have the credit card statements. I have the dates. I have the times."

His face paled. The mask of the charming husband dissolved, revealing the cornered, panicked man beneath. He stared at her, his mouth opening and closing silently, searching for a lie that wasn't there.

"Y/n... listen," he stammered, taking a step forward. "It's not what you think. It was a mistake. A few mistakes. It meant nothing. I love you. You and me, this family, this is my life."

"Your life?" she echoed, a flicker of something dark and dangerous in her eyes. "This isn't a life. It's a stage. And you have been playing the lead role in a very long, very cruel play." She finally stood up, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator uncoiling. "We are getting a divorce. I want you out of this house. Tonight."

Panic flared in his eyes. He looked around the room, at the life he was about to lose. "No! You can't!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "You can't do this to us! You can't just throw everything away!" He took another step, his hands outstretched. "Think about Na Ri! You can't leave! What about Na Ri? She needs you!"

His words hung in the air. Y/n stared at him, a strange frown creasing her brow. Of all the arguments he could make, this one made the least sense. "What does Na Ri have to do with this?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine confusion. "She has nothing to do with your affair. I would never abandon her."

Wonwoo's desperation made him reckless. He saw her confusion as a potential opening, a way to bind her to him with a truth so monumental it would have to hold her in place. He thought it was a shield. He didn't realize it was a sword he was about to hand her.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice dropping to a raw, desperate whisper. "She's not just some child we adopted, Y/n. She's... she's the reason. She's the center of all of this. She's not just my daughter, Y/n." He finally met her eyes, his own filled with a terrible, pleading truth. "She's ours."

The room tilted. Y/n gripped the back of the sofa to steady herself, a roaring sound filling her ears. Ours? The word didn't compute. It was nonsensical. She felt a dizzying vertigo, as if the floor had dropped away from beneath her feet.

"What... what did you just say?" she breathed.

"Chaewon... she's Na Ri's biological mother," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "She couldn't raise her on her own. We... we orchestrated the adoption so she could have a good life. With you. I knew you'd be the perfect mother for her."

The perfect mother. For their child. The roaring in Y/n's ears intensified. The carefully constructed walls of her composure began to crack. She looked at Wonwoo, at this man she had loved, this man who had fathered a child with her best friend and then placed that child in her arms, letting her fall in love, letting her build her entire world around their secret. The cruelty of it was bottomless. It was a betrayal so profound it defied comprehension.

Her mind, reeling from the impact, began to race, tumbling back through time. A new, far more horrific thought began to form, a sliver of ice in the chaos. Her fall. The miscarriage. The day she had lost her own baby.

She remembered it with horrifying clarity. She had been carrying a heavy laundry basket down the stairs. Chaewon had been visiting. Chaewon had been walking behind her, telling her a story, making her laugh. And then, a sudden, sharp pain at her ankle, a tangle of feet. A scream. A dizzying, terrifying tumble into darkness. The doctors had called it a tragic, unlucky accident.

She looked at Wonwoo, her eyes wide with a dawning horror that was even greater than what she had felt a moment before. "My fall," she whispered, the words barely audible. "The day I lost the baby. Chaewon was there. She was right behind me."

Wonwoo's face crumbled. The last of his defenses washed away, leaving only the raw, ugly truth. He couldn't meet her gaze. He stared at the floor, his body shaking with silent sobs. His silence was her answer.

"Tell me," Y/n commanded, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper.

"She didn't mean to hurt you that badly," he choked out, the words of a coward. "You had just told us you were pregnant. She was jealous. Devastated. She knew I'd never leave you then. She just wanted to... to stop it. She tripped you. She said it was an accident, that she barely touched you, but... it worked. And after... when the doctors said you probably couldn't have any more... it was her idea. To give Na Ri to you. It was a way for everyone to get what they wanted. She would know her daughter was safe, I would have you both, and you... you would get to be a mother."

He looked up at her, his face streaked with tears, as if expecting her to understand this twisted, monstrous logic. As if this confession were some kind of appeal for mercy.

But he wasn't looking at Y/n anymore. The woman he knew—the kind, gentle, forgiving Y/n—was gone. She had died in that moment, right there in the dimly lit living room. In her place was something new. Something forged in the absolute zero of betrayal.

A sound escaped her lips. It wasn't a sob. It wasn't a scream.

It was a laugh.

A low, chilling, utterly broken sound that echoed in the silent room. It was the sound of a heart shattering and reforming into something sharp and cold. The laugh grew louder, tinged with a terrifying hysteria. It was the laugh of a woman who had lost everything and therefore had nothing left to fear.

The sound terrified Wonwoo more than any scream could have. He stared at her, his eyes wide with fear. This was not his wife. This was a stranger.

Y/n's laughter finally subsided, leaving an unnerving silence in its wake. She looked at him, and for the first time, he saw the bottomless abyss that had opened up behind her eyes. Her face was a placid mask, but her eyes were burning.

"Get out," she whispered.

"Y/n, please..."

"Get. Out."

He finally stumbled back, grabbing his jacket and his keys, fumbling with the lock on the front door like a frightened animal. He fled from the house, from the woman he had created.

Y/n stood alone in the silence, her arms wrapped around her own waist. The pain was a physical presence, a shard of ice lodged deep in her chest. But it was no longer just pain. It was fuel. It was purpose. She thought of Chaewon's comforting arm around her shoulder. She thought of Wonwoo's gentle lies. She thought of the life they had stolen from her, the child they had killed, the daughter they had used as a pawn.

A single tear, hot and final, traced a path down her cold cheek. It was the last tear she would ever shed for them.

"You will both pay for this," she whispered to the empty room, her voice a vow, a curse, a promise. "I will burn your world to the ground."

Chapter 4

To be continued...

[runningoutofink8]

something for us averyjameson

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a/n: okay i might be biased considering i'm the author but i'm pretty sure this is kind of adorable. i LOVE playlists so much, and thats what this fic is based on, and i tried getting as many of the fandoms opinions in there as possible x pairings: averyjameson wc: 1.1k synopsis: avery and jameson made a playlist to prove who really has the better music taste — but secretly, it’s just an excuse to throw shade, laugh, get their mind of things and maybe read into intentionally picked song titles. tag list: @xo-zozo @laurilovesbooks @lyrrrr @fireflye @thechildofshadows @7975348473 @saythewordheiress @ellachandesu @tobyspalindrome

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avery lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. the shadows cast by the blinds made quiet stripes over her bare arms, soft in the low lamplight beside the bed. jameson shifted next to her, one hand tucked under his head, the other tracing lazy patterns across her stomach beneath the hem of his t-shirt she was wearing.

neither of them had said much for a while. the house was still, the kind of quiet that only crept in past midnight. they had both tried sleeping, and both given up. her thoughts were too loud. his energy too restless.

avery took out her phone and set her brightness on the lowest setting. she got a notification from max to a playlist she had just made.

"max just sent another playlist into the group" she announced, squinting at the screen.

"title please." he turned his face into the pillow.

"songs for when you accidentally fall in love with your arch nemesis (and she's hot)" avery read with a straight face.

"of course. what's on it?" jameson asked, laughing into the pillow.

" ballad of a homeschool girl, making the bed, girl i've always been- okay so basically just olivia rodrigo." she recited.

"okay so i know like one olivia rodrigo song, and it's the angry one."

"that's all of them." avery responded without missing a beat, typing on her phone. jameson snorted.

"what are you doing?" jameson asked, after a few beats.

"we should make a playlist." she replied, scrolling through max's selection of songs.

"we?"

"you know, something for us, about us. by us."

"inspirational."

"oh shut up. this is your chance to prove that you have, quote on quote, 'superior music taste.'"

"i do, let's do it." he replied, a grin forming on his face as they both sat up on the bed, jameson turning on the lamp.

"we need a temporary title, i don't have the energy to come up with something clever. what does libby call us again?"

"javery. she thinks she's clever." avery snorted and typed in 'javery'.

"okayy, first song. hit me." avery told him, looking up from her phone. jameson grabbed her laptop from the bedside table, logged into spotify and added the first song to the playlist.

"the last great american dynasty," avery smiled, "insightful."

"i try," he replied, "your turn." she looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. jameson waited a good twenty seconds before saying "okay, ave, if you're going to take this long for every song we're going to be here forever."

"oh shush," she rolled her eyes and added 'i wanna be yours' by arctic monkeys to the playlist. jameson glanced at her, a slow smile forming.

"don't read into the names of the songs and get cocky, they're just titles."

"me? never." but he was absolutely reading into it, and they both knew it. avery rolled her eyes at his response. they kept taking turns, tossing titles back and forth like a game. some were teasing. some made one of them pause a little too long before hitting add.

death by a thousand cuts. why'd you only call me when you're high. wonderland. i know places. getaway car. red.

"that is a lot of taylor swift." avery said, scrolling throught the songs they had added.

"not enough if you ask me." jameson replied, smirking. he added 'mastermind'. avery looked at him approvingly.

"it's a very you song." he responded, shrugging, looking through taylor swift's discography.

he spotted 'olivia rodrigo' under the song name 'so american' and asked,

"is that an angry song?" his voice sounded almost alarmed. avery snorted.

"no, that's her only happy love song."

"are you sure? if you're mad at me-"

“i promise i’m not mad at you,” she said, laughing softly. “just listen.”

she hit play. the song filled the quiet space between them—bright, easy, unguarded. avery watched him as the chorus came through, his expression softening slowly, a little tilt to his mouth like he was trying not to smile.

"and he laughs at all my jokes."

"oh god, i'm going to marry him if he keeps this shit up."

jameson threw a pointed look at her and she blushed lightly, rolling her eyes.

"don't read into it." she said, fighting a smile.

"i mean i wouldn't be opposed." he said under his breath smiling, while she looked for more songs.

people watching. renegade. until i found you

"didn't we dance to that in that restaurant in paris?" avery asked, smiling. jameson nodded, kissing her forehead.

invisible string. mine. enchanted.

"no put the older version of enchanted, it's so much better." avery demanded.

"isn't that unsupportive of taylor?" jameson asked, smirking.

"it's my guilty pleasure, and not since independence day so sod off." avery rolled her eyes.

"wait have we added so high school yet?" avery asked.

"nope. added." jameson confirmed.

"yay!" jameson chuckled.

florida!!! sparks fly. national anthem. hymn for the weekend

jameson hummed the bridge of 'hymn for the weekend' melodically.

call it what you want. you're on your own kid. fearless. miss americana and the heartbreak prince. only the young. the night we met. life is a highway-

"oh you've got to be kidding me. no jameson, this isn't your roadtrip playlist."

"it's one song!"

"no."

"ugh." jameson scoffed, pouting. avery laughed at his expression. after a few moments of staring at their phones, avery asked him something.

"i can't think of anymore. any closing song ideas? for now at least."

“uh nah, not really,” jameson said, his voice soft and lazy, eyes half-closed as he leaned back against the headboard.

she smiled despite herself, glancing at the clock. her eyebrows shot up. “wait—jameson. is it actually morning?”

he blinked, sat up a little straighter. “no way.” a pause. “okay—yep. it is. the sun is literally rising.”

“holy crap,” she sighed, rubbing her face. “don’t we have that thing at eight?”

“unfortunately.” he yawned, then looked over at her. “you wanna start getting ready? i’ll finish those notes from last night.”

she looked at him suspiciously. “are you being nice because you're sleepy or because you're in love with me?”

“little bit of both,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “go shower. i’ve got it.”

“you sure?”

“yep. ill meet you in the hall by seven?” he offered.

“deal.” he kissed her forehead. “love you.”

“you're ridiculously obsessed with me aren't you?” she smiled, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt as she got up. "love you too."

once she was gone, jameson took our his phone.

jameson changed the name of your shared playlist.

jameson added can't help falling in love by haley reinhart to 'something for us'.

fin

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a/n : i'll tag avery and jamesons playlist below, if you think of any songs to add, ask, dm me or reply and i will add them - i think this is such a cute idea, and i have some ideas in the future for fics relating to their playlist. (this is now actually my playlist for writing averyjameson <3 ) let me know what you think x

(something for us - avery and jamesons playlist)

xx mira

[missvelvetsstuff]

Misunderstandings & Miscommunications

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader works as an administrator for the Thunderbolts* and quickly falls for the White Wolf. The team is hesitant to trust her and drama ensues.

Note: I've tried to keep the reader neutral but she is a she and as always taller than average. I haven't seen a story like this one but haven't been able to keep up with all the new works so if it seems similar please know that's not my intention.

Anyhow, I hope y'all like it. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, swearing, cannabis use

Previous chapter

The tension was growing to a head and small arguments within the team started spilling over until they were tattling on each other to Poppy like grade schoolers.

Something needed to give but before it did, Poppy finally got a phone call "Hughie?" and left the tower quickly after hanging up.

Yelena went to follow her.

Chapter 6

Poppy quickly left the tower to meet Hughie. She took an Uber, 2 trains, a cab, and another train before walking into a diner near the New York Aquarium in Brooklyn. She chuckled to herself when she picked Yelena out of the crowd with her cap and sunglasses making a weak disguise. She knew the spy would follow her and hoped the ridiculous route she took to get where she was going had annoyed Yelena as much as it tickled her.

Poppy went inside and saw him "Hughie!" as he smiled and pulled her into a hug.

He pulled back "it's good to see you, kiddo. You look good."

Poppy smiled "You too, feels like it's been forever."

As the waitress took their order, Poppy couldn't help but chuckle at Yelena as she sat at the end of the counter. Yelena kept her head down and had a listening device in her pocket pointed in Poppys general direction.

Hughie took a drink of his coffee and Poppy saw his smile fall as he took her hand "Are you sure you're alright? I know the last few weeks have been stressful."

Poppy smiled sadly "Yeah, I'm ok. It has been rough but knowing it was necessary and temporary helps."

He turned his head slightly, towards where Yelena was sitting "Has she been like this since her great revelations about you? I'd expect better from a Widow."

They both heard Yelena scoff.

Poppy shook her head, smiling "No, she's been like this since day 1. Following me, tapping my phone and trying to find info on me. By the way, did you have my birth certificate partially redacted? She said dad's name and my place of birth were covered up."

He nodded "I did that years ago. I figured it would be safer since you insisted on working for Val. Too many questionable people working with her, like Sharon Carter and the Flag Smashers. Your dad was...let's just say an influential man, in the intelligence trade and on the enemy list of many people and governments. I'm impressed Yelena found it at all."

The waitress brought their food and they were quiet for a minute as they started eating.

Hughie restarted the conversation "How's Ava? I'm glad you have one person there that you can trust."

Poppy nodded "She's good, it's almost like the good old days when I was in college. Ava has always had my back but she's not the only one. You haven't met Bob yet."

He stared at her blankly "Bob?"

She smiled "Yes, I told you about Bob. He's the one that Val had experimented on in her effort to create new hero's. He's a bit.... off, like the rest of us but is good people."

He nodded "Right, right. Bob. Just be careful, these people are fighter's and have barely known anything else. I know you can fight but not at the level of that team. If you ever don't feel safe then let me know and get to my safehouse. Got it?"

She sighed "Yes, I've got it. We've done this with her other projects and I'm still here."

Hughie tensed "What about the broken back and 2 weeks in a coma from that Flag Smasher? You're the closest I have to my own child and I can't lose you." his voice choking up at the end.

Poppy smiled "Hey, Hughie, I'm ok and I'm being careful. Don't worry so much. I'm a fighter and keep my pistol close. " she took a sip of her tea "So, when are you coming to the Watchtower? Most of my stress will be gone once you come in and meet everyone."

She shrugged "I mean except for Val and Mel." leaning in she whispered "I don't think Val knows what Mel is up to but I found records and handwritten notes about a new serum and a super soldier breeding program." she frowned "Probably why she's so interested in Bucky."

Hughie thought for a moment before answering with a grin "You hired Jeffrey to cook for you right?"

Poppy smirked "You know I did. Tomorrow is French toast."

"Alright, I'll be there in the morning. What time do you eat?"

Poppy chuckled "Between 7 and 9 but be on time because I have to start work at 9."

He smiled "Expect me at 7, I've never been late to one of Jeffrey's meals. I'm impressed Val is paying him. Will your security let me in?"

Poppy shrugged "We don't have much security. Val thinks it's a waste of money since most of the people there are fighters but text me when you're close and I'll meet you in the lobby."

The entire time, Yelena sat at the counter slowly drinking a cup of coffee and listening to Poppy and Hughies conversation. Hughie was very familiar to her but she couldn't place him, a middle aged white man. attractive and on the short side of average height, clean shaved with salt and pepper hair. She shook her head in frustration because the conversation didn't include anything that she hadn't already found except that the man had redacted part of Poppy's birth certificate because her father had plenty of enemies. She took a picture, the best she could get while being discrete and facial recognition couldn't identify him but she had only gotten a partial of his face. She waited for them to pay and leave before dropping some bills on the counter and heading home.

When Poppy arrived back at the tower she texted Jeffrey to let him know Hughie would be there for breakfast, then she had a quick conversation with Ava before they both had some edibles and fell asleep watching Lucifer.

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

Poppy woke when her alarm went off and smiled when she remembered that Hughie was coming for breakfast. She quickly went thru her morning routine then went to hang out in the kitchen with Jeffrey.

Jeffrey looked at her, smiling. "It's nice to see you smile again, the last few weeks have been rough on all of us but you most of all. Hopefully todays guest will bring all that tension to a close."

Poppy shrugged "We'll see how it goes. I knew this would be a rough post for me but it needed to be done."

Her phone dinged and Poppy jumped down off of the counter "I have to receive our guest, be right back."

When they came back up the team was seated at the table except for Bob and Ava who were bringing the food out.

Poppy cleared her throat and the team looked up. Ava was the first to react "Hughie! It's good to see you." and hugged him.

Hughie smiled when he saw Bucky "Sargent Barnes, It's been quite awhile, good to see you."

Bucky stood and shook his hand "And you, Agent Ross. But please call me Bucky"

Hughie smiled "Of course, Bucky as long as you call me Everett. The princess sends her regards."

Bucky smiled, thinking of his friend Shuri and Poppy felt a stab of jealousy even though Shuri was a close friend to both of them and Bucky had told her all about their friendship, before things fell apart.

Alexei stood and reached to shake Hughies hand "Ross! We meet before, long time ago."

Hughie smiled "Of course, I couldn't forget the Red Guardian. Call me Everett."

Alexei winked "Hughie is only for pretty girls?"

Poppy smiled "Hughie is my dads brother Everett Ross so, Uncle Everett was U E until it ran together into Hughie. He was married to Val."

Hughie sat down and started eating "Jeffrey, you are the best chef I've ever worked with. If I could afford you I'd steal you in a heartbeat."

Jeffrey smiled "Thank you, Everett. Glad I have options when this team falls apart."

Poppy laughed as she sat next to him "You're welcome to eat with us any time you want, Hughie."

"I'll have to stop by more often, when I'm in town."

Yelena just sat and stared at them "So that's it? He's you're uncle and we're just supposed to accept what he says and trust you, Poppy?"

Poppy sighed "No, Yelena" like she was speaking to a child "Hughie is going to explain what's going on then you can decide if you trust Val more than him. He can also confirm that the BS Val told Mel, about me getting booted from the CIA for sleeping around is miles from the truth."

Yelena scoffed "Don't tell me, you were the perfect agent. No matter the truth, your uncle will want to protect you."

Hughie laughed "No, she wasn't perfect by any definition of the word. Willful and headstrong, bad at following orders but one hell of a fighter and marksman. Plus her empathy and ability to read people and figure out their con has been so helpful. We wanted someone we could get in with Val, that Val would trust, and her thinking that Poppy was booted from training and needed work was the perfect cover. Val had already helped her with school expenses so figured Poppy would remain under her thumb. Poppy has been involved in most of Val's "projects" and dealt with Mel on a number of occasions."

Yelena stared coldly "Why should we believe anything you say? Who are you?"

Hughie smiled shaking his head "Do you find Val to be trustworthy? How about Mel?"

"Mel helped Bucky find us when Val sent us to die with the evidence, she's proven herself. Poppy just doesn't like her since she's seeing Bucky."

Hughie nodded "Fair enough. What if I showed proof of Mel's duplicity? I have recordings, emails, texts and a number of documents. I can't show you everything but I have plenty that you can see."

Yelena scoffed "Easy enough to fake all of that with AI."

Bucky stopped eating to speak up "Well, Mel's on her way so we can talk to her about it. I sent her a text. I figure she's a primary player in all this so we can get her side" and returned to his meal.

Everyone was almost finished eating when Mel arrived. She gave Bucky a hug and kiss on the cheek but didn't seem to notice him subtly leaning away from her. Poppy felt her chest ache.

Mel looked at the team, smirking at Poppy "Looks like I missed breakfast" she crossed her arms over her chest "So, what's this all about." she noticed Hughie "Who's the spook?"

Hughie stood "I'm Agent Everett Ross, CIA. and Poppy's uncle"

Mel paled before checking herself and shaking his hand. "What is the CIA doing here?"

Hughie sat back down "Investigating your attempts to recreate the super soldier serum and work on a super soldier breeding program."

Mel sat down like her knees gave out and drank from a glass of orange juice that Bucky handed to her "But that, th thats all Val. She's always trying crazy shit like that."

Hughie nodded as he listened "So we can get Val here today and clear up all of the misunderstandings."

Mel looked like she was about to pass out "Oh, uh, Val, she is uh out of town for at least the next week or so. Besides she will kill me if she finds out her plans have gotten out."

Bucky glared at Mel "So those papers at your office are all Val's plans? What about the calls and messages where you browbeat people into silence with threats of Val finding out what you were doing? Or how Val isn't involved or part of the messages?"

Mel started stammering "But but Bucky, you can trust me, you know that. Remember I helped you find where she had all the evidence hidden? I led you to this team before she could kill any of you." she tried to reach for his hand but he moved away from her to sit next to Poppy, kissing her cheek as he took her hand.

Mel stood angrily, her face turning red "What's going on, Bucky? Why are you standing by her, the amoral tramp and accusing me of, what exactly are you trying to accuse me of?" she turned to leave but Ava stopped her.

Bucky scoffed "Sit down, Mel. Or whatever your real name is. What's going on is we know the truth about you."

Mel sat down, glaring at Poppy. "So Bucky, you just took me out to spy on me? And you went through my office? That's a serious violation of trust. What truth do you think you know about me?"

Bucky shook his head "The truth about who you are. About what you are." he paused for a second "What we don't know is what you've done with Mel? Is she dead?"

She looked around the table before glaring at Poppy "What kind of bullshit are you feeding them? I AM MEL. You need to explain yourself, Barnes."

He nodded, "Fine. We know that you are Skrull and have been giving your superiors information on our defenses. We know the Skrull are planning to take Earth as their home world. We know that you will give us every detail about those above you and their plans."

Mel scoffed "A Skrull? Seriously? Where is your proof?"

Bucky smirked "You don't smell like Mel. I met her awhile back at an event and we talked a bit. You ain't her."

Mel laughed but he could see the sweat beading at her temple "I don't smell like me? What is that even supposed to mean?"

"The serum that made me a super soldier also enhances my senses and everyone has their own smell. Humans and Skrull have different scents as well. I've known for quite awhile but needed evidence that you were up to something. I have enough to have you renditioned and held up for a long while but we do have a deal to offer."

Mel deflated, obviously defeated "A deal? What kind of deal?"

Hughie smiled "You're going to stay where you are and keep reporting to your superiors but you will give us every detail you know about who they are and their plans. You will also forward some information meant to muck up their operations. We might have you help with some team ops, once we know we can trust you. "

She sighed "And if I refuse?"

Poppy smirked "We'll just let Val know who you are and let her decide."

"Or I leave here, change into someone else and you never find me." Mel snarked.

Poppy chuckled "Sure but we knew that was a possibility so that OJ you drank had a nanobot tracker that will attach itself to your stomach lining and make finding you a piece of cake."

Mel shifted into her Skrull form. "Fine. What do I need to do?"

Bucky pulled Poppy closer to him and kissed her head before looking to Hughie "Need anything else from us, sir?"

Hughie smiled "No, we'll be in here for awhile to debrief "Mel". Lunch after?"

Bucky returned the smile "Sounds good. In the meantime, I need to have a talk with your niece." He turned to Poppy "Come on, Petal. I have an issue that requires your immediate attention."

@preeyas-world

[teathattast]

oh i get a feeling

when your hands in mine

the only thing that's real is

looking in your eyes

[random-autie-fangirl]

Chara: I'm wanting everything to end instantly

Asriel: And I'm wanting to go on unchanging forever

🔥🔥🔥THE BEEF WITH LINEAR TIME SIBLINGS🔥🔥🔥

[kyouka-supremacy]

I'm once again consulting you to ask

[stairset]

I had Spider-Man 2 mailed to my house when I pre-ordered it and it hasn't arrived yet so I've just been spending my entire day dodging spoilery Youtube thumbnails like Tobey Maguire dodging Green Goblin's razor bats in slo-mo in that one scene.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I'm just... I'm so angry at Square Enix right now, for them blaming Final Fantasy XVI for their loss of shares.

I could get into it, but I'm trying not to: I'm trying to breathe and calm down.

But I worry that this might not bode well for Square Enix's future, perhaps, or at least the future of the Final Fantasy series. *bites nails*

[reignpage]

Is Two Really Better Than One?

Summary: in which Nanami's wife gets hit with a curse and he comes home to two wives, not one... Warnings: smut, married couple/established relationship, f!reader, threesome, dom!nanami, mention of being used as a sex toy, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, spanking, paizuri, spitting, doggy, dual ride/double cowgirl position, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, slight size kink, slight yuri action, voyeurism/exhibitionism?, totally inaccurate use of the curse science or whatever, not proofread - like literally not at all sowwy Word Count: 4.6k

Nanami is flabbergasted. 

When he came back home after a long hard day’s work, he was impatiently waiting for his wife’s loving embrace and reviving kiss. There’s a routine you two follow and he upholds it like a knight pledging allegiance to the crown – arrive home at 6pm, you greet him, he takes a shower and changes into comfortable clothes whilst you prepare dinner, and then you dine together. He expected you to be at the front door with an excited grin and open arms, just as you did yesterday and the day before that.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was two wives waiting for him. 

“Ken! Make her go away,” you scream. 

The other you snarls, “No, you go away.”

Apparently, you’ve been hit by a spirit splitting curse – it fragmented your soul into perfect halves. There is no ‘original wife,’ just two different parts of the same woman he loves. At least, that was how Shoko explained it on the phone. How long the effects will last is indeterminable, though Nanami’s simply glad it’s a harmless consequence and not something more disastrous.

“I want her ugly ass gone, Kento,” you growl.

And other you shrieks. “Excuse me? I am literally you. If I’m ugly, so are you, idiot.”

“Yeah? Well, somehow, I’m just prettier, so suck it.”

Sitting in the living room, he loosens his tie and stares up at the ceiling. He supposes it really was just too much to ask to have peace and quiet in his life, to be able to catch up on some rest and sleep, and have dinner with his wife, his only wife. Right now, the two of you are smacking throw pillows at each other’s faces, exchanging limp blows over his body, and insulting one another.

This animosity is unfounded. She is you and you are her. You are both his wife, with the exact same body, personality, past, hopes and dreams. And yet you’re at each other’s throats like there is a long feud between your warring families. Nanami sighs again. “Please, stop fighting. Let’s just get on with our evening and wait for the effects to subside.”

Both of you press close to him, taking a side each. You cling to his arm, cradling his bicep between your breasts, seeping warmth into his skin through his work shirt. Nanami clears his throat. You smell nice – always do – but right now, the scent of you is engulfing him from all sides. Other you pokes his chest. 

With an accusatory tone, you question, “Why aren’t you pushing her away, Kento?”

He leaves a kiss on your head, hoping to soothe your irritation. “I could never push away my wife, darling. I’d sooner die.”

“But I’m your wife.”

“No, I’m his wife.”

Nanami wraps his arms around the both of you, rubbing comforting circles on your backs; if he doesn’t do something, he might just come out of this with no wife. “You are both my wives. Just as beautiful as the other and just as ferocious. So, there’s no need to fight, alright?”

“Oh my god, what if we’re stuck like this forever? I can’t share you, Ken! I won’t. And! What if you start to like her more than me? I’ll kill myself.”

Gaze softening, he holds you tight. “That won’t happen, my love. It just wouldn’t. I’m confident things will go back to normal soon enough and you’ll be whole again. That’s our biggest concern, not ‘who will I prefer.’ That’s a silly thought; I love you in all the possible shapes and forms you come in. I could never choose just one side of you to love, it’s simply impossible.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“He is such a sweet talker, isn’t he?” You ask yourself.

You reply with a chortle. “The absolute sweetest. Thank god we put up with his grumpy ass before he fell for us.”

His heart swells. To watch you two get along fills him with so much pride and he can’t quite explain it. Perhaps it’s because he loves your smile, the way your cheeks get so plump with the force of it. Maybe it’s because he knows how long you’ve struggled to reconcile with the need to love yourself, truly, and how you find it torturous to confront yourself and see all those flaws he thinks creates your perfect soul. 

Maybe it’s simply because he loves you so much; there’s no need to question it.

“Ugh, get your hands off my husband!”

“No, you get your hands off my husband.”

And Nanami sighs again.

On and off, you two keep bickering, momentarily being quieted by his hushed commands to behave before starting up again shortly after. Slowly losing the will to fight, he accepts his indefinite reality. His house might never know peace again and he might never truly clock off work even once he returns home. It seems, outside of the office, he also has to manage stubborn individuals and rising tension. 

Still, it’s not so bad, he thinks. Having two of you is a blessing; he’s always encouraging you to eat more with the rationale of wanting more of you to love, after all.

But, his reasoning at this moment isn’t so pure.

The feeling of your plush bodies in his grasp is distracting. Two sets of your breasts are bouncing against his sides and in his face with every move you both make. Hands rove all over his body, staking their claim, and teasing the skin underneath his clothes. Nails scrape against his thighs, digging in when you try to control your anger, using him as the punching bag. He needs to keep his cool, to maintain control so he can ease your worries and dispel trouble at any time. But damn it if it isn’t taking a lot of effort to stand his ground. 

“Ken,” one of you whispers in his ear, lips brushing the shell, “you’re hard…”

Looking down, he comes face to face with solid evidence of your observation. How embarrassing – his wife was hurt and is facing an indubitably anxiety-provoking situation whereby she might never recover as whole from again, and despite that, he’s aroused. What kind of man is he?

What kind of terrible husband would be so self-centred?

“We can help… if you’d like.”

The kind that’d be married to you, apparently. 

Speechless, Nanami can do nothing but sit back and let his wife unbuckle his belt whilst the other unzips his trousers. One has a look of complete glee when she finds his hard cock already leaking and the other sports a focused expression, working her hand up and down his length. You really are his wife, split or not. No one could ever touch him so seductively, so enticingly, already threatening to shake his entire foundation with simple grazes. 

He should stop you both, should establish boundaries and get on with dinner. Instead of giving into baser instincts, he should lead by example and ensure your safety and wellbeing by being patient. But…how can he when your velvety palms play with his balls, fascinated by the weight of them?

“Come here, sweetheart,” he mutters, losing all grip on reason. He discards his glasses. “Come give Kento a kiss.” 

Two heads rush to his face. They collide with a bang. Hissing, you throw aggravated looks at each other. “He meant me.”

“Uh, no, he meant me.”

Tutting, he cradles both of your faces and brings one up to his lips. He lays a kiss where you bumped your head and then another to your mouth. Slowly and gently, he indulges in your taste, swallowing your breathy moans and teasing your tongue with his. Then, parting ways, he pushes your head down, eager to feel those juicy lips wrap around his throbbing cock. 

He meets your gaze. “You too, love.”

Mirroring the ministrations, he loses himself in the steamy kiss, groaning into your mouth when the you that’s licking his cock from the base to the very tip slides her wet tongue on the slit. Fuck, he needs more. He needs to feel you. 

A hand of his slides down your body, groping a breast, tweaking the nipple, before it ventures further down to between your legs. You’re soaked. Pussy lips swollen, he wastes no time in working two calloused digits inside. Wet, tight, and hot, he can’t get enough of how your cunt clenches around him. 

“Ah, Ken! So good. Thank you!”

The wife that’s drooling on his balls pouts. “Me too, Ken. Make me feel good too, please.”

He smiles. “My sweet wives, always so polite. Tilt your hips this way, darling, show me your pretty pussy. That’s it. And you, sweetheart, let me kiss your beautiful breasts.”

Now, both of his hands are being thoroughly coated in your wetness, squelching their way inside your pulsing canals. Mouth full of your breast, sucking and flicking your hard nipple, he lets himself be consumed by your scent, your warmth, your softness, and the wondrous sounds of your barely subdued whimpers and squeals. 

Being weighed down by your body, the reminder of your love and need for him, of which reflects his own for you, is the purest form of bliss he never would have thought he was deserving of. There is nothing more rewarding than drawing out your pleasure, than curling his fingers in just right against that gummy spot inside you that pushes out even more sloppy juices, and washing away your fears and worries. 

In this moment, as both of your hips are grinding down onto his hands, he wishes there was another of him. He can meet all your needs at once, overwhelm you with his body and drive you crazy. Then, there’d be no need to be jealous or possessive. Though…Nanami has a dark realisation that perhaps the sight of a cock that isn’t really his pushing its way inside your body would drive him to madness and not the pleasurable kind.

“Fuck, Ken! I’m gonna–”

“Cum!”

You orgasm at the same time as your other half, juices flying and soaking the sofa underneath your bodies. Speckles land on his creased trousers, drowning his hands and dribbling juices down his wrists. Nanami throbs, cock jolting in the cold air.

Slumped over his body, one of your heads perks up. “Hey, uglier me, wanna give him a boob job together?”

“I’m ignoring that insult, bitch, but yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes and then land a peck on Nanami’s cheek, giving him a wink.

Getting down onto your knees, you force his legs to spread wide to accommodate yourselves. A little frazzled at seeing you two collude and leave him out of the decision making process, no word of complaint can manifest before he throws his head back, unable to stand the sight of impish joy all over your irresistible eyes doubled as you watch his cock bob once and twice. 

“Ugh, isn’t his dick so pretty?”

The kitten licks you leave on his frenulum are your answer. Then, you both wrap your breasts around his cock, nipples kissing each other and his sharp intake of breath elicits giggles. Up and down, you rub his heated length with your supple breasts. His fingers thread through your hair, unable to keep his hands off you. 

“Is it good, Ken? Do you like it?”

Nanami groans. “Y-yes, it feels amazing, sweetheart. You’re so good to me…always so good to your husband, aren’t you?”

Giggling again, you two exchange grins, feeling mighty proud of yourself, he supposes. And he knows he can cum just like this, that his cum will spurt all over your faces and breasts. It’ll coat your plump lips and you’ll be able to taste his salty spend. Lightheaded, he gasps for air, intent to get his bearings, to not let you two have your way with him, but then you surprise him one more time. 

Lips locked, you two make a big show of moaning into each other’s mouths, tongue twisting together in an obscene display that has his heart thumping faster and faster until he’s sure he’s losing his mind. 

You might never stop surprising him no matter how long he’s loved you. 

He can’t take it anymore. The smell of your sweetness, the evidence of your euphoria coating his skin, the doughy blanket of your breasts around his cock is driving him insane. He needs you and he needs you now. In agile haste, he stands and takes his clothes off all while you both watch. 

“I-I need to be inside you, darlings.” There isn’t enough space on the sofa for what he wants. So, with a grunt, he lifts you two and carries your bodies up, biting back a smile when you squeal and giggle, into the bedroom. You both bounce into each other’s embrace when he drops you off on the mattress. “Strip.”

Clumsily, you remove every article of clothing. Your arms get caught in your shirt and your panties get tangled around your ankles. “Ugh, Ken, help.”

“I’m here. I’m here.” He helps you two out, wrangling your clothes off. “There we go, honey. Upsi-daisy.”

Though he might never admit how pleased he gets when he’s needed, he’s sure you know. There’s no way you don’t. You feel the evidence of it when he pins you to the kitchen counter to fetch the plate you’re reaching for and you surely see the way his eyes darken as you place a foot on his lap, wordlessly asking him to clasp your heels on for you.

As soon as your clothes are off, he pounces – sloppily swallowing your wet moans, he devours you and then the other you, swapping and switching till he gets frustrated and gasps for air. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much. All of you. In every life, in every time. Always.” You’re lying so prettily for him. Whatever he has done to deserve you today, he hopes he’ll do it again and again so he may never part from you, not even in death. His hands don’t know where to stay, exploring, groping and squeezing and pinching wherever they please. There’s so much of you he wants to feel at once and it’s like an urge he can’t fight. The need to be with you, to please you, to immerse himself in your essence wholeheartedly is choking him up, calling forth tears in his eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself from my eyes.”

“Ken, I love when you get all emotional, I swear, but please just fuck me already.”

He gulps. “Yes, love. I will.”

“No, wait, fuck me first.”

“Wait your fricking turn, oh my god.”

Another fight breaks out. 

Nails are out, hands are flying, hair is being pulled. Kento huffs. He’s trying to get in between you two without using force, without accidentally hurting you, and just as he’s about to pull you apart, a resounding SLAP!echoes. It’s a grating noise that steals his breath. In a flash, he’s got you behind him and you pinned to the bed. 

“No.” Nanami growls. Breathing hard, he shakes off the sudden anger coursing through his veins. Wide eyed, you just watch him release his punishing hold on your neck that he didn’t even realise he had on you. The scolding fire in him doesn't disappear. “No one hurts my wife. Not even you. Understand?”

You nod frantically. 

“Good. You know I hate to punish you but you won’t disagree when I say you need to be reminded of the rules, would you?” You shake your head. “Use your big girl words.”

“I need to be punished, Ken. I need to be reminded of the rules.”

Satisfied, he leans back on his haunches and beckons the other you to his front. There’s a mark on your cheek and it makes his chest squeeze painfully. “Oh, look what you’ve done to your pretty face. My darling wife and her penchant for violence. You’re going to give me more grey hairs.”

“I hope so; you’ll be a silver fox. Yum.”   

A fruitless frustration builds inside – it’s akin to that cuteness aggression you claim overcomes you often, he thinks. Well, he won’t deny himself any longer. He tugs your neck and kisses you. It’s rough, it’s messy, it’s sloppy. And he does it all while keeping his eyes on the you that’s in near tears. “Why don’t you -hah- show my wife how to be a good girl? Show her the reward you deserve.”

“Okay, Ken.”

Leaning back into his firm, sturdy body, you hiss as the threatening stretch of his fat cockhead pushes through the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. Slowly but surely, he’s worming his way into your pulsing cunt. Nanami grunts when he finally bottoms out, balls constricting with the labour of keeping his cum in his balls and not in your pussy prematurely. This is all far too much for him. To be thrusting into you, holding you upright by your arms as you watch his cock shine with your juices, is an insane fantasy he never even dreamed of, but it is his reality and he damn sure will make the most of it. 

“Ngh, tell my wife h-how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

Breathless, you try to talk despite the delirium-inducing pleasure he’s ramming into your tight cunt. “G-good. I feel good. Ken’s so big a-and I’m feeling so full. Fuck, Ken, fuck me harder.”

The sound of skin slapping, the squelching of your pussy, and the heady moans and grunts are all going straight to his head. Overstimulated, he clutches your breast for a tether, grounded by the weight and the softness. His pace quickens. “Like this? Hmm? You like this, darling?”

“Yes, Ken! Fuck, I’m close. More, Kento. Fuck me more.”

Over your shoulder, he watches you writhe and squirm on the bed, a hand squeezing your breast the way he is and fingers pumping inside your needy cunt at the pace his cock is working its way into your other half. Impatient, you whine. “Hurry, Ken. I want your cock too.”

He licks his lip. Sweaty, eyesight ever so slightly blurry, and growing closer and closer to his climax, urged on by the tight pulsing of your pussy, he continues thrusting inside. “Behave. Can’t you see I’m -ah, fuck- p-pleasuring my wife? Bad girls don’t get to touch, do they? They don’t get to have their cake. And. Eat. It. Ngh. Too!”

To highlight his point, he lets you slip through his grasp. You fall on top of yourself, bouncing breasts pressed tightly against each other. Your face is buried into the crook of your neck, uncaring about how loud your moans are. Nanami finds purchase against your slippery ass and holds it still as he fucks his cock into you, using you as a glorified cock sleeve. 

“Give me something. Anything, Ken. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Nanami grunts. “Open up.”

A fat drop of his spit lands with a plop onto your awaiting tongue. You gulp it down eagerly. Your fingers work themselves inside your cunt even faster, unperturbed by the weight of yourself pinning you to the bed, sweaty and shaking. Dare your husband say, you rather like it. His cock pulses.

“Soon, honey. Just be patient, a-alright? And then I’ll -hah- fill you up. Just have to -ngh- make my wife cum first.” 

Expert hips grind into your tight pussy, cockhead hissing your g-spot and stretching out your gooey walls again and again. If he had it his way, he’d never leave your cunt, but he has a responsibility to make you both cum. He can’t be selfish.

“Ugh, hurry up, you whore,” you mutter into your ear. Then, he sees your mischievous hand trail down your other’s spine until it descends between your legs. When the moans get louder and the clenching of your pussy steals Nanami’s breath, he can only assume you’ve taken matters into your own hands.

You cum around his cock with a scream. 

Hips stuttering, his orgasm soon follows. “Ah, f-fuck! So tight. So fucking good.”

His choked groans are all that can be heard as you lay limp. He too falls to the bed, lying beside your bodies. That had to have been one of the strongest orgasms he had ever had. Never a dull day with you. Just when he thinks he’s got you all figured out, you prove him wrong. What a privilege it is to learn all about you every day for the rest of his life.

“Hey, my turn!”

Brushing back his blond locks, he chuckles to himself as he watches his cock throb back to life. It seems his body has adapted to be sure he can attend to his wife’s needs. Both of them. “Get up here, sweetheart. Take what you want.”

Excited, you shove your other half off and rush to straddle your husband’s hips. You don’t wait; his cock slides inside with ease from your juices. “Oh, god, yessss. Fuck, Ken, I can feel you in my lungs.”

Bracing himself by holding onto your thighs, he can do nothing else against the desperate bouncing of your ass. The pleats inside of your perfect pussy are attempting to wring him dry all over again and Nanami’s abs flex with the building pressure. His cock is still recovering and it’s sensitive but you don’t care. Now, he’s the one being used like a mere toy. 

“S-slow down, honey.” He hisses. “Hah, slow -hngh!- d-down.”

“Hmm, shit, Kento. Y-you’ve gotten so big…” Ignoring his pleas, you must be referring to the layer of fat that’s grown on his body, thanks to the delicious food you’ve been cooking for him. Wholly embracing married life by skipping visits to the gym in lieu of staying longer in bed with you, he’s realised that his clothes no longer fit as they did. It’s embarrassing for a man who prided himself in being fit and put together but it gets you so wet and so needy, he doesn’t dare change a thing. “I want to -ah ah ah fuuuuck- drown in you.”

His chuckle is punctuated by the grunts that your incessant bouncing is forcing out of him. “If it’ll make you happy, my love.”

You clench down. 

“Ah, don’t -oh fuck- squeeze so tight.” He reaches for your clit, thumbing at it. You yelp, hips bouncing faster. Looking so absolutely beautiful, he can’t keep his eyes off the recoiling breasts in his line of vision. Suddenly, his mouth is suffocated with something hot, wet, and delicious. “Hmmph!”

You’ve sat on his face, leaning forward on his stomach, clearly keen to be involved once more in the fun. Submerged in your scent and taste, he doesn’t hesitate to slurrrrrrp! up your juices. He can taste his cum too and it dribbles down his chin. Cunt wrapped around his cock and another leaking wetness right into his mouth, Nanami swears he’s in heaven, delirious with the devastating gratification of pleasuring his wife. “Ride me faster…my face…my cock…that’s it, dear…doing so -ngh- great for me…my -hah hah- perfect wife.”

Lapping up your juices, he throbs when you squeal on his tongue.

“Is that how I really sound when you eat me out? Ew.”

Other you growls. “And is that what I really look like when I ride you?”

SMACK!

SMACK!

“Don’t t-talk badly about yourself. I won’t have it.”

Rubbing your sore ass, you mumble, “Mmm, sorry, Ken.”

“Yeah, s-sorry.”

Soon, you three work back into a punishing rhythm. Nanami hates to be so strict, but he can’t bear to hear you be so mean to yourself. It makes the hairs on his arms stand. If his eyes aren’t rolling to the back of his head, he’d lecture you about the importance of loving yourself. Again. But he can’t string full sentences together. Not right now. Now when you’re all so close. 

Your clit is bumping against his nose whilst his tongue pierces your cunt and he wonders if you can both feel the specific kind of bliss the other is – a cock kissing your g-spot, filling you up, and your pussy being thoroughly ravished by his greedy mouth. 

“Yes, Ken, suck my clit…hmm, just like that… yes yes yessss.”

“Fuck, Ken, your cock feels so good. I love it! More more more. I need it.”

Whatever his wife wants, he’ll oblige. Planting his feet, he fucks up into you, jostling your body. You shriek. His pace is relentless, merciless, and they push you further and further until your climax nears. Off balance, your face falls in between other you’s breasts. Whatever you’re doing to those tits he loves so much is making his wife’s eyes roll to the back of her head too. 

Nanami’s nearing his end. He needs you to get there first. Always. “Come on, sweetheart. Make me –ah make Kento– proud, won’t you? Let me h-hear, feel a-and taste my darling wife -hah- cum.”

“Yes, Ken!” You both screech.

And soon after, your husband finds himself covered in a flood of your juices. 

“FUCK!” 

“SHIT!”

“OH GOD!”

Nails dig into his skin, scratching and stinging. The grip you have on his cock tightens until he’s robbed of his breath and forced over, hips pumping up into your scalding cunt. Your moans are muffled between your breasts when his searing cum paints your walls white. 

Clinging to each other, the three of you black out. 

Minutes or hours later, Nanami is the first to wake. Bones aching just a little, he has a quick flash of thought that maybe he’s getting too old for this curse business. A curse-less day with you is more than enough to zap him of energy all while reviving him simultaneously so would it be so bad to give up the other part of him so he can dedicate his life to all of you?

He groans. His muscles are a little sore with a slight shake to them —the good kind. What a blessing it is to be pushed to his limits with you. Gazing down, he sighs in relief at what he sees.

Finally, the sight that greets him is not anomalous or extraordinary – it’s just his wife, singular and whole, draped naked across his lap and snoring. He’s trying to catch his breath, staring down at your sleeping form. “I’ve -hah- tired you out, huh? Poor thing.”

No doubt you’ll ask him if he enjoyed having two wives to service him later, and he’ll answer honestly as he always does with you; it wasn’t having two wives that he found pleasure in, it’s having two of you. There’s more to touch, to taste, to love. A challenge he wouldn’t ever shy away from.

Just as he wanted, he’s covered in sweat and your juices, owned by you in every way possible. This is how he’d like to spend the rest of his life if he could: attending to your needs and drawing out a grin even in your sleep. He pets your head, a shaky smile on his lips. Your eyes flutter open. 

“There’s my beautiful wife. Hi. I’ve missed you, darling.”

Groggily, you ask, “Am I fixed now, Kenny?”

Bringing up your face to his, he skims his nose against the tip of yours. “You were never broken to begin with, my love.”

“That’s sweet…can we go eat? I’m hungry.”

Petting your pussy and seeking out your heat as if his fingers are magnetised to it, he whispers against your lips, “You can take one more round, can’t you, honey? For me? For Kento?”

You both know it won’t stop at just one round. 

It never does. 

And thank fuck.

[femmefruit]

having your dom sit you in their lap with a vibrator pressed between your pussy and their thigh.

a simple enough variation to your usual routine of thigh riding, you let out a pretty sigh and rock your hips forward once before you feel their hands grip your hips to stop you.

“be still for me, baby. no grinding, can you handle that?” you know the sweetness behind the question is all for show, that it’s designed to make you feel small and disgustingly needy. it works. you’re nodding stupidly, already letting the vibrations between your legs overtake your thoughts. they appraise your expression, the way it starts to shift from attentive to blissed out, and turn the vibrator up one setting for good measure. “good, baby. i knew you could do it.”

it’s harder than you thought it would be, holding still through the pleasure. your brain, warm and gooey, keeps trying to urge you into your usual routine of humping away at whatever your partner puts between your legs. every time your hips twitch or shake, their grip tightens around you. you wonder if it’ll bruise. you hope it will. you know you’re getting close, drooling as you kiss and bite at any inch of their skin you can reach without moving your hips. a particularly insistent throb of your pussy threatens to drag you down into an orgasm, and you remember your manners at the last second.

“can i cum?” shakier than you would’ve liked, followed by a long moan. a beat of silence hangs in the air as you realize the answer, but it doesn’t stop you from pleading again, “can i? please?”

“no, baby. wait.” your ensuing cries are hushed, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently as though you’re not being tormented. you wind up to object again but you’re silenced by a tug on your hair that forces you to look them in the eye. “quit, baby. you know you like how it makes you feel, so wait.”

your cheeks flush hot at the accusation, knowing how much truth it held. your eyes start watering as you try to look for a way out, knowing just by their tone that this will not be a time where you could get away with cumming on accident. you drop your head to their shoulder and try to lift your hips, only to be forced back down onto the toy. your brain vaguely registers the instruction to “sit your ass down and be still,” but it’s nearly drowned out by the wail you let out as you connect with the vibrator again. you start shaking your head, pushing back against their chest in an effort to separate yourself from the overwhelming pleasure while your hips stay locked in place by strong hands. how long have you been holding this orgasm? a few minutes? seconds? it feels like it’ll never end, like you’re letting them dangle you over a cliff for their own pleasure, watching you fight and cry while you try your best to follow the instructions given.

they pull back again to admire the distress on your face, letting out a pleased hum at the state you’re in. you’re whimpering constantly, head resting pitifully on their shoulder. they know they could stay there forever, keeping you desperate and pliant as you pant into their neck. they give an experimental bounce of their leg that sends you into another fit of moaning and begging.

“please, please! i need to cum, daddy. i wanna be good but i’m going to cum, can’t hold it anymore. need you to say yes,”

the grin that spreads across their face could only be described as lecherous, listening to the way they’ve absolutely ruined you. they have to get in close to your ear to ensure you hear, holding you still through the fight you’re still putting up as they press a kiss against your temple. “go ahead baby, give it to me,” they groan out, hearing your moans start to pitch up before they even get the sentence out. as if you needed any help to ride it out, they press you down harder against the vibrator, coaxing out sob after sob as your orgasm tears through your body.

“shh, baby, i know. it’s good isn’t it? why don’t you do it again for me since you were so well behaved?”