#< didn't mention him much but it still counts

[mariasont]

Laced With Love - A.H

summary: while hotch is away on a case, you do nothing but shop, and when hotch insists you use his card who are you to disobey him? especially when what you buy benefits the both of you

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader spending hotch's money (it's giving sugar daddy af), so much teasing, fingering, oral fem receiving, hotch worshipping reader, some inappropriate comments made in front of morgan accidentally, they both just completely forget about dinner and don't mention so ya know my bad, dirty talk, soft dom hotchy poo

wc: 3.5k

You had a little problem.

It all started innocently enough: one coffee to-go, a quick window shop in your favorite boutique, and somehow that led to you walking out with a bag containing the most adorable pair of heels that you couldn't leave behind. Then it snowballed—another store, another bag. A perfume counter. A cute sweater that was on sale, and, well, that one really didn't count because it was practical. It was warm. Functional, even.

Okay maybe you had a big problem.

But it wasn't until your phone buzzed in your bag, pulling you out of a deep debate over whether you needed the floral dress you were holding, that you realized just how many bags were hanging off your arms.

Mr. Bossman flashed across the screen.

The name was completely ridiculous (and more than a little outdated now that he was your boyfriend), but it fit in a weird, nostalgic way. He'd been away on one of those long-distance cases, the kind where you weren't needed, and you'd been counting the days (and minutes) until he'd call. 

You grabbed your phone so fast you almost dropped the dress.

"Hi!" you answered, a little too quickly, your voice so giddy and sugar-sweet it could've given you a toothache. He always teased you for it, but right now you didn't care.

"Hi." His voice was warm, a little rough around the edges with exhaustion. "Just wanted to call and let you know I'll be home tonight."

Your heart practically leapt at his words. "Really? Finally! I thought I was going to shrivel up and die from boredom without you here. Okay, maybe not die, but like... what's the point of anything if you're not home to tell me I bought too many candles?"

"I'm not sure how you've lasted this long," he said. "Should I be worried about the state of the house? Or your bank account?"

"First of all, rude. Second of all, if you are so worried, maybe you shouldn't leave me alone for that long. Ever thought of that, Mr?"

His laugh came through the line, short and deep, and it hit you square in the chest. You closed your eyes, leaning into the sound like it could somehow bring him closer. You could see him so clearly--the way his face softened in a way that made him look ten years younger, the way his shoulders would drop, the way his eyes would crinkle. You missed him so much it hurt.

"Poor thing," he teased, still chuckling softly. "What's a girl to do when I'm not there entertain her? Besides spend my money, I mean."

"Don't worry, Aaron, your money is perfectly safe. My super respectable paycheck—you know, the one you sign—is covering me today."

"Hmm," he said, his voice still muffled. "Sounds like your boss is paying you too much."

"I don't know... I think you're getting a pretty good deal considering I keep you very taken care of. Would you like me to prove it later?"

"Hotch, tell me I did not just hear that."

You froze mid-breath, your hand flying to cover your mouth as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. That was Morgan’s voice. Morgan. You felt like a cartoon character with steam pouring out of your ears as your face burned red hot.

A nervous little squeak escaped you just as you heard Aaron fumbling with the phone, his voice clipped as he said something you couldn’t quite make out. There was a muffled shuffle, the sound of a door shutting, and finally, the blessed beep that meant he’d taken you off speaker.

"Christ, honey."

You peeked through your fingers, cheeks still burning as you tried to decide if you should laugh, cry, or maybe just dig yourself a hole and live there forever.

"So," you said, hesitating for a beat, "scale of one to ten, how dead am I? Should I preemptively file an HR complaint against myself, or just let Morgan handle my inevitable downfall?”

You heard him exhale sharply, the creak of a chair following as you pictured him leaning back with that half-smile he always gave when he was equal parts amused and exasperated.

“It’s fine. It’s a little embarrassing, sure. But nothing Morgan hasn’t done to himself ten times worse. He’ll give you a hard time for a day or so, Garcia will laugh, and then they’ll let it go.”

There was brief pause, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “That being said, maybe think twice before making explicit promises while I’m at work, honey.”

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the shopping bag in your hand as you toyed with the strap absentmindedly.

"I mean, it's only fair I keep my promise now," you said softly, barely loud enough for him to hear. "It's the least I can do."

You heard a faint sound in the background—maybe him clearing his throat—before his voice dropped an octave. "You're already on thin ice today. Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on."

You let out a little huff, batting your lashes instinctively even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

"I don't know why you're doubting me, Mr. Hotchner. You should know I'm very serious about keeping my promises."

"You know, you're not making this easy on me, " Aaron muttered, his voice low and gruff. You could hear a faint groan, followed by what sounded like pacing on the other end. "Alright, I've really got to go now. Behave yourself. And how about you use my card for the rest of the shopping trip?"

"No, Aaron, I can't!" you said quickly, shaking your head as if he could see you. "You'd never trust me again with your card after the damage I'd do. Besides, you're already going to be shaking your head when you see what I got with my own money."

Aaron sighed, his voice going into that low, authoritative tone that always made your stomach flip.

"You will use the card." There was no room for argument in his words. "I want you to. End of discussion."

And just like that, the call ended with a click. You stared at the screen for a moment as if it might magically reopen the call so could argue your case one more time. But, of course, that didn't happen.

He’d told you to use his card—he demanded it, actually—but your fingers still hesitated, clutching the little piece of plastic like it was about to bite you.

You glanced at the white lace lingerie folded neatly on the counter, the delicate fabric practically winking at you. It wasn’t just pretty—it was the kind of perfect that made your heart flutter. Normally, you’d talk yourself out of something so indulgent, but this time? Well, Aaron had practically begged you to buy something… and you couldn’t think of a better way to treat both of you.

You only hesitated for the briefest moment before swiping his card, your heart doing a little flip as the cashier folded the lingerie into tissue paper with careful hands. It felt like a tiny secret between you and Aaron—a very fun secret.

By the time you got home, the sun had started to dip below the horizon, and you knew you had some time before Aaron made it back. He always gave you a pretty reliable ETA. It was the perks of dating someone so anal.

You lugged your shopping bags up to the bedroom, your arms aching a little, but in the best way possible. Once in the bedroom, you started unpacking everything like it was Christmas morning. Dresses went in the closet, shoes were lined up neatly, and you stashed the receipts in the nightstand just in case Aaron did ask how much damage you'd done.

Then you pulled out the piece—the one you'd bought with him in mind. The silk felt decadent under your fingertips, and the delicate lace was almost too beautiful to wear. Almost. It fit like a glove, hugging every inch of you like it had been tailored specifically for this moment. 

Feeling pleased with yourself, you made your way to the kitchen and slipped into your favorite frilly apron, tying the bow neatly at the back. Cooking wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you were determined to make this work. Pasta seemed foolproof enough (right?), and you threw together a salad and garlic bread for good measure. By some miracle, nothing caught on fire, and the kitchen actually smelled amazing.

You found yourself glancing at the clock every few minutes. When you finally heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, you glanced over your shoulder, heart skipping a beat.

"Hi honey!" you called sweetly, pretending as if standing in the kitchen wearing practically nothing was the most common thing in the world.

Aaron stepped inside, the door clicking behind him, but the second his eyes landed on you, he froze. His tie was loosened, his sleeves slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it at least a dozen times today. But none of that mattered now—he stood there like he’d forgotten how to breathe, his dark eyes drinking you in.

You smiled at him, slow and innocent, brushing your hands lightly against the counter. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Sweetheart..." His voice was deeper than usual, strained and almost ragged, like he was trying to pull himself together and failing miserably.

"Yes?" you replied, acting as if you didn’t notice the way his eyes were glued to you while you turned off the burner and set the pan aside.

"What..." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze dragged down your body, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your ass. "What are you wearing?"

You turned to face him fully, the delicate lace tugging just slightly as you moved, drawing his eyes lower without him even realizing it.

"Oh this?" you said, gesturing vaguely to the piece. "It's just something I picked up today. You told me to use your card, so I thought I'd get something you'd like."

His jaw tightened, eyes scanning you slowly before lingering on the pink bows peeking out over the apron. "You used my card on this?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, your hands gliding down the soft lace as you took a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. "I figured it was an investment. You know, for both of us."

Aaron groaned, low and frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose for a brief second before letting his hand drop.

“Using my card for this…” His voice was rough as he closed the space between you in one long stride, his hands landing on your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips curved into the faintest smirk as his voice dipped lower. “Was the one thing you’ve done right today. Now take this off—slowly, sweetheart—and let me see exactly what I bought.”

He pinched at the bow on your apron, his fingers tugging lightly, but you stepped back just enough to be out of his immediate reach.

“If you were that eager to see what I bought,” you teased, your fingertips grazing one of the straps of the apron, “maybe you shouldn’t have left me waiting so long.”

You slipped one strap off your shoulder, letting it fall halfway, then paused, tilting your head slightly as if daring him to come closer.

"Trying on pretty things, waiting for me to come home—must've been absolutely draining," Aaron shook his head slowly.

You pouted at him, pushing your bottom lip out just enough to make his eyes soften. He chuckled quietly, stepping closer until his hands braced the counter on either side of you, caging you in.

 "But you know what? I missed you too. And seeing you like this... makes being away feel like torture."

Your pout melted into a glowing smile as your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers brushing lightly over his shirt.

“You mean it? You really missed me?”

"Of course I did." His hands cupped your jaw gently, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His other hand moved slowly to the bow at your waist, pulling the knot loose with an easy tug. "Now, angel, let me see what else I've been missing."

The apron slipped to the ground, forgotten, as Aaron’s eyes locked onto you. He blinked once, then twice, his expression unreadable except for the slight parting of his lips, like he’d been robbed of air.

His gaze traveled over you like a slow caress, taking in the way the lace hugged your curves, teasing him with everything it didn’t quite cover. His eyes lingered on your chest, where the sheer fabric exposed the peaks of your nipples, and you caught the subtle hitch in his breath as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching slightly.

You tilted your head, letting your expression soften into something sweetly innocent as you leaned back against the counter. The lace shifted with the movement, exposing just enough to make his jaw tighten. Then, just for a second, you parted your legs, catching his sharp inhale as you gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

When he realized what wasn't under the lace, his eyes snapped back up to yours. Without a word, he dropped to his knees, hands sliding over your thighs until they rested just above your knees.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, heart skipping several beats as you stared down at him. You hadn't expected this. Not the way his knees hit the floor like it was second nature, not the way his palms spread wide against your skin, thumb brushing over the curve of your inner thighs as he looked up to you.

He must be exhausted, that was your only explanation. But then his hands pressed harder into your thighs, and the thought evaporated. His eyes weren't clouded with exhaustion—they were focused, like he was memorizing every inch of you. 

Your stomach twisted sharply, your legs suddenly feeling like they couldn’t hold you upright anymore. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That singular thought settled in your chest, blooming like a flower, before curling low in your belly, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your thigh in the softest of touches, like he was savoring the moment. Slowly, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time, his fingers tightening around your thighs as his grip became more insistent. He kissed you again, higher and slower, his nose grazing your skin, breath fanning over you. A deep, contented hum rumbled from his chest.

"What have I done," he murmured, his voice rasping like the words have been pulled from his chest, "to deserve this? To deserve you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours. "Tell me, angel, because I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant to have you like this."

You wanted to tell him everything—the depth of your love, how he made you feel like the luckiest person alive—but the words lodged in your throat.

"Aaron... I... you're just..." you stammered, voice trembling as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter. 

Before you could gather your thoughts, he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. His lips brushed higher, dangerously close to your exposed cunt, and a soft, broken sound escaped you.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration shooting straight through you. 

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" His breath was hot against your thigh. "You always have so much to say. Don’t tell me you’re out of words already. I haven’t even started.”

"I was going to tell you how—oh, gosh, Aaron—"

Your words you had been trying to string together scattered completely, replaced by a shaky moan as his mouth pressed firmly against your clit. Your breathing stuttered, your chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure coursed through you, drowning out every thought but him.

His mouth was everywhere—warm, insistent, and impossibly skilled as his tongue traced over your clit with maddening precision. He worked like a man possessed, drawing sounds from you that you didn't even know you were capable of making. He was too good at this—too good at knowing exactly where and how to touch you, too good at making you fall apart with just his mouth.

Then he shifted, his hand gripping your other thigh as he lifted your second leg over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. The sound you made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, your hands flying to his hair as your head tipped back.

Your back pressed against the edge of the counter awkwardly, a dull ache building in your lower spine, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of pleasure radiating through you. His tongue moved in devastating accuracy, his hands gripping your thighs like he was gluing you to himself. Your chest moved in shaky breaths, his name slipping from your lips in trembling cries that you couldn’t hold back.

"If I'd known this would be my reward," you gasped, tugging hard at his hair, your words faltering as your head tipped back. "I'd have emptied your whole wallet—oh, fuck—“

His lips closed firmly around your clit, pulling firmly in a way that destroyed your sentence completely. His hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you locked exactly where he wanted you.

"You must really mean it if you're cursing now." His tongue flicked over you again, making your back arch sharply. "Didn’t know you had that in you... let’s see what else I can get you to say, angel."

A warm flush spread up your neck and into your cheeks, heat rising faster than you could control. "I didn't mean to--"

You were cut off once again as his finger slid into your pussy. Any trace of embarrassment was gone, swept away by the overwhelming need pooling deep in your core, leaving nothing but raw desire in its place.

The pressure, coiling low in your stomach, was building so fast you could barely keep up with it. Every tell-tale sign was there—the trembling of your thighs, the way your chest shuddered in shallow breaths, and most incriminating of all, the words spilling from your lips before you could even think about them.

"I love you," you gasp, the desperation clear as ever. "I love you so much, I love you—Aaron, oh—"

He groaned against your clit, his tongue pressing hard as though your words were the fuel he needed to pull you apart completely. His finger curled again, hitting that spot that made you vision blur. His eyes flicked up, and you could tell he knew exactly what was happening. He always knew.

"I know, angel," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "Now show me just how much."

Your orgasm hit you with staggering intensity, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing through you that left every inch of your body trembling. Your breath came in uneven, stuttering gasps as his name spilled from your lips, over and over, like a mantra you couldn’t stop repeating.

"That's my girl," Aaron murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin as his finger worked you through the waves.

His lips pressed on last kiss to your thigh before he straightened, his hands immediately wrapping around your waist like he predicted you'd collapse without him. As soon as he lifted you, you clung to him like your life depended on it (and in that moment you were sure it did), your arms winding around his neck.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating somewhere above yourself. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. Your fingers curled weakly against the fabric of his shirt, and for a fleeting moment, you weren’t even sure your body had substance anymore—you felt soft, boneless, entirely his.

Aaron tapped the back of your thigh gently. "Come on, sweetheart, up."

You tried—really, you did—but your body wasn't cooperating. Your legs dangled uselessly, and you let out a soft, half-laugh, half-whisper. "Can't."

He huffed a quiet laugh. 

"Hopeless," he teased. He hoisted you up before you could process it, his shoulder pressing into your stomach as he flipped you over it. A surprised squeak escaped you, but his hand was already bracing your thigh as he started up the stairs. "I guess I'll just have to do all the work, as usual."

"You're so strong," you mumbled dreamily, your head lolling against his shoulder. "Like... disgustingly strong. It’s so hot."

Aaron laughed, his hand smacking your ass. "Keep talking like that, sweetheart and I'll start using you for my next workout routine. And I guarantee it'll be something you'll feel tomorrow."

"Mr. Hotchner!" you gasped, your voice half-indignant and half-giggling. "And you act like I’m the inappropriate one in this relationship!"

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he carried you into the bedroom. He lowered you down, tossing you onto the bed just hard enough to make you bounce lightly against the mattress. You let out a soft laugh, body sinking into the covers as you looked up at him. 

“The difference is, I have the good sense not to say things like that on speakerphone.”

You let out a small laugh, raising your eyebrows. “And you should have the good sense not to trust me on speakerphone. Really, Aaron, rookie move.”

He stood tall at the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly loosening the top button of his shirt as he tilted his head. "“That’s fine. We’ll call it even—after you make good on that promise."

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[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Blood Moon (M)

★ PAIRING: Werewolf!Haechan x Vampire!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 16K

★ GENRE(S): Smut, Angst, Forbidden Love, Dark Fantasy, Mortal enemies, Slightly melodramatic lol, Haechan is a real yearner in this.

☆ SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is in an accident that leaves him in critical condition. You wanted to be the one to save him, to turn him, but his best friend beats you to it. How will your relationship change now that you’ve become immortal enemies? ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Minor character death, mentions of grieving and loss, blood, mentions of torture, reader has a messed up backstory,dry humping, rough supernatural sex hehe, rimjob, cunnilingus, knotting, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, drug use in the form of pixie dust, Its freaky asl idk, mature, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: Might have got carried away on this one whoops. I love fantasy so excuse the lore but enjoy this porn with plot!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your heart was in the pit of your stomach. You'd always known this day would come eventually, but you'd been foolish to think you would ever be ready. The call from the hospital had come 10 minutes ago, and traffic crawled by like a sluggish beast. You wondered why you'd gotten behind the wheel, when you knew you were faster on foot.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the busy streets. Your veins thrummed with a restless energy as you tried to sit still. You would make it. You had to.

Your heels clicked against the tile of the hospital floor as you darted down the corridor, your head whipping in every direction for the room the receptionist had told you was Donghyuck’s. The scent of disinfectant and sterile air filled your lungs, but beneath it, you caught a whiff of something else – a faint hint of his presence.

Finally, your eyes found the room number, and as you approached the door, your gaze fixed on the whiteboard attached to it:

 Patient: Lee Donghyuck

As you entered the room, you didn't notice the strain in your shoulders or the way your breath caught in your throat until you almost yanked the door off its hinges. The bed was empty and cold, but his scent lingered. It hadn't been long since they'd moved him.

Your mind reeled with worst-case scenarios. You patted your pocket for your phone, but it wasn't there – you must have left it in the car in your panic.

You hear footsteps approaching, and they come to a stop outside the door. When you turn around, you see a nurse wiping the whiteboard clean.

“Where is he?” The harshness in your voice surprises you.

“If you’re asking about the patient who was in here, you just missed him. He was checked out a little while ago,” she replies, not looking up from her task.

You finally exhale, your legs growing weak beneath you as relief floods through you. He was okay. But then a flicker of confusion crosses your face, causing your slight smile to falter.

“Is something wrong?” the nurse asks, finally looking at you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just... his condition. I was told it was critical.”

The nurse nods, concern creasing her brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d pull through. He was hit by a drunk driver. He broke several bones, and we thought there was internal bleeding. There should have been, at least.” She pauses, her expression turning puzzled the more she thinks about Donghyuck’s case.

“Where is he now? How could he just get up and leave after all that?” Panic begins to rise within you. He was human; you were certain of that. Humans don’t just bounce back like that, do they? Questions and doubts swirl in your mind.

“A few friends visited him about thirty minutes before you got here. One of them came to find me and said he needed to be checked out. I was just as shocked as you when I walked in and found him standing there, all his vitals normal. The doctor wanted to keep him for more tests, but the guys insisted on taking him home. Honestly, there wasn’t much we could do since he appeared fine.” The nurse shrugs, her confusion mirroring yours.

Just then, her pager buzzes, breaking the tension. “I’ve got to run. Sorry!” She glances at the notification before hurriedly excusing herself.

You start piecing things together, and the outcome doesn't sit well with you. You walk back into the room and focus. Your senses aren’t as sharp as usual, you’re due for another recharge soon. You sift through the scents in the hospital: sterile, metallic, but then you catch a whiff of something you missed earlier. It confirmed the nurse's story. They had been here.

Irritation bubbles up as you stride out of the hospital. You could leave a trail of fire in your wake with the heat radiating off you in fury. They had reached him first. They had taken him. You grind your heels into the pavement as you run. You’d worry about your car later; moving on foot is your best bet now. Better they didn’t see you coming.

The cold night air bites at your skin as you fly through the darkness, few cars passing you on the back roads. At this speed, they wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of you. The trees blur into shadows as you sprint toward your destination, buried deep in the forest. You split from the main highway to a side road, blocked by rusting barriers, stretching out for miles. its cracked and overgrown pavement leading to a half-built freeway that drops off into thickets of bushes and trees. No one comes this way; not many even know it exists. The only souls who dare venture down this path are high schoolers or college kids looking for thrills at night, chasing highs.

As you round a bend, your destination comes into view: a rundown motel, overtaken by moss and vines. It stands as the sole remnant for miles, until you reach the unfinished freeway. There's nothing else out here but forest. 

You slow your pace, taking in the scene; it feels like stepping back in time. The once flickering neon sign, long burned out, hung tilted above the entrance, and the peeling paint on the walls had seen better days. The only thing guiding you through the darkness is the moonlight and your own keen night vision. Without them, it would be pitch black—no lights for miles. 

Even before you see them, the smell hits you first: a wet, dog-like odor that makes your nose scrunch up in distaste. The moment you step onto the property, yellow eyes appear in the dark, and low snarls echo through the night. You’re in werewolf territory, and they’re just seconds away from ripping you apart. In an instant, you’re surrounded, their numbers closing in like a tightening net. Your own eyes flash red as you bare your fangs in warning, a growl rumbling in your throat. Teeth clash around you, spit flying as they display their own teeth.

“Where is he? I know you took him!” you shout, your voice carrying through the crowd. “I’m just looking for my boyfriend! I’m not here to fight!”

You took a gamble coming here unprepared. In the wild, they predominantly favored their wolf forms. The hairs along their necks and backs bristle, ears perk up, and they crouch low, ready to pounce. In this state, instinct reigns supreme; reason and negotiation was unlikely.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, preparing to unleash your own claws when a voice suddenly cuts through the chaos.

“Stand down,” an older voice commands as two familiar figures emerge from the pack.

One of the pack members howls, calling the others to attention. The wolf shakes violently, as if shrugging off water, before morphing into a human—a few others follow suit. The rest bound off into the dense forest.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is our territory,” the first transformed wolf says, a warning etched across his features. He stands before you, his human form unapologetically naked.

“Jeno, enough!” the old man insists, his presence commanding.

“She’s a vampire! She’s breaking treaty by being here without permission!” Jeno, points accusingly at you.

“He’s here, isn’t he? There’s no way you haven’t heard about the accident. He wasn’t at the hospital.” Your frustration boils over, almost uncontrollable. “You turned him into one of you, didn’t you? Answer me Jeno!”

He meets your gaze with a snarl at the mention of his name.

“I said enough! We don’t need to escalate this,” the old man interjects firmly.

“Dad!” Jeno says in disbelief.

“Follow me,” Jeno’s father commands, brushing aside his son’s fury with practiced ease.

You glower at Jeno as you follow his father deeper into the property. Your scowl is met with silent glares from the others, who stand in their human forms, their eyes watching intently. The chief has spoken. it’s clear—no one is to touch you.

You recognized Ten, Johnny, Kun, Xiaojun, Yangyang, and a few other familiar faces among the pack. Your boyfriend, Donghyuck, had grown up with them. His dad was friends with Jeno’s, so he and Jeno had played  together since diapers. They were the ones who had given him the nickname Haechan. You always hated how close he was to the pack. He always carried a trace of their scent and there was a time you were fully convinced he might be one of them.

Donghyuck had been blissfully unaware of the supernatural world around him. When he introduced you to a few of his friends one day, you had to fight the instinct to bare your fangs. That night had been tense and awkward. You had learned to play nice while Haechan was around, but the moment he left the room, you were at each other's throats. 

They guide you into one of the rooms. Despite the rundown exterior of the motel, the inside was meticulously restored, almost like an oasis in this forgotten wilderness. As soon as you step inside, your breath catches in your throat. The sight of Haechan makes your heart swell and break all at once. 

At first glance, he seems fine—lying on a bed in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling gently. Sweat beads at his temples, and his brows are furrowed in a way that sends a rush of alarm through you. A slight grimace crosses his lips, hinting at discomfort or pain making your heart sink.

"What’s wrong with him?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, fear creeping in.

“It’s part of the process,” Jeno says from near the door. “He’s adjusting. It’s a lot for him to handle.”

“Why would you allow this?” you target the chief. Jeno pulls you back by the arm before you can get to him, his claws digging into your skin. 

“He didn’t know! I did this,” Jeno interjects.

Your anger shifts to Jeno, a growl escaping your lips. “You,” you spit, eyes glowing red again. “You know the risk of turning him, and yet you still did it!”

“He’s my best friend! I wasn’t going to let him just die!” Jeno’s voice rises with frustration and pain. “What were you planning to do when you got there? Watch him die?” He laughs cruelly, which only fuels your fury. “You’re just mad I beat you to it.”

The air is thick with tension, and you prepare to lunge at him when growls break the silence from behind you. Turning around, you see some of the pack entering the room. You lock eyes with Ten, Johnny, and Jaehyun, their expressions unreadable but serious. You sense their protectiveness over Jeno and reluctantly ease your stance, frustration boiling over in a huff of air. “Ughh!” You clench your fists, willing yourself to calm down as your chest rises and falls harshly.

“What’s going to happen to him?” you ask, looking towards the chief.

“He’s going to change,” he replies, his gaze steady. “He’s taking the bite well. There shouldn’t be any complications, but he needs rest. He’s been through a lot today.”

“How long will it take?” You say. You move carefully to sit at Haechan’s side and brush the hair from his forehead.

“It varies from person to person,” He says, pulling your attention away from haechan. “It can be a few hours to a couple of days. But he’s resilient, and he’s strong.” 

You turn back to Haechan, your heart aching as you scan his form. The covers are thrown aside, exposing his chest, bare except for the sweat glistening on his skin. He looks different—his shoulders broader, muscles more defined, and his face sharper than before. He was still your Haechan, but you realize with dread that there’s one detail you’ll have to adjust to.

That smell. The unmistakable scent of a werewolf—stronger and more pungent than the subtle hint he carried before. He reeked of mutt.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Past

You hadn’t told Haechan you were a vampire. It was safer that way or perhaps you were deluding yourself, too afraid to face the truth. As a vampire, dating humans was frowned upon. Humans were considered nothing more than food, meant to be consumed or else they’d spoil. Vampires, on the other hand, were the undead, nightwalkers who defied mortality and the passage of time. You didn't age, and You didn't die. Vampires were superior to humans in every way. It was common manners not to play with your food but eat it. You had sworn you would never date a human. Loving a human was dangerous but despite everything you couldn’t stop yourself from loving Haechan.

There was an abandoned cemetery just outside the city where you lived. Cliché as it might be, you loved the cemetery; it was one of the few places you felt truly at peace. You often found yourself wandering there, even outside of your biweekly recharging rituals. 

Living amongst humans was difficult for most vampires, but those who tried had to make accommodations. Unlike some legends you could bask in the sunlight without fear of turning to ash under the sun or sparkling like diamonds. But there was a trade-off—when exposed to the sun, you were stripped of your immortality. You were the most vulnerable during the day. You’d still retain your speed, hearing, and agility, but you felt as fragile as a human. Many were terrified of this weakness, so they hid away until nightfall when they were the most powerful. 

At night you were untouchable. Not even a stake through the heart, garlic, or silver bullets could kill you. Still, prolonged exposure to the sun would gradually drain your energy, weakening you until you were left with nothing if you didn’t recharge. Bathing in moonlight was one solution, but the quickest way to recuperate your strength was resting in a specially inscribed coffin. That kind of sleep rejuvenated you, allowing you to regain your vitality and power.

You had stumbled upon an unburied coffin in that cemetery long ago and inscribed it with runes of protection and rejuvenation. It became your perfect charging station. Tucked away from the bustling city, it was very rare that someone came here due to the cemetery's extremely run down appearance.

You thought it was perfect. The quiet stillness allowed you to gaze at the stars, and it was beneath that vast, twinkling sky that you first met Haechan.

You had spent an entire day in your coffin, allowing the darkness to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. As you pushed against the stone lid, it slid aside with ease, and you sat up, yawning and stretching your limbs. Blinking a few times, you find the moonlight spilling into the  space and filling you with its magic. You bask in it as it dances against your skin. After resting you always got the zoomies, a few laps around the forest would do just fine before heading home.

Sliding out of the grave, you dusted off the dirt and debris from your clothes. Just as you began to shake off the remnants of your rest, a shuffle caught your attention a few yards away. Instinct kicked in, and your senses sharpened. The sweet, tempting scent of human filled your nose, and a smile crept across your face. You were starving and could go for a little snack, especially if some careless drunk college kid had stumbled their way here. You’d never understood why freshmen chose this spot to get wasted, but at that moment, you silently thanked whichever god had sent them your way. You were tired of dealing with the trash and beer bottles they left behind anyway.

You're naturally light footed so you don't have to sneak up on the hunched figure in front of you. Just as you were about to attack, a small sniffle stopped you in your tracks. You took a moment to observe the young man kneeling in front of a grave, fresh pink camellias in his hand. He was crying, and his tears sparkled in the moonlight as they fell, unknowingly watering the flowers. There was something ethereal about him, reminiscent of a fairy. For a moment, you could have sworn the flowers bloomed brighter with each teardrop, but perhaps that was just your imagination running wild. Taking a deep breath to better understand this mysterious figure. His scent confirmed he was undeniably human, tinged with a hint of canine—perhaps he was a dog owner.

You may be a creature of the night, but you weren't heartless. 

As you gazed at the young man, you couldn't bring yourself to disturb him while he was grieving. Your voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He jumped, startled, and clutched his chest with his free hand. "You scared me," a nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to calm his racing heart. "I didn’t think anyone else was here" he said, wiping his tears and clearing his throat. He gently set the flowers down beside him.

You offered him a soft, gentle smile and settled in beside him, your eyes drifting to the tombstone. "Who was she to you?" You asked, nodding toward the name etched into the stone. Your gaze flickered to his.

The young man stared at you, his mouth agape, his eyes wide with wonder. You couldn't help but giggle at his adorable expression – he reminded you of a baby bear, innocent and endearing. It's like he finally remembers you asked him a question and his mouth snapped shut, and he cleared his throat. His eyes refocusing on the grave and a fond smile spread across his face, and you could almost see the memories dancing across his features.

"She was my grandma," he said, his voice cracking slightly. You hummed softly, indicating you were listening, and he continued.

"She took care of me when my dad would leave on business trips when I was a kid. She got sick after I'd left the city, and I couldn't find the time to come see her... and now it's too late." Tears began to well up in his eyes. “She wanted to be buried by her mother but…” He trailed off. His eyes flit around the abandoned graveyard and its crumbling tombstones, their inscriptions faded and obscured by moss and creeping ivy. The path leading through the graveyard was overgrown with wild grasses hinting at years of neglect. 

You smiled, understanding where he was coming from. This wasn't the most ideal place to lay a loved one to rest anymore. 

"It's not your fault, you know. I'm sure you wanted to be there for her, and I'm sure she knew that too."

His eyes remained fixed on the grave as he traced the name engraved in stone with his fingers, a faint smile breaking through his sorrow. "Thank you," he replied, but you sensed it would take time for him to truly believe your words.

Suddenly, he turned to you with a new intensity. "I'm sorry I've been rambling about myself. Did you lose someone, too?"

His question caught you off guard. You had nearly forgotten that people came here to grieve, as you had your own reasons. You paused for a moment, scrambling to conjure a lie. But after the heartfelt story he had shared, you didn't feel that it was right to lie about visiting a loved one.

"I just come out here sometimes because it's quiet," you admitted, which wasn’t entirely untrue; sometimes the chaos of the city was overwhelming, and you needed a break from the noise.

Haechan looked at you as if you were crazy. "You're crazy."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. "I guess I am. But look," you said, pointing toward the stars. "They look so pretty out here."

His gaze flickered upward, captivated by the night sky. 

"That one's Ursa Major," you said with a smile. "It's my favorite." You reached out, taking his hand to trace the constellation. "Do you see it?"

"What's it supposed to look like?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"It's a bear! You see the Big Dipper? That's part of the constellation, and all together it’s supposed to resemble a bear." You released his hand and used your own to outline the Big Dipper in the sky.

His eyes lit up as he stared at the stars, and you found yourself captivated by him. The way the starlight shimmered in his gaze was enchanting.

"I see it!" he exclaimed happily, turning to share the joy with you, but when he looked back, you had vanished.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your skin was cold to the touch and you were gone so suddenly he had almost written you off as a ghost that night. He had nearly forgotten about that night until you appeared before him again. A month later, he saw you in the library, and he was certain you were real. 

After his grandmother's passing, Haechan had moved back home. He was entrusted with managing a significant part of her affairs, leading to weeks of sleepless nights spent sorting through her accounts and handling paperwork. Juggling family responsibilities and his classes at the nearby community college had left him utterly exhausted.

When he first saw you he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly but there you remained.  You were just down the aisle, and he hurriedly packed his things, eager to follow you. When he turned the corner just a few seconds later, you had vanished again. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’ve gotta get some sleep,” he murmured, shaking his head as he pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulders, preparing to leave.

“You probably should,” you said with a smile, making him jump back in fright, letting out a startled yell.

A few patrons shush the two of you. “I’m sorry. I should really stop sneaking up on you,” you said, a playful grin on your face.

“You think?” he whispered back, but a smile finally broke through his fatigue. “So you really are real,” he mused more to himself than anyone else.

Your smile widened at his revelation, and you nodded.

“What's your name?” 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Present day

A week had passed since you'd last seen Haechan. You hadn’t gone back to see him and honestly you weren’t sure if you ever would. Dating a werewolf? It seemed even more complicated than a relationship with a human. Your mind was reeling, and you were still struggling to wrap your head around the reality of it all.

You sat on your balcony that overlooked the forest behind your apartment. Sipping hot chocolate and watching the full moon, you couldn't help but think of him. You wondered how he was coping with his first full moon. Having his first full moon so close to his initial change must be tough. With a sigh, you tried to shake off the thoughts. It would be safer for both of you if you stayed away from each other.

You moved back inside. You were walking into the kitchen to wash your cup when you felt a sudden draft as the wind blew in through the double doors leading to your balcony. You must have forgotten to close it all the way. You walked back over to close them, ensuring they were locked before returning to the kitchen. 

You freeze when you spot the ash-grey wolf standing on your kitchen island. You couldn’t suppress the scream that escaped your lips. How the hell had it gotten in here without you noticing? Your senses were dulled, and you knew you were due for a much-needed recharge.

You cursed under your breath, taking in the beast before you. Its yellow eyes glowed, and saliva dripped onto your kitchen island, making you recoil in disgust. This wolf was not acting normal. Its shoulder heaved as it took ragged breaths, almost rabid in appearance. You instinctively put your guard up, creating distance between the two of you. You couldn’t fight it—not in your current state.

As you slowly began to back away, there was something in the wolf's eyes that halted you in your tracks. It couldn't be him.

“H-Haechan?” you called out, bending your knees to appear smaller so as not to frighten him. You wondered how he had ended up here. He looked scared.

“It's me, Haechan,” you said softly, hands extended in a non-threatening manner. You understood he was running purely on instinct. Perhaps he had sought out a place where he felt safe.

Now you stood just in front of him causing him to growl and bare his teeth. His body was rigid, and his ears were flattened against his head. Every sign warned you to stay back, yet you ignored them all as you reached out to touch him.

In an instant, it happened. One moment you were standing, and the next, he had pinned you to the floor, his powerful paws digging into your shoulders. He snarled, but you remained calm. He couldn’t kill you but healing would take days in this state if he did enough damage.

You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Haechan, you need to calm down. It’s me. If you don’t find control, you’ll do something you’ll regret.”

He growls in response.

“Donghyuck!” you yelled sternly. “Snap out of it!” You scolded him as his claws dug deeper into your shoulders.

He flinched and whined, stepping off you reluctantly. His head hung low, and his tail tucked between his legs as he made a small circle before plopping down a few feet in front of you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you realized he had regained some sense of awareness. Keeping your voice steady, you knelt beside him and tentatively reached out. When he allowed you to get close, you gently patted him. “You need to change back, baby. I know you're scared, but you have to. You can do this. You're stronger than this,” you whispered reassuringly.

He stood up, and you did too, backing away to give him space. He stretched into a downward dog and shook himself off, and to your amazement, his body morphed before your eyes. Finally, the Haechan you knew and loved stood naked before you, looking horrified as he took in the damage done.

“I’m sorry.” 

Following his gaze to your shoulders, you smiled. “This is nothing; don’t worry about it,” you said, trying to comfort him.

He backed away slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t come near me!” he yelled, and you flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he added, his voice softer this time.

Ignoring his plea, you walked toward him anyway. “You could never hurt me, love,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he sank to his knees. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t remember anything. Jeno and the others came for me and then turned me into… this.” He gestured to his hands, which hadn't fully reverted, his claws still bared.

Kneeling in front of him, you took his hands in yours. He tried to pull away, but your grip was firm enough to keep him in place. He looked at you in shock but before he could question your strength you spoke.

“Is that why you ran?” you asked gently.

“They turned me into a monster. How can I live like this?” His eyes searched your face for answers. Your heart ached at the fear reflected in his gaze. You felt a wave of shame wash over you; Jeno was right. If you’d gotten to him first, you would have changed him but that wasn’t what Haechan wanted. Jeno had acted selfishly, and so had you for even contemplating it.

“He was just trying to help,” you found yourself defending Jeno unexpectedly. Maybe you were subconsciously defending yourself. “You have to go back to them, Haechan. They’re the only ones who can teach you how to control yourself.”

“So I don’t hurt more people,” he scoffed, humorlessly. “How can you even look at me right now?”

“You’re not a monster, do you hear me?” you replied sternly.

“I AM! LOOK AT ME!” he yelled, his eyes glinting yellow as he finally found the strength to yank his hands away from yours. He stood and walked toward your room, rummaging through your drawer until he found a pair of pants he’d left behind. You stand in the doorway, watching him dress with your arms crossed.

“Haechan I'm fine,” you called out.

“Don’t lie to make me feel better!” he shouted back.

Frustration surged within you as you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your already healed skin. “LOOK!” you yelled.

He halted, his eyes widening as he examined you. Your skin was unmarred, untouched by his claws. He dashed toward you, grabbing your shoulders and twisting you this way and that, searching for any signs of injury. “Wha—” he stuttered. “How did you do that?”

Closing your eyes, you remembered your true self. When you opened them, they glowed crimson. “You’re not a monster, Haechan. Unless you consider me one too,” you told him.

His eyes widened in astonishment, but he stood rooted in place, shock holding him there. “What are you?”

You hissed softly, revealing your fangs. "I'm a vampire," you stated simply.

You could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots: why you were always so cold to the touch, how you could sneak up on him silently, how you exhibited unnatural strength just moments ago.

Finally, his body relaxed, and he sank onto your bed, looking lightheaded. “So you’re a vampire,” he repeated, almost incredulously, as if trying to grasp everything that had just unfolded.

“Yes,” you said, sitting next to him.

“And I’m a werewolf.”

“Correct again,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

“How old are you?” he asked next, genuinely curious.

You fought back a smile. “How rude!” you joked, shoving him lightly.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” he replied apologetically, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “I mean, when did you become a vampire? Has it been a long time? Your family…” He trailed off, the gravity of the conversation settling in the atmosphere.

“They’re probably dead by now,” you replied, your voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the sincerity in his tone.

“It’s okay. I don’t remember my human years; most vampires don’t,” you explained. “I was 24 when I turned. The one who turned me was the closest thing to a father I had, and he was cruel.” You bristled at the memories of your past.

Haechan stayed quiet, allowing you to open up if you wanted. You took a deep breath before continuing, "He kept me locked away and taught me how to survive, but the punishments were brutal. I knew I had to get away from him eventually."

You told Haechan everything…

You don’t remember how you ended up there, but when you awoke that night, a man in his late forties stood before you. He had dark hair and striking blue eyes. Now that you’re older, you realize blue eyes belong to ancient vampires, beings that had survived since the dark ages. With a voice like dark velvet, he taught you how to harness your powers and you learned the art of inscribing. His teachings also instilled in you a deep-seated fear of the sun. He spun tales of scorched skin and searing pain, convincing you that to step into its light would mean certain death.  He taught you other things too, like to despise humans. He taught you humans were to never be trusted and that one day they would betray you.

He kept you locked away underground in an old tower, isolated from the world above. The room where you stayed contained only a coffin. You were tasked with maintaining the underground floors, ensuring they remained orderly. You weren’t allowed to venture beyond the floors beneath ground level. He treated you like a slave, proclaiming that you belonged to him in exchange for granting you eternal life. It was a twisted bargain that felt more like a curse. 

You had been above ground only once, it was a rare and seemingly indulgent gift from your master. He would normally bring you his kills to feed on but that night he had taken you out into the world, to teach you to hunt. It was exhilarating to experience the raw, primal instincts that surged within you. You hunted until dawn, the sun creeping up threateningly beyond the horizon.

The night had ended all too soon and you headed back home. You made it to the front of the tower, and just seconds before you were ushered inside, the sun rose, spilling soft gold and pink across the sky. You had caught your first glimpse of its light, radiant and breathtaking. It painted the world warm hues, something you had never seen in the cold tower. 

Your master’s hand gripped your shoulder. “We must return,” he said, his voice laced with authority as he ushered you back into the shadows. Since that one fateful night, you have never been allowed to see the surface again.

One night, curiosity got the better of you, and while your master was absent, you explored the tower. You snuck into the library and read until dawn. When the sun rose, you raced to the top floor and gazed out at the sunrise. You longed to bathe in its light, fully aware that it would be fatal. Your master had warned you that direct sunlight could kill you, only safe within the tower's shadows.

Everything changed one fateful night. You had taken a book from the library but your master returned sooner than you had expected. Despite the risks, you knew you had to return the book before he noticed. 

It was through the pages of his books that you discovered the truth. You were taught many things, but after reading his books how many of them had been true? The books told you stories about humans, the outside world, and important history. It revealed that while the sun wouldn’t kill you, it could weaken you, and that to regain any lost power, you must sleep. He had kept secrets from you, you couldn’t trust him. Maybe if you could escape, you could live among humans without fear? You’d never find out unless you returned the book. If your master discovered you had sneaked upstairs, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

The halls were quiet, and slipping the book back into place was easy. You were making your way back, using an old passageway you had stumbled across, when a flickering light caught your eye. The corridor was lined with doors, each one leading to a different part of the tower. Peeking through a crack in one door, you saw something chilling.

Your master stood in the center of a gathering room, surrounded by chained and shackled humans. An entire council of vampires filled the room, and the sight of the horrific treatment inflicted on the humans made you nauseous. They were beaten and tortured cruelly. Their screams echoed in your mind, and that night, you swore to escape. The humans you had read about had their faults but they did not deserve that. 

You thought you had everything figured out until three days later, when your master visited with a human man around your age. He offered no explanation, only instructing you to take care of him. You soon grew close to the human, who introduced himself as Kun. He quickly became your only friend, sharing stories about the outside world and his family. For two years, he stayed with you, working alongside you as a fellow slave. At first, you worried that your master would eat him, as it wasn’t like him to let food spoil. Eventually you stopped worrying about it and just learned to enjoy Kun’s company.

You showed Kun everything: the hidden passageways, the library, and the sunset whenever your master was away. You promised each other that when the time was right, you would escape together.

Then one night, your master woke you from a rare period of recharging. He had previously insisted you slept. You found it strange but you hadn’t argued. There was no reason for you to recharge, you spent most nights watching Kun sleep.

You instinctively turned towards his cot but it was empty. Before you could voice your concern, your master ushered you out of your room and upstairs to the gathering room you had once watched from the shadows. Ancient vampires surrounded the area, their underlings present as well.

In the middle of the room was Kun. He was stripped bare, bruises, scars and welts were painted across his once beautiful skin.  

“KUN!” you shouted, trying to rush to him, but your master’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He had the ability to compel, a power only ancient vampires possessed. You had read that the only way to break it was to call him by his true name, a name you didn’t know since you had only ever addressed him as “Master.” 

“MASTER!” you screamed, desperation rising in your voice. “PLEASE, STOP THIS!” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and you could feel yourself die. You knew you were already dead but this pain in your chest would have been fatal if you were moral.

“You brought this upon yourself, foolish girl,” he sneered. 

The other ancient vampires laughed at your distress, their underlings at their side, made to watch to teach them what would happen if they disobeyed their master.

“Make her suffer!”

“Look how she cares for that wretched human!” one of them jeered.

“Kill them both!” shouted another.

They hurled insults your way while you trembled under your master’s control.

“Did you think I was a fool? I knew what you were up to. I could smell you in the walls, you little rodent.”

“Please, Master, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” you begged.

“It’s not me you need to ask for forgiveness. It is him,” he said, gesturing a long finger at Kun. “Because of you, this is his fate.”

With an audience of ancient vampires, he turned to them proudly and declared, “Nothing but ruin can come from loving a human. Witness now the consequences of defying tradition. Drink from him!” he ordered.

Your body moved against your will. You fought against his compulsion with every ounce of strength, but each step felt heavier. Standing before Kun, you could see that he was barely breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he managed to whisper. With the last of his strength, he smiled weakly. “Don’t let him break you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you bared your teeth and sank them into him. You could feel his life slipping away, and as you drank, your heart shattered in silence.

Later that night, you were thrown back into your room. You didn't move for months. Staring blankly at the wall, you cried until the hunger became overwhelming. Your master hadn’t brought you any food, likely leaving you there to die. You couldn’t let that happen; you had promised Kun. 

Eventually, you found a way out. You fled during daylight, running until you could run no more. You felt the grass beneath your toes and the sun on your face. You ran so hard you broke your ankle in the process but by nightfall, it had healed. You lived as a nomad for years until you rolled into the city you now call home. Adjusting to your new life was a challenge at first, but eventually, you met a city vampire who taught you how to navigate life among humans.

Haechan listened intently, not interrupting once.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner; it was easier if you didn’t know,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry you had to carry all that alone," he replied gently. "I promise, you won’t have to go through that again. We’re stronger now.”

“That's it though,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “We’re not strong enough. You need to go back to your pack, Haechan. You can’t come back here. There are rules, and we have to uphold them.”

“I don’t see why we can’t see each other. I know you’re afraid, but you can’t just push me away.”

"You can’t just do whatever you want! This isn’t a game, and those rules are there for a reason—to keep people alive!" You didn’t want to sound harsh, but the history between wolves and vampires was too complicated to explain right now. “The others are probably already looking for you. I can’t have a fight breaking out if they catch you here.”

“So that’s it? I’m nothing to you now?” Haechan stood up, frustration etched across his face.

“That's not—” You take a deep breath. “I didn’t say that. It’s just… complicated.”

You heard a howl echo in the distance, and your heart sank. “We don’t have time to talk about this. You need to leave. Now!” You turned and headed toward your balcony; it was safer for him to leave the way he came. He wouldn’t run into anyone and he could head straight into the forest. You swung open the doors, only to be greeted by the last person you wanted to see.

“Where is he?” Jeno demanded.

You sighed, trying to keep your attitude in check. “He was scared.”

“I don’t know if you’ve understood this yet, but he’s one of us now. You need to stay away from him. I’m running out of warnings,” he snarled.

Haechan rounded the corner and met Jeno’s gaze. “Jeno, relax! You know her,” he said defensively.

Johnny chimed in, “you don’t understand, just stay out of this.”

Haechan stepped in front of you, shielding you. “Guys, seriously! We’ve hung out together plenty of times. Why is everyone suddenly so defensive?”

“I told you, Haechan, it’s different now. New rules apply because you’re different. You’re part of their pack, and I’m a vicious vampire,” you replied, your sarcasm biting.

“Sorry, dude, but that’s just the way things are,” Mark added.

“This is so stupid! I didn’t ask for this life, and now everyone’s trying to tell me what’s best for me!” Haechan yelled, frustration boiling over.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I know it’s unfair, love, but you have to go. I’ll see y—” You paused, stopping yourself from making any false promises. “Just… go with them, for me. Please?” You gave him your best pleading look, and slowly, he calmed down. Then he pulled you into a kiss. Neither of you wanted to pull away, but when he finally did, he turned away before you could see the tears threaten to fall. 

He walked toward Jeno and the others, but when Jeno reached out to put a comforting hand on Haechan's shoulder he shrugged it off with a low growl. They all jump from your balcony and when you look down below to where they land a pack of wolves stare back up at you before running off into the forest.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A year passed, and you hadn’t seen Haechan again. You were the one who had told him to stay away, but still, there were moments when you couldn't help but ask Mark about him. Mark was the most reasonable of their pack; you wouldn’t quite call him a friend, but you could manage more than a few words with him without the threat of a fight looming over you. The city was considered neutral territory, so running into a member of the pack while out and about was not uncommon.

“Mark told me Haechan is adjusting fine,” you shared with your friend Sooyoung as you leaned against your kitchen counter. “It took him a while, but he can control his powers now. Apparently, it took longer than usual because Haechan was still mad at them and refused to learn, but they’re on better terms now.”

“You’re living in a soap opera,” Sooyoung huffed, plopping down on one of your barstools, resting her head in her palm as she slouched over your countertop. “Are you really not going to see him?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.

“I can’t. I really can’t,” you stressed.

“Well then I’m tired of hearing about him,” she replied through a yawn. There were many myths about fairies, and one was that they couldn’t lie. While that wasn’t entirely true, they preferred not to, which made them incredibly blunt.

“Wow! What a great friend you are!” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

Sooyoung straightened up a bit as you focused on making dinner for the two of you. “I’m sorry,” she whined, “it’s not that I don’t care; it’s just that you clearly still care about him. I can’t watch you torture yourself like this. As your friend, I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy!” you shot back defensively.

“Not if all you talk about is your stupid wolf-turned-ex-boyfriend that you miss!” she countered.

“I don’t miss him!” you insisted.

“Do you think about him?” she asked knowingly.

“I do,” you admitted.

“And I have to hear about it all the time, every day, every minute.” she pointed out.

“I'm sorry.” You cringed.

“Why don’t you just go see him? Just once, for closure,” she added, trying to be convincing.

“But what if he’s moved on?” The thought plagued you, an echo in your mind. “He hasn’t come to see me at all.”

“He has his reasons, just as you’ve had yours,” she reminded you. You considered this as you took the dinner off the stove and plated it.

“Let’s just eat,” you said, setting the conversation aside for now. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You could feel eyes on you from the moment you woke from your slumber. The scent was unmistakably his—Haechan. Rising from your grave, you sensed his presence pulling away, retreating into the nearby woods. You knew you should let him go, but you couldn’t. Sooyoung was right; maybe you needed closure.

You followed him. His figure dashed gracefully through the undergrowth, and moonlight danced off his ash-grey fur, illuminating the way. He eventually led you into a clearing, where the moon cast a spotlight on him before he turned to face you. With a shake of his fur, he began the transformation you had seen so many times before. It unsettled you how his bones shifted and reshaped, until he stood before you—bare and vulnerable, yet undeniably Haechan.

“Why are you here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I missed you,” he replied, his eyes earnest.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed to see you,” he said, dismissing your warning. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“That's enough!” you yelled, emotions welling up inside you.

“I know you’ve been asking Mark about me. I know you still love me,” he said, stepping closer.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted. If he came any closer…

“That’s why you followed me here. Admit it,” he pushed, standing a breath away. He searched your eyes, as if looking for the truth that lay hidden in your heart. “Admit it.”  He says almost like he's trying to convince himself as well.

You didn’t stop him when his lips met yours. It was a desperate kiss, and you found yourself kissing him back instinctively. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest, as if he feared you would slip away again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly. But before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowed as he reached out to pull you back into his embrace.

“You know what's wrong.” you managed to say, your mind racing. “We can’t.”

Haechan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “What’s your issue?! I can see it all over your face. You still love me; why are you fighting it? What are you so afraid of?”

“Losing you!” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally let the walls come crashing down. “You’re so damn stupid!” You closed the distance once more, pounding your fists against his chest. “Why couldn’t you just stay away?” 

He let you unleash your anger, waiting patiently until you had calmed down. Then, he wrapped you in his arms again, grounding you as your knees wobbled. You buried your face in his chest with a sob.

Haechan wasn't as ignorant as he was in the past. He knew the history between werewolves and vampires but eons of bad blood wasn't enough to keep him from you. He was fully aware of the dangers that came with being with you but he would rather die fighting for you than to do nothing at all. 

Vampires had a long history of hunting werewolves. They were the only creature that could rival their speed and strength. It was a sport, a display of dominance, to show that they were the apex predator. Treaties were signed but broken, territories marked, and warnings sent. Vampires and werewolves had learned that the best way to keep the peace was to stay far apart from one another. Most city vampires were progressive, they partied with elves, drank with werewolves, and got high off pixie dust. They mingled across species, but such alliances were frowned upon by the more traditional clans. Any love across species was seen as a betrayal, deserving of the fiercest punishment—blood spilled in the name of ancient grudges. You could be branded a traitor just for showing kindness to a werewolf.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, and you won’t let anything happen to me. We were together when I was human, and that was probably more dangerous,” he pointed out.

“I know, and I was selfish,” you admitted.

“Well, now it’s my turn to be selfish. Just let me see you,” he said earnestly.

“This is not a good idea,” you warned, but his pleading gaze softened your resolve.

He must have sensed your wavering will, as he pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. “Please,” he begged.

“Fine,” you said with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Just as he was about to celebrate and pull you into another kiss, you raised a finger to his lips. “But that doesn’t mean we’re dating! And the moment your pack finds out about this…” You gestured between the two of you with your free hand, “whatever this is, it’s done.”

“Deal,” he mumbled against your finger before you pulled it away.

You turned to walk away, glancing back over your shoulder before disappearing behind the trees. Haechan stood there, wearing the dopiest smile you had ever seen. “Stop looking at my ass, Haechan. Go home!” you shouted.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You and Haechan had been stealing moments together ever since that night. You found eachother in the dark corners of clubs, had picnics on abandoned rooftops under the moon, and shared intimate conversations beneath the ancient canopy of trees in the depths of the forest

Tonight you texted Haechan to meet you at an abandoned amusement park in the next city over. It took a few hours to run there, but you loved the freedom of it—being stuck in a car always felt so suffocating.  When you arrived you settled into one of the old, rusted teacups.  You heard rustling from the trees behind you and Haechan emerged in his wolf form, a backpack clamped between his teeth. When he shifted back to his human form, you instinctively looked away. The brief glimpse of his bare skin sent your mind racing with thoughts that definitely crossed the line of friendship. You reminded yourself for the hundredth time that you were just friends and friends don’t think about their friends like that. The sound of him unzipping his backpack and rummaging through clothes broke your train of thought as he started getting dressed.

“You can turn around now, darling,” he said, his voice teasing.

You hopped out of the teacup and ran right into him, relief washing over you. You’d missed him so much, and honestly, you didn’t even care that he smelled like a puppy—you buried your face in his neck.

“Hey hey, watch those teeth,” he joked.

You pulled away and playfully shoved him. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How have you been?”

“Terrible. We took in a stray recently,” he replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. “His name’s Jisung. We found him while traveling. Total troublemaker, so they dumped him on me. Ugh, he’s been giving me a headache! I was lucky to sneak away tonight.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” you said, your voice playful as you both started to walk deeper into the amusement park. 

“No way! I was not like that! He’s just so moody sometimes, such a teenager,” Haechan replied, shaking his head.

“I forgot, you had a valid reason for being so angsty.”

“Yeah, she’s standing right in front of me,” he said, then playfully tickled your sides, making you giggle.

You and Haechan were in a good place now, able to joke about the past without any hard feelings. You cherished these moments together and loved being with him.

“How did you find this place anyway?” he asked as you passed a distorted funhouse, a shiver running down his spine. “It’s creepy.”

“Is my puppy scared?” you mocked.

“I’m not scared!” he insisted with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You skipped a few steps ahead before turning around to face him. “Oh yeah? And what if I just left you right here?”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Very funny, but I’m faster than you now.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged.

“Yeah.” He says confidently. 

“Race you to the top of the Ferris wheel then!” you exclaimed and took off.

You sprinted toward the Ferris wheel on the other side of the park, Haechan hot on your heels. As you dashed past a few booths, you grabbed some old, soggy plushies and hurled them at him.

“That’s so gross!” he yelled, dodging them with ease.

Determined to leave him in the dust, you picked up speed. You leaped over old concession carts and swung through the spider ride, with its twisting central column and spinning arms. With a laugh, you propelled yourself off its arms, feeling the rush of adrenaline. Haechan dropped down onto the car behind you before launching himself off to chase you.

“Catch up, slowpoke!” you called, glancing back as the Ferris wheel loomed closer.

Tension built in your legs, and you sprang forward, grabbing one of the metal bars of the ride and climbing higher. It was massive, and when you looked down, you were surprised to see Haechan close behind, springing off each bar with the agility of a cat. You swung from bar to bar, pulling yourself up and up. There was a car waiting at the top, and that was your goal.

As you climbed, you glanced down to gauge how far Haechan was, but he was suddenly nowhere to be seen. You froze for a moment, scanning the ride. 

Your breath caught—though you didn't technically need to breathe, the habit was hard to shake. From this height, he could’ve easily fallen and gotten hurt. Werewolves were resilient, but they weren't immortal. They could almost live forever with how slowly they aged, as long as they weren’t mortally wounded. 

“HAECHAN!” you called out worriedly. “THIS ISN'T FUNNY! WHERE ARE YOU?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the night.

Just then, a laugh rang out. “Who’s scared now?” He called down to you from the passenger car at the very top.

A wave of relief washed over you. In no time, you reached the top and stood on the outerrail of the car while he lounged in the seat. The sides of the car weren't enclosed, allowing you to lean in and meet his gaze with a glare. “I thought you fell!” You grumbled.

“Sorry, babe. Couldn't let you win,” he said, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down.”

You ambled into the car and sat down across from him. “Don’t be mad,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come sit by me.”

You uncrossed your arms, giving up the act; it had been too long since you last saw him. You slid over, the seat snug but cozy enough for both of you. It was probably intended for moments like this—everyone knew that when you reached the top of the Ferris wheel you were supposed to kiss.

He nudged you playfully, and you met his gaze. “I was counting down the days until I saw you again,” he confessed softly.

You returned his smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “I missed you too.” He took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, his lips lingering longer than necessary before he pulled away.

He intertwined your fingers and looked up to the night sky. “You can see The Great Bear from here,” he remarked.

Following his gaze, you noted how Ursa Major shone brightly against the dark canvas of the sky. “Have I ever told you the story behind that constellation?” you asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he shook his head.

With a grin, you turned to him, relishing the moment. “In Greek mythology, Zeus once fell in love with a nymph named Callisto. When his wife Hera found out, she turned her into a bear.”

“Sounds like something you would do,” Haechan snickered.

“Except I would turn you into the bear,” you elbowed him playfully.

“Oww!” he laughed, rubbing his side dramatically.

A comfortable silence settled around you as you enjoyed each other’s company. Leaning against him, you closed your eyes, letting the peaceful moment wash over you.

“I love you,” he whispered, a soft vulnerability in his voice. Sitting up, you looked at him, his expression revealing that he was about to say something that he shouldn’t. You could see the longing in his eyes, how he yearned for you. He still wanted more.

Before he could voice his feelings, before he could reopen the wounds you both had worked so hard to heal, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was electric, you knew you couldn’t say it out loud so you put all your love and heartache into the kiss.

His hands held the sides of your face firmly, anchoring you in place as he refused to let you pull away. With a fervor you had almost forgotten, he deepened the kiss, a low moan escaping him as your tongues danced together. It was a sound so full of desire it sent heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn't help the slickness that dripped into your underwear.

You found yourself whining into his mouth, and the low growl that rumbled from his chest only encouraged you further. You fought to maintain control, willing your hands to stay in your lap. You knew the moment you touched him you wouldn’t let him go. 

His fingers found their way to your waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your hands scramble to grip onto the rail behind him. The car swayed wildly with the motion of your bodies. A part of you tried to speak, to remind him that this was dangerous but he only pulled you back into the searing kiss in response. You didn’t complain when he started grinding you down against him, you had forgotten how well you fit together. You could feel his hard length pressed against you, and the realization made your head swim. You hadn't been touched like this in what felt like an eternity, and the sensation was overwhelming.

His hands began to roam your body, mapping out every curve. When he cupped your breast, a soft moan escaped your lips making him shudder. The world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was the way his hands trailed down your waist, gripping your ass possessively. The way his hips began to thrust up in desperation had you seeing stars. He held you there, utterly lost in the way you felt pressed against him. You gripped the railing tighter, your fingers bending the metal beneath your grasp. You had to stay in control.

You managed to whisper a single word against his lips, "fuck." His hand had trailed under your shirt, sending shivers of delight down your spine. But as much as you wanted to continue, the way the passenger cart was creaking was starting to worry you. You pulled away, using your strength to push his chest. You had him pinned, his back against the seat. For a fleeting moment, his eyes flashed a deeper shade of red, a hint of a growl forming on his lips, raw desire evident in his gaze.

You stood your ground, a playful smirk on your face. "Down, boy," you said with a raised eyebrow.

"This thing is old, it's too dangerous to stay up here. Come on, we need to get down," you said firmly, the reality of the situation snapping him back to attention.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he replied, trying to mask his frustration with a hint of amusement. 

You sit still in haechans lap until the cart stops moving. When the cart slowly ceased its swaying you sighed in relief, grateful that the groaning of the rusted cart had silenced. However, just as you began to relax, a sudden crash startled you—the door fell off its hinges, clattering loudly as it hit everything in its path on its way down to the ground.

You jumped at the sound, heart racing, and exchanged a panicked look with Haechan. The spell of the previous excitement diminished, and you both burst into laughter.

“See what I mean?” he said. “This place is a death trap!”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of thrilling, don’t you think? A little dangerous excitement?” 

"You're crazy," he teased, helping you off his lap as you two made your way down.

“You loved every second of it.” 

You made it to the ground safely, and as you turned to Haechan, curiosity etched on your face, "Hey, have you presented yet?" you asked. As a golden-eyed wolf, Haechan held a neutral status, but it was possible for his eye color to shift to either red or blue once he presented - red for an alpha, blue for an omega.

He looked at you with a questioning expression, "No, why?" he asked.

You teased, "No reason, I just thought it would be cute if your eyes matched mine."

“Ah, like a couple's item,” he said, a grin breaking across his face.

“More like a friendship bracelet,” you corrected.

“Or like matching wedding rings,” he countered, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Like matching t-shirts,” you playfully curved him again.

His expression shifted slightly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You want me to be your alpha, is that it? Want me to dominate you?” His words hung in the air, full of just the right amount of flirtation.

You knew he was joking, but the way he said it stirred something deep within you. 

Desperate to regain your composure, you shot him a playful glare, trying to mask your reaction. "Very funny, Haechan," you replied, rolling your eyes, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. The tension between you was thick, a swirl of playful teasing and underlying desire, and you both seemed acutely aware of it.

“Just imagine it,” he continued, leaning closer with mock seriousness. “Matched for life. You, me, and our golden-eyed offspring.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming.” Even though you tried to shake off the feeling, you could sense your face getting hot. 

 Noticing your reaction, Haechan's eyes crinkled at the corners, and he looked at you with a pleased smile. “Oh? You like that idea, huh.” He teases.

You stalked off, leaving him to follow beside you with a knowing smirk. "Shut up or I will kill you," you threatened, trying to mask your emotions.

"That's against the rules, you know that, babe," he tuts.  "Besides, I'd like to see you try. You vampires aren't so scary, you know."

"Another challenge? You don't get sick of losing, do you?"

"I won the first one," he shot back, a flicker of pride in his voice.

"I let you win," you replied.

A fire ignited behind his eyes. "You did not let me win."

"If that's what helps you sleep at night," you teased, pushing all the right buttons to rile him up. He was super competitive so it was easy.

He leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. "Okay, fine, you wanna play like that? I got a game for you. We have a few more hours before sunrise. You down?" The devilish smile on his face was one you knew better than to trust.

"Depends on what it is," you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

"You think you’re faster and stronger than me, so let's put it to the test," he proposed, his grin broadening. "If I manage to rip your shirt off, I win. If you can evade me for a full hour, you win. Like that running man show we always watched." 

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "What the hell? You just want to take my shirt off!" you argued.

"Then you better not let me catch you," he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the challenge that sparked within you. "Fine, it will be fun knocking you down a few pegs anyway." 

He gave you a minute head start, and without hesitation, you took off, the ground fading beneath your feet as you covered hundreds of yards in no time. The scent of pine and damp earth filled your senses, and with every stride, you pushed yourself to create as much distance as possible.

But even with your impressive speed, you knew you couldn’t hide your scent from him; the bloodhound instincts of a wolf would always lead him straight to you. You would have to rely on your speed if you wanted to win, there was no point in hiding. You listened intently to the sounds of the night, and soon enough, the heavy gait of Haechan, now in his wolf form, reached your ears. He was fast, closing the gap between you with each passing second. You continue running. You fly through the trees, running, jumping and swinging between the branches. You propelled yourself farther and farther, you had been running at full speed for 30 minutes just to keep him off your heels and it was starting to annoy you how easily he was able to keep up. You had 30 more minutes and you were sick of running. You had to outsmart him if you wanted to win.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you decided to lead him to the place where you knew you could gain the upper hand: the fun house. You had been there before, giggling and disoriented off pixie dust during a fairy rave.You got trapped in the funhouse for hours. 

You circled back, running until you were back at the amusement park. The giant tattered circus tent of the fun house comes into view and you look behind your shoulder to make sure Haechan was following. He was close, a few yards back. 

As you rounded the corner into the funhouse, you felt a surge of confidence. With your last burst of energy, you darted through the maze of mirrors, instinctively weaving and dodging obstacles while leaving your scent against every reflective surface. The idea was solid; if you covered the place with your scent, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint where you were. You hid at the end and waited.

A soft growl echoed through the maze, and the sound of Haechan's frustration made you suppress a giggle. When he entered the mirror maze, it was as if the walls began to close around him, reflecting his struggling figure infinitely. You could hear him bumping into the mirrored walls and howling in annoyance. He's about half way through when he gives up and decides he wants to go back before he realizes he can't. He's too deep inside now and he's stuck. 

“Stuck already, big bad wolf?” you thought, grinning to yourself.

He lets out a howl when he bumps into another mirror. You have to hold in your laughter. Time began to slip away, and after about twenty minutes of him navigating the maze, he finally broke through to the exit. 

When he finds you waiting at the exit he speeds towards you. You curse under your breath, you only had a few minutes left now but you couldn't outrun him. You're able to get back to the forest, hoping the natural obstacles of trees and bushes might buy you the time you need but it doesn't. 

He charged at you, and with a yelp, he tackled you to the ground. You laughed uncontrollably when he shifted back to human, completely naked and utterly unbothered by his state.

The forest floor was cool beneath your back, the damp moss pressing into your skin as you struggled against him. It was chaos, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, one moment he was on top, and the next, you had somehow reversed your positions. The thrill of victory rushed through you as you caught his hands, using your strength to roll him onto his back while you straddle his waist.

A triumphant smile spread across your face as you taunted him, “Give it up. Only a minute left.”

His lips curled into a sly smirk, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “I’m letting you win,” he insisted, echoing your earlier words with a gleam of defiance in his eyes. 

You leaned down, your hair brushing against his cheeks as you whispered in his ear, “Oh, is that why you’re under me? What happened to dominating me?”

 His gaze flickered, a flash of something feral erupting within their depths. Before you could react, he was moving—too fast, too strong. In an instant, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. The other tore at your shirt, you gasped as he ripped your shirt from your body.

“Not so tough now are you?” he says, his smirk widening.  But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes as they roam down to your chest. “Looks like I win.” His voice drifts away, leaving a thick silence between you. 

You lie beneath him in the tatters of your shirt, your bra and a pair of low-rise skinny jeans. You can’t help but notice how hard he’s becoming against you. Your gaze trails over his exposed skin and lingering on the hard lines of his muscles until they reach his length. You bite your lip at how red the tip of his dick was. 

“I guess you did win,” you breathe out, your voice heavy with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the raw effort it takes for him to hold himself back. “But I think a victory like this deserves a prize.”

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and demanding, stealing the air from your lungs. You moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body against yours. Twigs and leaves tangle in your hair but you didn’t care. You needed him—needed this—more than anything. He broke the kiss abruptly to undress you, his lips trailing down your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone before sinking in just enough to make you gasp. A shiver ran down your spine as his claws pricked at your skin, trailing down your side before retracting, leaving only the warmth of his palm groping your breast roughly.

“Haechan,” you whimpered, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

He breathed you in deeply. “I could smell you,” he murmured, his voice raspy. “The moment you saw me, I could smell how much you wanted me. But you always want to play the good girl, don’t you? The rule-follower.” His lips found your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe as he added, “Want to act like you don’t like me… but look at you now.”

You whined again, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, kissing, licking, biting—claiming every inch of your body as his. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t want him to be. His tongue traced the curve of your breast, sucking and teasing until you were writhing beneath him, begging for more.

He trails his kisses down your body until his head is between your thighs. He lifts your legs over his shoulders and got comfortable. You see it for certain this time, his eyes glow crimson. His gaze stays locked on you the entire time as he works his tongue between your folds, collecting your slick and slurping noisily on your juices. He sucks ruthlessly at your clit and you're no match for his strength when you try to close your legs around his head. His claws dig into the skin of your thighs as he holds you open. His tongue is so slick and he's basically drooling as he devours you. The entire lower half of his face is soaked. You throw your head back in pleasure and claw at the ground beside you. 

“Yes Haechan!” You moaned as your hips kicked up and grind against his tongue. You chase your release unashamed. 

You were always weak to his touch but there was something about him now that just made you want to submit to his every order. 

When he sat up, plunging two fingers deep inside you, you rode your high out on his fingers, your legs trembling with the force of your release. You lay there, spent and shuddering. Your legs are shaking pathetically when he sits up. The moon behind him shines its light down on him. He obscures the view enough for it to look like a halo above his head. 

The red in his eyes is nothing but devilish as he licks his lips. “Turn over.” He commands. 

You didn’t hesitate, rolling onto your hands and knees as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, claws pricking at your skin as he pulled you back against him. 

He was everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, your hair, your throat—filling you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Each thrust was punishing, driving the air from your lungs and drawing a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. You were certain he would have broken you if you were human.

This was exactly what you had needed. You liked it rough, and in the past, while Haechan did his best to indulge you, he was afraid of hurting you. He didn't know you were a vampire; he didn’t know you could take it.

You could feel the same doubt begin to cloud his judgment as his touch became lighter and his thrusts shallower as he noticed just how rough he had been. In a sudden surge of frustration, you whipped your head back, baring your fangs to make it unmistakably clear what you were and what you could handle. “Do I need to remind you of what I am?” you hissed, your voice low and thick with desire. “Don’t hold back.”

The last remnants of his control snap, and he thrusts into you roughly. A heavy hand pushes your skull down into the damp moss while the other maintains the perfect arch in your back, elevating your hips as he fucks into you. Your eyes roll back, lost in pleasure as he mounts you, his hips snapping relentlessly against you over and over again.

His grip tightens, pulling you back to meet each primal thrust. He was treating you like a rag doll, and you loved every minute of it. It hurt good, the pain reminding you of what it felt like to be alive. 

With a fierce handful of your hair, he pulls you up, leaning down to press hot, wet kisses against the side of your mouth. His grip moves from your hair to your neck, his fingers constricting around your throat choking you. You smile up at him, your expression wild and hungry as he takes you. 

He was so deep, you could feel the delicious ache of him inside you, as if he were going to tear you apart. You haven't been to recharge so you know that the marks he left wouldn’t fade immediately. You wanted to admire the bruises on your skin for days, to remember him long after he had pulled away.

You don’t think there’s a single coherent thought behind his eyes, just a primal urge to stuff you full. He’s mumbling into your shoulder, biting the skin there before sinking his teeth in, and you whine, clenching down hard around him. His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he releases deep inside you, his body seemingly on autopilot, his hips continuing to thrust rhythmically as if driven by instinct. He pushes deeper and deeper, fucking you until the mixture of your combined release seeps out around his thick cock. With a violent shudder, you cum so hard your cunt pushes him out momentarily but he’s back inside you in seconds, helping you ride your high.

“Stupid puppy, fucked himself dumb?” you tease with a smile.

He's too far gone to register your insult. He pulls out, flipping you onto your side, sliding himself in between your legs, straddling one while throwing the other over his shoulder. He grips your thigh tightly and fucks into you again, still impossibly hard. You could never get enough of him. He hugs your leg as he thrusts, and you reach down, circling your clit, the pressure building again as his breath comes out in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good. I don’t think I can stop. Please, don’t make me stop,” he whines, the desperation in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You pull him down to connect your lips. The kiss is raw and hungry, filled with teeth as you try to kiss him but every thrust that jolts your body upward makes it difficult. You could feel yourself growing closer and you cum again, soaking his length even more. He follows soon after, burying himself deep within you as he releases his hot cum, his body twitching with the force of his release.

Hours slip by in the haze of pleasure, the sun beginning to rise by the time he finally pulls out. He’s out cold, and the fangs and claws that once decorated him are nowhere to be seen; he looks entirely human now, vulnerable and peaceful.

Whatever power he had, he’s completely drained himself of it. You’re spent too, but you gather just enough strength to stand. The sun is creeping higher and you have to get home before it fully rises, or you risk losing the last remnants of energy you have left to make the run. You consider waking him to say goodbye but he looks too peaceful. You prayed he would understand your reasoning.

Ultimately, you slip away, making it home just before the sun breaks the horizon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The past couple of weeks have left you feeling rejuvenated, like there’s a hidden spring in your step that wasn’t there before. Sooyoung, your ever-observant best friend, quickly pieces things together. You haven't mentioned your encounter with Haechan at the amusement park yet—mostly because you know she would freak out and bombard you with a million questions. Honestly, you didn’t need your best friend knowing just how much of a slut you were for your self-proclaimed mortal enemy.

Sooyoung's knowing smile has been ever-present, and you glare at her from across the couch while she takes a sip from her coffee mug. “What?” you ask, feigning annoyance.

“Nothing. Nothing,” she replies, her eyes flickering back to the movie, but you can sense her amusement. A few moments pass, and, unable to contain her excitement, her gaze shifts back to you, her smile widening. 

“Okay, seriously, what is it?” you exclaim, shoving her playfully.

Sooyoung shrugs, taking a long sip before speaking. “That’s a nice mark you’ve got there on your shoulder. Who’d you get that from?” she asks pointedly.

Your expression falters as you realize that your shirt has slid off your shoulder, revealing the bruise he left behind, the one you had tried to cover with makeup. You curse under your breath.

“No need to be ashamed, girl. I knew the day was coming sooner or later!” she laughs. “But if you think you’re leaving without telling me what happened, you’re high off pixie dust.”

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through. Before you know it, you’re giggling and screaming, overwhelmed with excitement. Sooyoung smacks you lightly on the arm, her own laughter ringing out. “No way, tell me! He got you kicking your feet like that?”

You spill everything that happened and by the end of it, Sooyoung is standing up from the couch. “We need to go out! He broke your dry spell, this calls for a celebration!”

You playfully smack her on the butt as she turns toward the remote to switch off the TV. “Shut up,” you laugh.

You can hear the bass thumping even before you step into the old, abandoned church. City vampires know how to throw the best raves, and you’re not surprised to see half of the city’s paranormal packed inside. 

Sooyoung drops her cloak, her wings unfurling gracefully across her back as she shrinks down a few sizes. At parties like this, no one bothers to cloak. Within the weathered walls of the church, every supernatural creature is free to shed their human facades and embrace their true forms. You allow your eyes to gleam a deep crimson, fangs brushing your bottom lip as you lose yourself to the pulsating rhythm of the music. 

Hours slip by before you even realize it. The music here is enchanted—not so overwhelming that it would keep you dancing to the brink of exhaustion, but just enough to carry good vibes throughout the crowd. It also amplifies the high from the pixie dust, ensuring that everyone who joins in the dance has a good trip.

“I'm gonna go find a pixie! Want to come?” Sooyoung asks over the pulsating beats.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, waving her off. She nods and heads off into the crowd while you make your way out back to get some fresh air.

Stepping outside, you spot a few couples making out against the building while others drift in quiet conversation. One familiar figure catches your eye. Jeno was leaning against a tree smiling at something on his phone.

Curiosity piqued, you walked up to him. “What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Looking after my pack. Why are you bothering me?” he replies, not bothering to look up.

“Just making small talk, you infuriating mutt,” you roll your eyes.

“Your boyfriend’s also a mutt, so how’s that make you feel?” He shoots back.

You glare at him, feeling a pang of irritation. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” you snap, afraid the wrong crowd might overhear.

“Right, that’s too bad,” he smirks, finally looking at you.

“And why is that?” you grit your teeth.

“You didn’t know? He presented. He’ll be going into rutt soon and he’s gonna need a mate if he wants to survive it.”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to ask what he presented as, it was obvious.

“You know, my dad’s been trying to find someone compatible with him.” Jeno says, an edge of satisfaction in his tone.

“And that’s probably going as well as it did for you,” you shot back. “Your sorry self is still alone. What, are you jealous that you'll have to jerk it solo during your rutt?” Venom laced your words.

Jeno’s smile grows wider, and he knows he's hit a nerve. “Don’t be too sad when he stops coming around. I warned you,” he says, shoulder checking you and heading back into the party.

You felt sick. If what jeno said was true Haechan would be looking for a mate to satisfy his rutt. Just like that your world crashes down around you. You go back inside and look for Sooyoung. When you finally locate her, it’s in the storage room, where she’s wrapped up in a makeout session with Renjun, a pixie you recognize as her casual fling.

“We need to go,” you insist, cutting right through their moment.

Renjun pressed a lingering kiss to her neck as she glanced past him at you, surprise flickering across her face. “Aww, but it was just getting fun,” she pouted.

“Well, I’m heading home,” you state flatly. “I don’t feel good.” Without waiting for her to pull herself from Renjun's embrace, you race home

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had been days since you heard from Haechan; he wasn’t answering your texts or returning your calls. It was rare for him to be home anymore, so you weren’t surprised to find his place empty when you went to check on him. Had his rutt already begun? You cringed at the thought and quickly shook it from your mind. If he were in rutt, they would have found him someone to lay with by now.

You realized that constantly thinking about him was driving you crazy. You needed a distraction. You left your home and headed to the library, but all you could think about were those late nights helping him study within those four walls. You decided to visit Sooyoung, hoping she could take your mind off things, but  she had taken too much pixie dust at the last party and was still coming down from the high. 

There was only one place you knew where you could silence your thoughts. You needed to recharge. Maybe if you slept long enough, you could forget about what Jeno had told you, maybe even forget about Haechan.

It wasn’t until you reached the cemetery that you realized tonight was a full moon. If Haechan had truly gone into rutt, it would officially begin tonight. A wave of bloodlust washed over you as tormenting images of Haechan with someone else flooded your mind. Maybe he was right; perhaps you and Hera did share some traits after all.

You could become deadly when you were jealous.

You locked yourself in your coffin, fighting the urge to storm into werewolf territory and tear them all apart. They weren’t the only ones who became stronger under a full moon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The lid of your casket slid open, and when you locked eyes with the person who dared to interrupt your sleep, a primal urge to rip his throat out surged through you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey, wait!” Mark shouted, jumping back several feet. You rose from your coffin, the scent surrounding you immediately igniting a rage.

The last thing you wanted to smell upon waking up was mutt.

“What the hell are you doing in my territory?” you snapped, your voice icy cold. “This breaks the treaty, and I have free rein to murder all of you.”

You scanned the graveyard, spotting Ten, Johnny, and Yangyang standing several yards away. Jeno and Jaehyun were closer, but not close enough to be within your reach, unlike Mark—who was either brave or incredibly stupid for waking you.

“Guys, I told you this was a bad idea,” Mark whined.

“She likes you the most; she would have killed me already if I'd woken her up,” Jeno replied, arms crossed.

“You have five seconds to explain what’s going on before I use your hide to make myself a coat,” you threatened, your patience wearing thin.

“It’s Haechan! He needs you!” Mark exclaimed, hands raised defensively.

You dropped your guard. “What? What happened?” You asked, stalking closer and gripping him by the front of his shirt.

“He’s in rutt. We tried to find him a partner to help him through it, but he refused. He’s getting more and more agitated as the days pass, and usually, the rutt would be dying down by now, but it isn’t,” Mark huffed, worry etched on his face as he recalled the events.

That idiot—what did he think he was doing?

“Dad thinks he’ll drive himself insane if he keeps refusing his urges,” Jeno butts in.

“How long has he been like that?” you demanded.

“Three days,” Jaehyun spoke up. “As much as we don’t like it, he’s our brother, and we can’t lose him. You need to go to him.”

“You waited three days to find me?” you yelled, incredulous.

“We thought he would break eventually, but now he just becomes aggressive if an omega tries to come near him,” Johnny explained, cautiously stepping closer now that he was certain you wouldn’t try to kill anyone.

“Well, let’s go,” you said, preparing to run off, until Jeno stepped in front of you. “If you like your head being on your shoulders, I’d move.” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? If he hurts you, he’ll never forgive us for bringing you to him in this condition,” Jeno continued, his concern evident.

You flashed him a confident smile. “Fully charged.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

This time, when you crossed into werewolf territory, the atmosphere was far less hostile. Jeno and Jaehyun led the way and eventually brought you into a secluded room where a heavy door stood, carved with symbols that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. You could feel the whispers of magic, familiar and foreign all at once. To the side, a hidden passageway led down a narrow set of stairs, the faint echo of your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls as you descended.

“You’ve been keeping him locked up underground?” you questioned, a wave of memories from your past life flashing before your eyes. 

“This is where we all go during the first rut. It can be dangerous,” Jaehyun explained. “The same goes for newly turned werewolves. If they can’t find control, the only way to keep everyone safe is to let them weather the storm down here.”

You finally reached a door at the end of the hallway. Jaehyun paused, the concern etched on his face deepening. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re asking,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Well, we’ll be out here if you need us. Just yell,” Jeno said. He handed you a key, it's cold metal feeling heavy in your palm.

The door loomed before you, heavy and imposing, its surface cool to the touch as you reached for the handle. You stepped into the room, and your heart sank at the sight of Haechan. He was lying on the bed, shackled to the floor, but the chains were long enough to allow him some space to move around. 

His red eyes snapped to you the moment you entered, studying your figure in the middle of the room. He was barely dressed, clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, and the covers beneath him were shredded to pieces. The remnants of furniture lay scattered around, completely demolished, and the walls bore deep, angry scars. Some looked like old wounds, while others appeared fresh, no doubt done by Haechan.

A sheen of sweat coated his tan skin, his hair matted to his forehead. Before you could process it, he was in front of you, moving faster than you’d ever seen him. If you had been any closer, he might have reached out to grab you. He thrashed against his restraints, hands straining towards you in desperation.

You weren’t afraid; there was no hesitation as you stepped into his embrace.

He pulls you close against his chest, his grip possessive and strong. He was burning like a furnace against you. “I missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. “I’ve been waiting, holding on for you.” You can feel his arousal pressing stiff against your stomach. Your body reacts immediately to him, your nipples harden and you can feel yourself getting wet.

“It’s okay, let go,” you reassure him, using the key Jeno had given you earlier to unbind him. “I trust you.”

As the last of his shackles clatter to the floor, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he slams you against the nearest wall. He bites your lip before he rips your shirt down the middle, pulling away just enough to attach his mouth to one of your breasts, his other hand eagerly exploring your body. He humps at your leg pathetically, dragging his cock over the rough fabric of your jeans.

You fumble with your pants, realizing too late that you should have chosen something with easier access. His patience wears thin, and with a flash of claws, he impatiently rips the crotch from your jeans. The cold air immediately hits your wet core, and Haechan inhales deeply. He drops to his knees in seconds, shoving his nose deep in your cunt, he wanted to drown in your scent.

“Haechan,” you gasp, instinctively pushing his head away.

One of his hands grips both your wrists tightly, pinning them against your lower stomach as he leans in closer, inhaling your scent like it’s the sweetest perfume. You glance down to find him stroking himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He buries his face deeper, forcing his tongue between your legs. You can feel the tip of his tongue prod at the tight rim of your asshole. Heat rushes to your face as you try to close your thighs, but he pulls back only to bite your thigh in warning.

“Don’t fight me. You’re going to lose,” he huffs.

You shiver at his command, surrendering as you throw a leg over his shoulder. He instantly resets his focus, lapping at you while moaning in appreciation. 

“God,” he exhales, the muscles in his arms straining as he grips himself tighter, strokes growing rough and desperate. His eyes screw shut in frustration. “Not enough, I need you.” 

He manhandles you, turning you to face the wall and pressing you firmly against it. Your jeans cling uncomfortably to your skin as he grips your hips tightly. In one deep thrust, he’s inside you, and it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. He feels different from before—thicker—and you can’t help but rise onto your tiptoes with every deep thrust. You brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the surface.

“You don’t know how bad I wished you were here. I needed you,” he grunts. His thrusts grow more aggressive. “Where the hell were you? Huh?” His grip tightens in your hair, forcing you to look back at him.

You whimper, brain fogging as he stretches you open. “I’m here, Haechan. I’ll always be right here.

You feel the familiar heat building within you, and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. “That’s right, baby. Give it to me.”

You come hard and he pulls out, dropping to his knees to lick deep inside you as he ate you out from the back. He wanted to taste every last drop of you and you would let him suck you dry.

You don't realize he's thrown you on the bed until you're staring at the ceiling, the tattered sheets beneath you. He crawls towards you, like a predator about to catch his prey. Gripping your ankle, he pulls you closer, ripping your pants off.  When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on his lips. 

He sinks back into you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against him, your nails raking down his chest as he takes you. 

“Mmh fuck.” He whines.

His mouth drops open in pleasure and you can tell he appreciates the way your pussy grips him. He looks like hes on cloud nine as he fucks you into the bed. You were exactly what he had been needing these past few days. You grip the hair at the back of his nape and pull. He moans breathlessly and his next thrust is so sharp it knocks you up the bed a few inches.

“Alpha,” you moan.

He grips your thighs, pressing them against your chest, holding you in place as he ravages you. The sound of the bed creaking fills the room with each thrust, the headboard connecting rhythmically with the wall. He doesn’t relent, his hand gripping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. “Say it again.”

“Alpha!” you scream as he abuses your cunt. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, capturing your lips in a quick messy kiss. “Say it.”

“I'm yours, only yours.”

As he releases his grip on your face, he pulls your hair, making you watch as he thrusts between your legs. “Look at how you take me. So fucking beautiful.” He growls.

He quickened his pace, raw and desperate, and the bed shakes beneath you.

“Shit” you scream.  You dig your nails into his shoulder and take it. You cling to him, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure builds low in your belly. His lips find yours again, silencing your moans as he fucks you with an intensity that borders on pain. But it’s perfect—it’s everything you both needed.

You don't even get the chance to warn him when you come around him, clamping down impossibly tight. He fucks you into the mattress, unable to hold back and the bed shakes so forcefully it gives out under you, collapsing to the ground with a loud creak. He doesn’t look up, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t care.

He buries his face into your neck and chants your name. You could feel him swelling inside of you and he bites down hard onto your shoulder hips stilling as he spills into you. 

He rolls you on top of him but stays buried inside of you. Knotting you to make sure not a drop of his cum spills out. You take a look around the room, your shredded clothes lay haphazardly on the ground and the bed lies in splinters below you. You laugh breathlessly before snuggling closer to him.

“I'm sorry I was so late,” you say. “When they told me you were in rutt I thought you would take someone else.”

“Never. You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want.”

You smile, tracing patterns on his chest. “Good. Because I’m not sharing.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. He looks at peace, his eyes no longer clouded with desperation.

A loud knock echoes through the room.

“Haechan!” Jeno’s voice calls from outside the door. “If you're back to normal We need to talk. Now.”

Your body stiffens at his voice. You had forgotten they were out there.

You feel Haechan’s body stiffen as well, his grip on you tightening. “What is it?” he barks, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“It’s serious. Dad found out about her being here. He’s ordered everyone to the meeting hall… including her.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It isn’t until much later that you and Haechan muster the energy to finally roll out of the bed, or what’s left of it. You find yourself dressed in his clothes, feeling a little shy. The walk to the meeting hall is quiet, but Haechan’s hand remains firmly intertwined with yours, offering a sense of strength and support.

At the head of the room stands jeno’s father, the pack leader.

 His eyes shift from Haechan to you, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. You had assumed it was his orders that brought you here, but maybe not.

“You,” he says, his voice low and measured. “Come closer.”

Hesitant, you move forward, Haechan’s hand reluctantly releasing yours. The alpha steps down from his platform, circling you slowly. 

“Do you know,” he begins, stopping in front of you, “how rare it is for a werewolf in rutt to resist an omega’s scent? Even more so for three days?” His tone isn’t accusatory, it’s almost… impressed.

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond. “I… I didn’t realize…”

“And yet,” he continues, ignoring your stammering, “he endured it. Refused every omega offered to him, tore himself apart fighting his instincts—for you.” He pauses, his gaze piercing. “Do you understand what that means?”

Your breath catches. 

“It means,” he says, his voice softening ever so slightly, “that you mean more to him than anything else. More than his instincts. More than his own survival.” He turns to Haechan, who’s standing rigidly nearby. “Isn’t that right, son?”

Haechan doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” His voice is steady, unwavering. “She’s mine. And I’m hers.”

The alpha stares at him for a long moment before nodding, almost imperceptibly. Then, he turns back to you. “If one of my sons is willing to endure hell for you, then I can see no reason to stand in the way of this bond. I give you both my blessing.”

The room erupts into murmurs, shock rippling through the pack. But the alpha silences them with a single raised hand. “Anyone who challenges this decision will answer to me directly.” His gaze sweeps across the room, daring anyone to speak against him. No one does.

Haechan steps forward.  “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

The alpha nods again, his expression unreadable. “Take care of her,” he directs towards Haechan before turning back to you. “And take care of yourself. If this is the path you choose, then make sure you’re strong enough to walk it.”

You nod at him, still in shock as haechan picks you up off the ground in a tight hug.

Mark and Ten approach, clapping Haechan on the back. “Guess you’re part of the pack now,” Ten teases you playfully.

Jeno steps forward too. “Don’t think just because my dad likes you that I do.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck. “It will be a cold day in hell before we’re friends.”

“Just ignore him,” Johnny says with a chuckle. “If the chief says so then you’re family. We’ve got your back whether he likes it or not.”

Jaehyun nods in agreement, a reassuring smile on his face. “If anyone tries to come between you two, you can rely on us.”

A smile blooms across your face. All the fear and worry you once carried begins to lift. You felt safe knowing they had your back.  Vampire or werewolf—let them come. You’re not fighting by yourself anymore. 

[bunny-jpeg]

the customer is always right

simon 'ghost' riley

tags: smut/pwp, plug!reader, biker!simon, rough sex, semi-public sex, rough wall sex, mean!simon, mentions & use of recreational drugs, dub-con (!!!), breeding kink, dark themes

a/n: wow that was something!

simon knew when the trust his gut. it was what kept him alive for so long. good things didn't come to those who tried to over-think things and just like emotion take over. problem was, sometimes the gut wasn't right and simon may go a little overboard.

moments like that were also what had kept him alive for this long. but maybe he was overacting when he got in your face, little plastic baggie in his hand (damn thing had hearts printed on it for christ sake). he may have been a touch too mean.

"ya fuckin' bitch." he snapped, "tryin' to over-charge me. is that what they teach ya nowadays?"

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you snapped back, "you asked and you received. all of them are there. the weed, the xanax, it's all there." you pointed to the baggie, "and if you don't like it then take a hike." and turned away, but you didn't get far before simon grabbed you by the shoulder and hit you up against the wall.

"nah, nah. not very good customer service are ya. jeez, i remember i at least had the decency to please and thank you when i sold." he towered over you, much stronger than you could ever. your forehead hit against the brick wall and you felt tears in your eyes.

"simon... c'mon." you said, "i'm not fucking around here." and yelped when you felt his hands go up your skirt. his large, rough hand grasped your ass and gave it a firm squeeze.

"c'mon, what? that you're a cheat and a liar. thinkin' that you can pout that fat bottom lip and no one would be counting what you shaved off? i hope you know there are worse men out there than me. fuck with them and you'll be found in pieces." he pressed into you, his hard on in his jeans rubbed against you behind.

"please, simon." you said.

"shh, shh. i'm tryin' to right a wrong here. the customer is always right, right? ya only give the best to those who are payin' and since you tried to scam me out. only fair that i get a little return on what i paid for. and if it isn't drugs, well, i'll have to find somethin' else." he pulled your panties down and kept you against the wall by the back of your neck.

he got his cock out of his jeans and rubbed his cock up against your ass. he exhaled deeply, "love the smell of good pussy before i light up for the evenin'." he chuckled, "ah, that's is. mmm, should be selling this. but, actually, maybe i should keep it to myself. yeah?"

you didn't know what yo say. you had to keep quiet. you were currently in the alleyway between the biker bar that simon owned and a convenience store that got a fair bit of foot traffic.

"yeah, keep ya on my arm at the bar. better yet, get ya off this dealer shit and back into the kitchen. measure flour and sugar rather than weed and cocaine." he groaned as he kept his cock throb as he held it against you behind. slow up and down movements against you. he still kept you pinned.

"simon."

"ah, ya want it, doll." he chuckled, "ya want me. i can smell it on ya." he sniffed for dramatic effect as he rubbed up against you further, "mmm. ya like that." his voice was dangerous as he sank into your cunt.

easy fit, maybe a little bruising. but, simon would kiss it all better with the tip of his cock. maybe rub some of his cum against the bruises for good measure. you moaned against the wall and your short nails dragged across the brick wall.

he moved against you quickly. his pace was bruising and it made you pant heavily against the wall. he slapped your ass and then struck his fingers in your mouth when he felt you got too loud.

"keep ya home, keep ya with the brats. better than this. i can handle it all, you just stay home." he moved against you, "mama don't gotta think, she just gotta handle the home, right?" he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock and he chuckled to himself as he moved against you faster.

you moaned around his fingers and he only pushed into you further. you choked out a noise as he held you jaw, still keeping you quiet. his cock hit against all the right spots and it made you have spots in your vision. the feeling was so strong that it made you unable to fully process what was going on. how it felt to be fucked this way, with a man so much larger and so much more terrifying.

"that's it. won't sell ya for a quick buck. only i'll keep this greedy pussy filled right?" his pace continued and you were on another planet. rationality died in your head and replaced with the wet feeling between your legs.

being manhandled like this, subjected to his brutal paces. there was little affection, but simon would make it up to you. it's not going to all take in one night. he'd need to work his achy cock into you a few more times. he felt the heat in his body as he fucked you.

you moaned around his fingers and let him use you as he pleased. your legs were shaky but he kept you upright. you moaned around his digits.

"that's it beautiful. wow, this is the customer service i like to see." he purred into your ear as he continued to rut against you. he knew you weren't paying attention to a damn thing he was saying. but, still you felt good. nice cunt for him to fuck.

"simon." you tried to say around his fingers. but he kept fucking you like a man on a mission. your eyes rolled back when you felt the climax hit you like a train. your cunt clamped down on his cock and you finished around him.

you slumped further against the grimy brick wall and you cursed when he took his fingers out of your mouth. he slapped your ass and looked out of the alley as he fucked you with a heavier pace. his hips slammed against your ass.

"fuck, baby. look at ya." he groaned as his pace kept up. he moved against you, fucked you up against he wall like he owned you. he kept his pace steady as he felt the climax in his gut. he kept fucking you eagerly and felt the throb in his core.

a few more heavy thrusts and he shoved he took his cock out to the tip, but still came inside of you. like spurts of cum hit against the deepest parts of you. he gripped your ass and said, "did ya a favour and pulled you a little. still got my boys in ya though." his accent heavy due to the lust, "keep 'em safe will ya."

you were barely focused on the roughness of the brick under your cheek.

he pulled out and got his sticky cock into his jeans. he zipped them up and you nervously got your panties back over your ass. globs on his cum stained the front of your panties.

you were on shaky legs as he took you by the arm. you looked up at him and felt meek. you felt conflicted, your core still shivering. your bottom lip wobbled as he rubbed your eyes.

"ah, i'm here, doll." he said softly, "why don't we get in your car and remeasure everythin'. seems like baby girl doesn't know how to do her measurments." he patted your behind and gave a smile under his mask.

you had no words, you just got fucked in an alley way and your mind was still a tangled knot of yarn. you leaned on him further for support.

"don't worry, i'm here now. and we'll get them just right." he yanked you a little harder then you hopes as he said, "no time to waste beautiful. you better not have messed up too many of the measurements, or else we'll have to right those wrongs all over again. because why, doll?"

you whimpered, "the customer's always right?"

"yes he is."

[lostinlovingrevery]

You Set Me Free

Weapon X! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: Weapon X? More like Weapon SEX, amiright? Huh? Huh?

Logan gets some serious post nut clarity in this one

Plot: You'd been watching the secret research lab at Lake Alkali, searching for a way to save your husband who's been turned into a weapon. You find one night that your reunion may come sooner and more differently than you think...

Warnings: SMUT, 18+!, MAJOR DUBCON/NONCON/CNC ELEMENTS YALLS, Unprotected PiV, multi creampies, feral Logan, oral (F! recieving), logan sniffs reader a lot, mentions of fluids, rough sex, outdoor sex, a nice reunion I guess?, I didn't mean for this to go on as long as it did., yall are prob gonna judge me when you finish reading. Maybe this be seen as an analogy for sex connecting people? idk

Word Count: 4453

The wind blew softly through the trees, making leaves and branches rustle through the warm spring air. Crickets chirped rhythmically. Stars, nearly hidden by the green canopy of pine trees, twinkled in the night sky.  The forest was dark, and mostly quiet, save for a distant noise that was approaching slowly. A deer runs by - stopping first with its tail up, and a twitch of its nose, before disappearing between the trees. 

It was observing you as you walked through the forest, each step crunching the leaves and sticks underneath. 

You were coming back from an unsuccessful reconnaissance mission. Walking back to the cabin you were temporarily calling home. The cabin, conveniently located on the other side of Lake Alkali, allowed you to observe the activities at the concrete giant posing as a regular dam for the lake- when inside you knew the horrific truths that were happening. 

It’s been 6 months since you last seen him. Well, see him as…him. The real him. Not the weapon they turned him into. It pains you to see what they’ve done, and what they will continue doing to him. 

You deemed Logan the love of your life almost immediately after you met him- about 6 years ago. When he was brought to the mansion, he nearly pummeled you after running into you in the hall during his confused haze where he was trying to figure out where he was. After that, he was nothing but polite and apologetic, and soon you two got to know each other and eventually fell in love. 

You continued walking through the forest, your hand unconsciously moving to your ring finger, twisting and fiddling with the ring that Logan had given you. It was nearly a year ago when he proposed- and you two got hitched a month after. You were too impatient to plan a wedding, and neither of you was much for throwing big parties after all. You were lost in thought, not paying attention to the surroundings you have become so familiar with in the last 5 months. 

You didn’t notice how the sound of nature has stopped. 

Only the quiet crunch of your footsteps echoed through the woods. 

A few months after Logan came to the mansion, the team got into a nasty skirmish with Dr. Stryker and his group of scientists and military officials that worked under the radar of the U.S government, performing illegal and immoral experiments on mutant kind. It was found out that Logan had apparently been a victim of those experiments years and years ago, and he had supposedly gotten his revenge on Stryker, leaving the man for dead, wounded and bleeding, in the cold, secluded forests that Lake Alkali was found in. 

Only years later, the X-men find out the bastard escaped his fate, and had still continued his operations after successfully alluding and then tricking the U.S. government, which allowed him to continue his research. It led to a complicated scheme that captured Logan, your love. 

They broke him down and practically tortured him, turning him into the base layer of his mutation. A beast. A creature they themselves could barely control, having to create a device that allowed them to track his movements and monitor him- and make him come back to the base once the mission was complete. They used him for countless assassinations- another part of Stryker's plans, in order to gain more power over the government. 

It practically destroyed you. It took the entire team to talk you down from storming into the secret base of operations alone with your powers and wiping out every single fucker in the place, and saving your love- and the other victims trapped there. It was Hank really, who managed to calm you down, since his position as secretary of Mutant Affairs allowed him to be able to get to the right people that can help. It wasn’t that the X-men couldn’t do it, but Stryker's operations have grown, with a lot of loyal subjects and a lot of controlled and dangerous mutants- Logan being one- that would make things even more complicated. 

The plan was reconnaissance- something you quickly volunteered for. Someone who will stay nearby and observe the base- learn the schedules, the people- whatever information that could help. Your powers helped you with that, allowing you to get close and learn much information needed. 

Some days you’re able to get some real information, but other days- like today. It was dead quiet. The usual trucks moving in and out, scientists and guards on smoke breaks, talking about their plans for the weekend. You saw no sign of Logan, so you assumed they must be keeping him inside today, no “missions” for him to complete. 

You continued twisting the ring on your ring finger, a comforting habit that you have developed when you found yourself missing him. You counted the days when you’d see him again. Looking up at the sky, you noted how the stars always looked bright and beautiful around here. 

When will Logan get to see those stars again? 

You suddenly felt your hair rise along your arms and neck, and a sudden sense of danger was screaming at you. You stopped in your tracks, slowly glancing around at the dark forest that surrounded you.

When did it get so quiet?

Fear crawled up your throat from your gut, as you took a few steps backward, staring straight ahead. Something, someone was watching you. There were predators in the forests, coyotes, bears, whatever, you’ve encountered them a few times but never actually had an issue with them before. Whatever was stalking out there, hidden in the darkness and tree lines, was something you felt was more dangerous than a bear. 

Turning on your feet, you took after back towards the small cabin. Your footsteps echoed through the trees as you ran down the path, weaving through trees to hopefully throw off whoever was following you, someone was certainly following you though- because you could hear the sound of footsteps that weren’t your own closing in behind you. 

Your heart was pounding, blood rushing in your ears. You don’t know what or who was chasing you. The closer the sound behind you got, the more your limbs began to feel like jello- and you prepared yourself for a fight. It was when you turned your head to try to get a glimpse at your pursuer- that your blood ran cold.

You could see Logan, chasing you on his hands and feet. Snarling face, wild untamed hair, with that metal cage-like helmet on his head. He had next to nothing on, aside from some cloth that looked like shorts or boxers. He looks like an animal. You knew you would not be able to escape him- Logan was too fast. Just in the few seconds you had looked at him, he had already closed in several feet between you. 

You turned forward, and could see the silhouette of your cabin in the distance. 

Maybe I can make it

Your thoughts were drowned out by the loud growl emitted from Logan, and you felt your body being tackled to the ground. The harsh tackle knocked the wind out of you, and your head knocked to the ground.

You were barely able to comprehend what was happening, feeling a heavy weight pressed on top of you- at first you only saw stars, before Logan’s snarling face came into view. 

He was so different. His hair was wild and grown out, and face twisted and contorted into something you didn’t recognize, wrinkled nose and bags under his eyes. His teeth bared- his canines sharp like an animal. He looked at you with murderous intent- yet you couldn’t bring it in you to use your powers to fight back. You couldn’t hurt him even though you knew that he was likely about to kill you right then and there. 

You reached your hands up to cup his face, his own hands roughly grabbing yours and pinning them on either side of your head. You gasped- 

“Logan-” You breathed. There was no change in his expression- except…He sniffed. You blinked, staring up at him in confusion. He took another sniff, his face relaxing into something more bewildered, as he leaned down into your neck, and took a deep sniff, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck. 

Confusion wracked your brain, and then you heard him grunt. 

Wait a minute, did he recognize you? Your scent?

You always teased him over that. The way he liked to deep inhale of your hair or neck. He’d always rolled his eyes and smirked. 

“Can’t help it, princess, you smell so damn good all the time.”

You felt his hip press into yours, as he groaned again before his tongue licked against your skin, hot and wet.

You’re fucking kidding me,

Is he seriously getting fresh with you?

You’re never going to let him live this down if you get out alive

His nose brushed up the crook of your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your skin. His hips started to grind against yours. You’d almost laugh at the situation you found yourself in; if it weren’t for the fact that you were getting wet by his mere rutting over you. You didn’t know what to do, what the hell do you do in this kind of situation?

One of his hands let go of your wrist that he had trapped, and came down to grope at your breast, soft and careful at first, before he gripped it, fondling it roughly. His head came up to lick the space behind your ear. You swallowed, your eyes watching his every movement when it occurred to you that your hand was free- and he was close enough for you to rip off that helmet. 

You waited, letting him grunt and lick at your skin, keeping him distracted with…Whatever he was doing. You counted the seconds- hoping that Logan's superior senses were clouded by his pure animalistic horniness to notice the change in your body. 

In a quick movement, your hand reached up, yanking the metal cage of his head with a rough movement, and throwing it to the side. His head shot up - eyes wide and angry, staring at you and then to the helmet, where it rolled across the ground before finally stopping, upside down, a few feet away from where you and Logan were. 

Not paying you any mind he climbed off of you, walking on his two feet over to the helmet. You turned to your side, panting as a little relief climbed over you. 

Did you do it?

He bent over, picking up the metal cage, his eyes examining the object. There was a quiet neutralness in his expression, and you wondered if your Logan has come back.  He looked insane, with his hair and beard grown out, bulging muscles all the way from his shoulders down to his calves, cloth- which looked similar to some type of jean shorts was the only thing covering him- still, tight enough to leave little to imagination, you could see his erection pressing against the cloth. He looked like some rated R version of Tarzan. 

A beat passed, and he suddenly tears the metal apart with a roar. You watched in terrror- and slight arousal- as he raged against the helmet, tearing it into smaller pieces- shrapnel flying into the woods and landing on the ground near you. You could make out small pieces of electrical wire and circuit boards scattered in the grass and dirt. 

Bastards, you thought to yourself, as you moved to push yourself up from the ground. Logan finished his rage, yelling into the forests with a fierce roar that echoed through the trees and sent fear up your spine. You were up on your knee when Logan turned out- looking straight at you. Your stomach sank at the sight of his eyes- still wild and frenzied. 

It wasn’t him, whatever part of Logan you knew was still deep asleep inside the beast of the man you were gazing at. 

You were not safe yet.

You pushed up to your feet, and quickly turned to continue running back to your cabin. It was stupid, considering you barely got two steps before you were knocked down to your stomach. You attempted to crawl, but his hands grabbed your ankles, and pulled you under him- flipping you roughly onto your back. 

You didn’t have a minute to process when his hands went to your shirt and r i p p e d it apart. He ripped your bra apart too, baring your stomach and breasts to him. You gasped, your hands went to his shoulders, some attempt to regain control that was completely futile. 

He dipped his head down to your chest, his tongue running over your nipples, his hands roughly gripping your waist and pulling you onto him, grinding against your core. 

“Logan-” You gasped- your hand moving to press against his forehead to push him off you. “Lo- I know you missed me and all-” You say, some feeble attempt to calm yourself and your pounding heart to add some humor to this…situation you found yourself in.

He growled, shoving your hand off him as he lurched forward, licking and biting your neck roughly, making you whimper at the feeling of his teeth scraping over your skin. You attempted to crawl out from under him, but he held you in place. 

You couldn’t run, you couldn’t fight. 

You managed to turn your head to look at him, grunting and grinding against you. A deep part of you wondered if maybe there was some part of him inside that was reaching out to you. Did your scent trigger a memory? Does he recognize you through his animalistic haze, and he’s desperately trying to connect with you in the only way he knew how due to his brainwashing? 

It was Logan. He could never hurt you. 

He sat up, his attention moving to your jeans, a deep growl escaped him as he reached down and grabbed where you jeans were buttoned together and pulled them apart, ripping them open at the seams, exposing your panties to him, wet with your arousal due to his grinding and licking at your skin. He lifted your hips ups, face planting against your mound as he took a deep inhale of your scent, making you gasp. He stuck his tongue out, running it up your clothed pussy- and letting out a deep groan, almost a whimper.  

It made your skin hot, the way he groaned at the taste of you. You’ve heard him let that same noise out countless times, the way he inhaled your scent like you smelled like a fresh baked pie. He’d act like you tasted so sweet, like he could never get enough of you. 

He let out something resembling a whine again, and his hand came up, grabbing the hem of your panties and ripping them off you- the fabric scratched your skin- but you could barely register the pain of the fabric because Logans mouth crashed onto your wet pussy. You squealed, the feeling of his tongue running up and down your folds, not in any particular pattern, it was like he was drinking every ounce of you, unable to quench his thirst as you swore you could hear him audibly gulping your fluids down.

 His tongue came over your clit, making you involuntarily thrust into his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you- filled with a hazey lust, his brows creased angrily. His beard and hair scratched your inner thighs, leaving them red, but the juices of his spit and your fluids coated them as he carried on practically eating you alive. His nails dug into your hips, tight enough to scratch you. 

You felt your stomach getting tight. He wasn’t even doing anything particular to stimulating you other than his tongue running over every inch of your slit, occasionally dipping into your hole- pulsing around him. The wrongness of it all, the animalistic nature of him though- you couldn’t help it. You attempted to push his head off you, snapping out of your lustful state, I shouldn’t let this happen. Both your hands came up pressing his against his forehead, as you started to squirm in attempt to get away. 

He grunted, attempting to continue devouring you, before anger flashed across his face. He snarled, shoving you into the ground and flipping you onto your stomach.

“Ah! - Lo!” 

You yelped, as he pulled off the tattered pieces of your clothes still on you, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable to him. He leaned over you, his tongue running from your back up to the back of your neck, you felt drops of his spit on your shoulder- as he shuffled behind you, desperately pulling off his pants. You attempted to crawl away one more time, but his hands grabbed you, pulling you back under him. One hand went into your hair, fingers gripping and pulling your head back and to the side eliciting a cry from you, as he leaned down and bit into your shoulder.

His other hand, brought your hips and ass up- and you felt his throbbing member press into your soaked folds, grinding into you. His legs pressed against the outside of yours, your body tensed, your toes curling as you waited for the inevitable thrust. You knew this was so goddamn wrong, but your body hummed in anticipation and excitement. 

It had been a kinky pleasure between you and Logan, the way he would let his animalistic side out on you, pinning you down and fucking you until you nearly blacked out. What was happening now was no different, other than the fact that the Logan you knew was not there to control himself from going too far. 

His tip found your leaking hole, and pressed into you. He let out a harsh pant against your shoulder, where he was still biting down on you, before fully thrusting himself inside- a shriek escaping you. Your legs kicking from the intensity of him forcing inside you. It didn’t matter how many times you and Logan had been together- the size of him was always intense the first few minutes. Your body trembled, your hands digging into the dirt below you. You could feel his chest heaving against your back, and his other hand went and grabbed your hip, before he pulled out nearly to the tip, and thrusting back inside harshly. 

He began to pick up pace, the weight of his body pinning you to the forest floor, he was grunting with every thrust, your body bouncing with his movements as he took you with a ferocity you never felt before. His hands gripped your hair tighter, yanking your head back farther, as he moved to clamp down on your neck, leaving a deep bite mark in your shoulder that was turning shades of blue and purple, a whine escaping him as he continued thrusting. You felt him slamming into you, his large cock molding shape inside of you, and eventually you melted- pleasure fully enveloping your body. 

“Oh god- Logan-” You cried, hot tears pricking your eyes from the stimulation of him everywhere. 

It’s been so long.

You attempted to arch your back, trying to get that perfect angle so he could hit that sweet spot that would send you careening. Logan hissed at how tight you pulled around him. He let go of the clamp he had on your neck, pulling your hips and angling you to be practically folded in half. His large arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed his face into your mid-back, and you felt his drool falling against your skin, practically burning from how hot it was. 

He thrusted into you with an inhuman pace, you could barely keep up, your eyes rolling back as you felt your stomach tighten, your hole squeezing tight around him, and your thighs began to tremble. His tip repeatedly thrusted into you, hitting the sweet gummy spot inside you- and sent you over the edge. 

You cried out his name, as he fucked into you through your orgasm that seemed to never stop- you body shaking and you could barely focus on anything. He fucked into you one more time, and a loud roar slammed his hips into your ass, burying deep inside you and you felt spurts of his cum covering inside your walls. He kept thrusting, burying himself over and over inside you, making sure every bit of his seed is buried inside. It felt neverending the way he seemed to keep cumming in you. 

With a harsh grunt he finally stopped inside you, his arms still wrapped around your waists holding you tight against him. He was panting, his large chest heaving- your body still trembling. 

He pulled out, pushing and manuevering you onto your back. Your arms laid out on either side of your head, your hair tangled into the dirt and twigs below you. Your legs spread wide, as your combined fluids soaked your thighs and lower stomach and his cum slowly leaked out of your hole. The strength of your muscles felt utterly depleted.

 Your eyes took in the wild man sitting up before you. Sweat dripped down his body, your arousal from earlier covering his lower face and beard. His muscles flexed and veins popping out down his arms and stomach. He panted, as he stared down at you, his eyes still wild- but not as quite ferocious. Your eyes trailed down to his cock, hard and swollen already, his tip beet red and leaking generous amounts of pre-cum. You swore you could see him throbbing. 

Oh fuck

He climbed back over you, and you couldn’t bother to try to move. Your legs were spread wide for him, and your body was pliant. He braced his hands on either side of your hips, and thrusted back into you with a swift motion of his hips. You gasped, the feeling of fullness returning but not as quite overwhelming as the first time. 

He grunted as he begin bouncing in and out of you again. You were overstimulated, your heart was pounding in your ear, and pleasure enveloped your body as he took you roughly again. You could barely move, as his large cock moved in and out of you with ease. It wasn’t quite as rough as the first time, but you swear he was being gentler with you. 

You felt yourself relaxing this time around, letting him do what he wanted. Your mind pictured all the sweet moments you and him shared in the past together. If he wakes up out of this haze, break free from the brain washing- you’re not quite sure if he’ll remember this...Or how you’ll explain it to him.

He watched your breasts bounce with his movements, fascination and enjoyment in his eyes. If you hadn’t felt so weak, and fucked-out, you’d probably laugh. His hands grabbed your legs, the space under your knees and pushed them up towards your chest as he went deeper, angling himself inside you and once again hitting that gummy spot. You thought you were crazy, but you swore he was trying to hit the spot that made you cum the first time. 

He leaned back down over you, his chest pressing against the back of your legs, as one hand braced next to your head. You moaned, tipping your head to the side as you weakly brought your hand to grab his arm and hold onto it. He seemed to be spurred on by your moans, and picked up his pace, thrusting into you with a renewed vigor. Wet noises echoed through the forests as his hips slapped into yours.

You felt your body tensing again, a second orgasm quickly approaching, a white hot burning in your lower belly building up with each hard and quick thrust into you. He was whining, leaning down to bury his face into your neck, tongue coming out to lick the sweat off your skin. 

“Oh- Logan-” You whined, arching your back, and he growled, bracing his arms on either side of your head, pounding into you once more until you both snapped, your greedy pussy squeezing tight around him almost painfully, as he filled you up again with his hot cum. He yelled out in pleasure into your neck, as ecstasy rolled between both your bodies as he continued thrusting. 

Your body went slack, your muscles occasionally twitching from being pushed so far. Logan was panting, his breath hot on your skin. You felt him move, pushing himself up and looking down at you. 

You gasped at the sight of his eyes- his face. An expression of regret, and a little confusion. His eyes- It was him.

“Logan?” You whispered, your hands coming up to cup his face. 

“Baby I- I’m so sorry I don’t know what-”

You cut him off; pulling him down to kiss you. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. You didn’t care how it happened, why it happened. You just had him back. Broken free from the tortured recesses of his mind. His arms wrapped carefully around you, kissing you back gently, almost as if he was scared he was going to hurt you. You pulled back, looking up at him. 

“I missed you.” You say softly. He looked at you with small relief. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing hair out of your face. “I didn’t- fuck I didn’t know what I was doing. I just could smell you and then- you took that helmet off. I’d be fighting for so long and…” 

You shushed him. “Doesn’t matter. You’re back now baby.” You brought him down to kiss you again. “Typical that it takes sex for you to wake up...” You mutter. He let out an exhaling laugh. His arms cradled you safely against him. “You need a shower by the way.”

He chuckled again, looking down at you and looking up around him, then up at the sky. The relief that flooded his face as he saw the stars.

"I couldn't control myself. It was...Like I was trapped in my head, watching someone else control me." He says. "They'd do these things that send me into this...rage. Nothing would stop me. But no matter what I did....You were always in my thoughts. I think that's what happened. I think I smelled you and I recognized you somewhere...You got me free." 

[deanangel]

𓇼 SPELLS SEX BY THE SEA | 18+

﹏﹏ ࣪ ˖ pairing: dean winchester x mermaid .ᐟ reader | minors do NOT interact

synopsis: dean finds you in your element, on the beach making little potions by the water. he never did like witches, but you, his little doll, were an exception.

warnings: alcohol mentions | i mean she is a mermaid | , making out , witchcraft , unprotected p!v | WRAP IT UP!! | , creampie , cock-warming if you squint!! , !reader rides him like a cowgirl ...

word count: 1k

the sun was high in the sky, its rays beating down on your form. the heat was rather calming. you wore just a bikini, one that dean had bought for you. the beach was empty, only you, your spellbook, and a bottle of rum accompanying the waters.

dean wasn't with you – even though you nearly went everywhere with him – because he didn't know you had wandered out of the bunker. you needed a break, for the boys wouldn't let you practice potions or spells.

it annoyed you, it's not like you were going to burn the place down, you couldn't. it was a bunker for christ sake!

the sand stuck to your form, not that you minded. your fingers gingerly stirred the mixtures together, mind focused on the task at hand. so much so that you hadn't heard the sound of sand being pushed out of the way by someone.

dean sat next to you, his eyes trailing over your figure. his heart warmed at the sight of you so focused, it was cute. his hand came to rest at the small of your back, bringing you closer to him slightly.

“what'cha doin’ doll?” his breath tickled your neck as he spoke, which broke you out of your trance.

“dean?” you questioned quickly, turning to face him with furrowed brows. you didn't know how he found you – like you didn't leave a note just in case he wanted to look for you.

his fingers traced patterns on your skin, the smell of his cologne surrounding your senses.

“i'm doing my 'witchcraft’ over here since i can't at the bunker–” you pouted, about to start complaining again.

he brought his other hand to your chin, gently tugging until your lips met his, silencing you effectively. the taste of rum lingered on your tongue, in which he hummed at the taste of.

your body moved subconsciously, pushing yourself onto him. straddling his lap as your hands found his hair, tugging at his soft locks to deepen the kiss. tongues dancing with each other. his hands roamed your body, groping every inch until they rested on the curve on your ass, gripping the flesh roughly.

your hips grind against his, soft moans leave your lips. “c'mon doll, let's take this to the car, yea?” he murmured–lips still pressed against each other as he swallowed your moans.

you shook your head, pulling away. a string of salvia following the action. you stare at him with hooded eyes, forcing him to crane his neck to the side. swollen and wet lips trailing kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. dean let out groans, which only fueled you to keep going.

he began grabbing your ass harder. grinding your body down onto his with force, hips bucking up to meet yours. the thin bathing suit doing nothing to hide the damp spot forming at the friction.

“dean..” you whined against his neck, hands now clawing at his jacket, pulling it off his body until he left in his shirt.

his hands left your bottom, pulling on the string of your top to let your chest free. dean bit his lip at the sight of your breasts. his hands covering both with care, gently tugging on the pointed nub with calloused fingers.

your head flew back, abandoning his neck. the feeling was too much, him playing with your nipples and the feeling on his jeans on your barely covered clit – it was all too much.

with your mind fuzzy and full of the oldest winchester, you didn't feel nor hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, and your bathing suit bottoms being pulled to the side. his cock teased your entrance–hard and leaking pre-cum, coaxing you out of whatever state you were in.

your hips had been raised by dean, his fingers rubbing smooth soothing circles along your hips.

“c'mon babydoll, you can take this alright.” you nodded at his words not trusting yourself enough to speak, sinking down into his length with a strained moan.

he flung his head back at the feeling on your cunt around him–tight and warm. your legs dug into the sand as you bottomed out on top of him, scales hidden beneath the grains and your work long forgotten beside you. you were nice and full, his cock stretching you out to the max.

dean began to move your hips, his dick hitting your g-stop with every little movement. you grasp on his shirt tightly, fingers digging into the fabric. you dug your head into his shoulder for a brief moment, muffling your moans somewhat.

once you began to move up and down, dean was done for. he lost all control–watching with lust filled eyes as you pushed his upper body down. placing a hand on his chest for balance. you reached over with your free hand to grab the bottle of rum, bringing it to your plump lips and taking a swig. all while riding him like a cowgirl.

dean swore he almost came right there at the sight of you–boobs bouncing, his cock slipping in and out of your dripping cunt, and the golden liquid dripping down your body mixing with the sweat that made you glisten. your body jerked against his, hips bucking and shuddering as your orgasm came crashing down over you like a tidal wave.

his followed short, cock stuffed inside you, filling you up and coating your walls with a warm white substance. your body fell on top of his, skin-to-skin. his hands moved up from the bruising grip on your hips to wrap around your form.

the bottle of rum still clutched between your fingers. sand clinging to both of you. panting softly as your eyes fluttered shut. dean watched, kissing the top of your head. he gently rubbed your back, whispering sweet words into your ear. he cooed softly, telling you to rest. his cock still buried deep inside you, keeping you full.

you wouldn't have it any other way, falling asleep as the sound of his heart beat replaced any lullaby you could think of.

dean on the other hand, was thinking of all the places to fuck you next, the beach crossed off his bucket list.

authors note: I AM NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT!! please do not come for me if this is rlly bad 😿 i figured why not write something and then BOOM it let to this. this is not proof read so if there's bad grammar or spelling, no there's not!! I LOVE YOU ALLL 💋💋

[sweetiesicheng]

mingyu - lights out

word count : 565

-

suddenly, the lights flicker a few times before turning off. you look out the window and notice that the power is out everywhere. a few lights linger, most likely being batter powered items or generators kicking in for certain buildings.

"oh come on!" you hear mingyu shout from the kitchen. you leave the bedroom and find him standing in the dark.

"everything okay?" you ask him.

"yea, i'm fine. it's just the stove is off," he mentions, turning the stove knob, "it’s fine. i was going to cook something else, but this will have to do.”

"put the lid on, that should help," you say to him. you grab your phone off of a charger in the living room and turn the flashlight on. you walk over to mingyu and shine the light towards the stove. "y/n's light service is here to help you!" you announce.

mingyu smiles with a chuckle, "oh thank you so much y/n from y/n's light service. mingyu's food service will be done in a few moments.

"isn't this the second time the power has gone off this week?" you question.

"has it? you've been home more than me this week," mingyu says and moves the pot to the table.

you nod, "yea, this is the second time. maybe there's something wrong," you say and go to the table. "can you hand me a water bottle?" you ask.

"oh, sure," mingyu replies. he opens the fridge and grabs a water bottle. "catch," he says before tossing the bottle to you.

you catch the bottle and place it on top of the flashlight on your phone. the light reflects in the water to sort of make a makeshift lamp. it illuminates enough so you roughly see the kitchen, but it's still dark around the condo.

mingyu brings over some side dishes and extra small bowls.

"the stuff in the freezer should be fine, right?" you ask mingyu.

"huh? yea, just don't open it. the fridge should be fine too, that is, if the power comes back on soon. if not, then we're probably gonna have a lot to throw away tomorrow," mingyu says and sits down across from you. "i like the light," he comments about the water bottle sitting on your phone.

"better than nothing," you reply to him. "you know what, i bet it's because of the weather. with all of the rain we've been getting lately," you say to him as he starts taking a portion of noodles from the pot. "but this is taking awhile for the power to come back on," you comment.

"it'll probably come back on soon. probably just a little hiccup," he says to you.

"mm. you're right," you say and put a portion of noodles into your bowl. "thanks for cooking."

"oh, this was nothing. we're lucky that this didn't take too long to cook," he replies. "and thank you to y/n from y/n's light service for providing a light for tonight’s dinner," he says with a smile, nodding his head towards the water bottle that's still on top of your phone.

you laugh, "of course. and thank you to mingyu from mingyu's food service for providing tonight's dinner," you say. both of you laugh together.

"you're cute," mingyu comments.

"you're cuter," you say to him.

"you're cutest. boom, i win."

"oh whatever mingyu from mingyu's food service."

[darinawrites]

⚹︎ — It's just a cold — ⚹︎⠀

Pairing: Dae ho x reader

Summary: you appreciate his love a lot, you do. But the first time you got a cold, in his eyes, you were on the verge of death. Him basically having a breakdown while getting groceries, hurrying to be by your side. Annoying, but also cute (Dae ho freaking out about a cold, basically.)

Content: fluff, fluff and even more fluff (the angst fics will come soon, dw), soft Dae ho, sick reader.

A/n: I am a firm fluff lover, if it wasn't obvious. Again, I tried to shorten the fic, but it still seems rushed to me.😓 I'll get the hang of it soon, one day. I'll probably make a fic with prompt of sick reader soon again and focus the prompt more on taking care of the fever. And as always, tips are appreciated <3

Word count: 2k

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Arms pushing a shopping cart, legs striding behind it. It was just a normal day for Dae ho, besides the fact his beloved didn't text him when he woke up. It set him out of his mellow mood in the morning, concerned nature immediately rushing to the worse.

To get his mind off of it, he decided to just shop the groceries this time, a task you usually handle. Phone in his hand, waiting for a buzz as he placed a few items in the cart.

"Never understood why there are so many types of toilet papers..." he sighed out, having the tedious task of picking the right product. How do people not go insane from this?

So engrossed in the task, he let his phone plop in the cart, now picking up the piece of paper for any details that may help him, forgetting you for just a small moment.

His phone let out a small buzz in the confined space, screen enlightening to notify a message has been delivered. But his ears didn't catch it, leaving it untouched.

Finally done, he'd only realize it once he picked up the phone and hurriedly opened it. His mind drifting back to you, not letting his hopes die down when checking for your name. And to his surprise, a little green blob indicated a message was left.

A soft smile was seen on him, before dropping it quickly. Eyes reading 'message deleted' on the screen when opening the supposed message

Huh? What could this mean?

Anxiety was starting to build again, now stopping the cart as he just stood still in the aisle. His thumb quickly swiping on the call button, ringing intruding his ears as your profile was now shown.

Oh gosh, were you on your period? A car crash? An intruder?? What if-

"Dae ho..?" a quiet voice called him trough the line, letting his thoughts be set aside. "Why are you calling?" it sounded restraint, not helping his trembling anxiety.

Collecting himself to answer properly, letting a pause on the line stay. "You didn't say anything this morning and even deleted your message. Please tell me what's wrong." His tone was soft and scared. Thinking this is a situation of trust, he didn't want to push it or sound needy.

A rasp in your throat could be heard, voice tinged with vulnerability, "I didn't want to bother you. I just have a slight cold, nothing serious-"

"A what?" he quickly added, fear evident in his words.

"A cold. Dae ho , please don't start-!" a little 'beep' rang out, making you sigh. A cough following right after. You admired his tenacity to always please you. You loved it even, but sometimes it's just too much, making you hesitant to tell him about your cold from the start.

After an ephemeral time, it would go away. It wasn't worth mentioning, but to Dae ho? You were on the verge of death. You hated worrying him so much, yet his tender personality made it incredibly hard. Making him overreact at even a diminutive amount of discomfort you felt.

You had a good idea of what was happening right now, after the call. But your clouded mind, hazy with the fever, couldn't handle thinking about it anymore.

You let your head rest back on the tenth of pillows you stacked, a thick blanket pulled over you, letting your phone fall down next to you. There's nothing you could do now. Only hopes and prayers for his own good to not overreact, unsure if his heart could take it anymore.

Sadly, your hopes were left in the corner as Dae ho was rushing trough every aisle. Trying to find anything to soothe your fever.

Tea? Pushed in. Soup? Every flavour was already laying in the cart. Sweat building on his forehead, getting a few glares from other people. But he couldn't bring himself to care, not when every inch of his body was thinking about you.

Completely abandoning the shopping list as his cart was filled to the brim with either your favourite foods or soups and comfort foods. Bringing his full cart to check out, foot tapping impatiently. He closed his eyes, trying to find any peace within him.

He did feel an immense amount of guilt for just hanging up on you, it was just in the moment. Feeling his heart sink and your rushed tone trying to stop him from doing anything extreme was too much, making his thumb, with no approval, click the 'hang up' button. His timidness pulling the strings on him like a puppet.

He'd normally feel a hand on his head, brushing trough his head when his anxiety got full control over him, reassuring words coming out of your plump lips. But that's not the case right now, its far from it. Heck, your hands were probably too weak to stroke his hair!

His face lifted up to stare at the cashiers face when his turn came, now having to deal with this all alone.

He didn't mutter a single word to them, paying no attention and focusing on the important thoughts. Picking up his bags when finally done and hurriedly walking to his car, going to pick up some medicine.

Stepping into the car, struggling to put the car keys in the hole, hands trembling. Questions such as 'What medicine do you need' now intruding his mind once more.

As the car started with a soft step on the gas, he tried to muster every memory of his limited experience with medication to know what you need. Expectedly not working, he sighed, cursing himself before coming up with a new idea. He took out his phone to the second best option. Google.

His eyed drifted to tame answers given to him on the top, easing him a little. And he should've stopped there, he really should have. The answers below weren't ones he wanted to see.

'Infections? bronchiolitis? Death??' you've teached him countless times to not be so gullible to what's written online, apparently it just went out of his ear as soon as you finished because he's pressing harder on the gas now with the newly found information.

He'll be sending you messages to update you where he was from now on, fearing now if you aren't as well as he thinks. He was a bit disillusioned with himself that he didn't do that earlier as he sent a bunch of texts, your phone vibrating right beside your sleeping face.

'Hey! I'm in the pharmacy right now, my love. I'll be with you soon.' click, and the message was sent, his other hand clutching the doorknob to the pharmacy. His feet now stepping on the wooden floors, contemplating what he should say, as he came up to the lady in the front.

"H-hello, may I get some medicine for Chilblain, Bronchitis, Arthritis-" he started to incessantly ramble all the diseases he could remember the moment the friendly lady smiled, her smile gradually fading into one of worry.

"..Is that all, sir?" he'd hear once his voice begged him to take a break. Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, letting out a small nod, not long after walking out with 2 bags stacked to a brim, a worried wave letting him go from the lady behind him.

___

The buzzing of your phone finally woke you up, after the 30th time. Groggily opening your eyes, head still spinning and body fatigued. You weakly reached out for the phone, checking to see who disturbed your sleep. And to no ones surprise, Dae hos name popped up.

Before you could read trough the messages and see what he's been up to, the door flung open. An out of breath Dae ho was to be seen, a bunch of bags in his hands.

Your eyes were still hazy from just waking up, but you could see him rushing to your side, filling your ear with tons of question that your brain couldn't process as fastly as he was speaking.

"Dae ho!" you said as loudly as your throat managed, tone coming out more berating than you'd like, making him immediately stop in his tracks.

"Please..," you added now, softening your voice, "Stop worrying so much, it's a simple cold, okay? I love your worrying, but this is simple out of the line. I don't want to worry you so much, so listen to me." you stroked your hands trough his hair in a ponytail, emphasising to let his worries go.

Sighing as he let your words take the led and your shaken hands pluck the worry. Mumbling a little 'sorry' as he buried his head into your neck, his tense body now more relaxed, he knew he shouldn't worry so much, but he couldn't help it when it came to you.

Your lips were curling upwards the longer you sat like this. Letting your bodies melt into each other. It was always so nice having him in your arms. Not long after, much to your dismay, he lifted his head again. A sudden realization shining in his eyes.

"Hey...you're sick. I'm supposed to be taking care of you!" you let out a small giggle at that, his weight now off you as he took the bags into the kitchen and started doing...something. You're not quite sure what.

A few minutes passed by, his figure entering your eyesight again. This time with some pills and a bowl of soup, setting them down on the table. Picking up the pills, he signaled you to open your mouth. The small pill placed on your tongue once opening your mouth, swallowing it with the help of a water bottle beside you.

"This isn't some medicine for a weird disease with 40 letters, right?" you asked once you fully swallowed, teasing tone evident.

Pouting, he answered "Its just something to ease your pain and clear your nose. Glad to see the fever hasn't completely engulfed your teasing."

A rasp chuckle left your mouth "I had to, you brought a ridiculous amount of medicine." Your gaze was at his face, a small smile plastered on him. But from the corner of your eye, you spotted the soup. Attention now averted to the bowl. Did you have an appetite? No. Did you want it? Yes. Dae ho just manages to make everything look so good. A simple stew by him could make your mouth drip down with drool, making your eyes have a small glimmer as you intently looked at the soup.

Though, as you sat up to have a taste, you let out a loud groan immediately. The pain rushing back into your head. Dae ho was quick to react, arms reaching out to support your weight.

"Take it easy, love. Please." he hushed against your ear, manhandling your frail body with ease in a comfortable sitting position, wrapping the blanket around your figure in a way no cold seeps trough, being very meticulous with it.

You wanted to reach for the spoon, but the gesture was stopped with a small grip. "Don't worry, I'm here for a reason after all." hands bigger than yours were reaching out for the spoon this time, dipping it in the liquid before it was blown by the air left out of his mouth to cool it down.

You knew he liked protecting you, or rather feeling like he's protecting you. And you've always let him, his proud smile brightening the day everytime. And this was one of the situations, one arm hoisted around your waist, the other bringing the now cooled down soup to your mouth. You let the metal touch your mouth, pouring the warm soup and letting your taste buds enjoy it.

Your gaze never once left his eyes as he spoon feed you, such an intimate act in your mind. He apparently thought so to, his cheeks warming up everytime he brought the spoon back to your mouth.

"Hey, Dae ho..," your hoarse voice said, breaking the comfortable silence in the atmosphere, "Can you promise me to not have a day like this repeat again?"

He stopped his arm for a second, waiting a little before answering "Yes ma'am! If it helps you, then a promise will always be settled." Letting his hands fall onto his forehead, doing a salut with a warm, but serious smile.

It made you bite your lip, holding in a laugh.

He really was a goofus, your goofus.

[itsnesss]

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 | lee myung-gi (player 333) × fem!reader

summary | you try to sleep after beating one of the horrible games, but myung-gi plans to do something else with her fingers

warnings | smut, explicit content, mention of violence, fingering (fem!receives)

word count | 0.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The dormitory lights went out abruptly, plunging the participants into suffocating darkness. The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps, the creak of mattresses, and heavy breathing. Each person wrestled with their own demons on a night that promised to be endless. You, however, struggled to remain calm. You had managed to secure a top bunk, believing it would be safer there.

The day had been hell. The images of bodies collapsing to the ground, the dry sound of gunshots—all of it was still vivid in your mind. You knew that, here, trust was a luxury no one could afford.

When you finally managed to close your eyes, something changed. A slight pressure on your mattress made you open them wide. At first, you thought it was your imagination, but the creak of the metal frame confirmed your worst fears. Someone else was there with you.

Before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, firm but careful. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make out the face of the person invading your space. Then you saw him, just a shadow in the dim light. Myung-Gi.

You had noticed him during the game. He wasn’t particularly imposing, but there was something in his gaze, in the way he moved, that had made you wary of him. Now, however, so close to you, his presence felt different. Not intimidating, but... intriguing.

"Shh..." he whispered, leaning closer to you. His warm breath brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tried to push his hand away, but he kept it in place, his eyes locked on yours. There was no threat in his expression, only something you couldn’t quite decipher. Slowly, he loosened his grip over your mouth.

"What are you doing?" you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he replied, his tone soft but resolute. His face was so close you could feel the brush of his nose against yours.

Before you could say anything else, his lips met yours. It was a slow, exploratory kiss, but charged with intent. Your first instinct was to resist, but soon you realized you didn’t want him to stop. There was something about him, something in the way he touched you, that made the chaos surrounding you fade away, at least for a moment.

His hands moved to your face, holding it gently as he deepened the kiss. His body leaned into yours, and you felt the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric separating you.

"Should we be doing this here?" you whispered between kisses, your words laced with a desire you couldn’t deny.

"There’s nowhere else," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

His hands began to wander more freely, sliding down your neck and shoulders, then to your waist.

His fingers slid softly over your skin, increasing the heat that burned within you. You wanted more, much more, but you didn't know if you should let him take you that far.

Finally, he took one of your hands and brought it to his crotch. You felt something hard, something that was longing to be released. The blood rushed to your head as you realized what was happening.

"Please," you asked, trying to make your voice sound soft.

His hand moved towards your pants, slipping inside and caressing your panties, moving them to the side. His fingers slid over your pussy, exploring it slowly. You felt a new shiver when his fingers found your clitoris. The pressure was perfect, a gentle caress that made your hips move upwards. Your breathing became heavy, your body responding to his touches helplessly.

"Mmm..." you panted, barely aware of what you were saying.

His fingers increased the pressure, moving in circles over your clitoris while a third finger slid inside you. The sensation was overwhelming. You closed your eyes tightly as your hips sought more of his caresses.

"Go on..." you gasped again.

His finger increased the pace, hitting your G-spot with each of his movements. The pleasure grew inside you, making you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff. A whisper of pleasure escaped your lips as you reached orgasm. Your body trembled, your hips moving upward as his fingers continued to stroke the inside of your pussy.

"Oh..." you gasped. Words were not enough to express what you felt. It was as if all your thoughts had vanished, replaced by a feeling of complete fulfillment.

It was as if the world had disappeared, leaving you alone with the pleasure that spread through your body.

Finally, his fingers ceased their movement. His face drew closer to yours, his lips pressing against yours as he kissed you gently. You felt his smile as his tongue slid over yours.

"Good night," he whispered on your lips, before returning to his bed.

[spacegyaru]

cw: shidou ryusei x afab! reader. all characters are aged 21+. a little bit of dark content so minors, dni! college setting AU. sexual themes ahead— reader is nerdy and a good girl type. stoner!shidou so there’s w33d involved, mentions of virginity loss, creampie, unprotected sex, p in v penetration, shidou being a pushy and would pressure reader. mentions of having a dysfunctional family. also, i made a family backstory for shidou here since we still dunno much about him! and come on guys, having shidou in a fic is already a warning itself. i feel like i didn't put enough warnings so proceed with caution— ALSO I WAS WRITING THIS WHILE LISTENING TO ROMEO AND CINDERELLA SO IT'S KINDA BASED ON IT

word count: 1.3k+

imagine being a girl with an overly religious family, but you ended up falling in love with the boy next door with a bad reputation, ryusei shidou.

you were a sheltered girl who's well-loved by your strict parents. well honestly, not really well-loved— but when we say that, it means that they love to take control of everything you do. you were enrolled in an all-girls catholic school, attended sunday schools, and went to weekend piano lessons. 

in reality, you felt like they really didn't care that much about you. your father is a pastor who also worked as a professor, while your mother is a retired actress. 

they mostly cared about their church's reputation. they didn't seem to love each other either. you remember your mom being drunk one night, telling you how she hates your father and if you weren't born, she would still be a hot actress. you cried after that. your father never even consoled you, and your mom did not apologize. you were always on your own.

dinners with your family were always empty. only utensils could be heard and no one tries to talk to each other. 

when you were in high school, someone from your church moved in the house next to yours. it was the shidou family. you've always heard and seen them around the church but you never got too close. all their children attended the service— well, except for one. and it's funny how you just got to know him recently. 

you met him, ryusei shidou, while you were giving some freshly baked cupcakes to your newly-found neighbor. you were flustered when he greeted you shirtless, only wearing his boxer shorts. you couldn't look at him in the eye. so instead of saying anything, you bowed, used your two hands to give the cupcakes, saying goodbye, and immediately running to your home. 

you've always thought that the neighbors beside you were normal people — that was until you heard someone yelling, almost like a lion's roar, in the middle of the evening. you were already in your first year college that time when it happened.

you heard it while washing the dishes— the father of the shidou household was angry at ryusei because he was caught smoking w33d in the campus dorms. but their son, ryusei, seemed to be eccentric. it's almost as if he didn't care that much about it.

you got the chance to talk to him while taking some fresh laundry out of the yard. you waved at him and he just raised an eyebrow at you… and he continued to smoke whatever he's smoking.

“hi…” you timidly said before sitting beside him. but he just ignored you. so you asked him if he was okay. he just raised a brow at you and tried giving you the joint as if he's asking you to smoke with him.

you shook your head to refuse the offer, but he continued offering it to you, until you ended up saying yes.

you hated the bitter aftertaste from the w33d, but still smoked it because it seemed to have made him livelier and more friendly towards you.

“the pastor's daughter isn't a good girl after all…” he says something like that before he kissed you on the lips and bid his farewell. meanwhile, you were left dumbfounded. 

you thought that your crazy interaction with him ended there— until you saw him on your window, trying to climb your room. you almost screamed when you see his face by the window. 

“yo~” shidou greeted before you helped him from the tree branch he was climbing, letting him inside your room.

luckily, your parents were out for some business trip when ryusei gave you the joint. the smell of w33d spread throughout yout room as you smoked along with him.

it turns out that his parents were like your parents, religious. but here he is, trying to break the cycle by doing whatever he wants. he says that if he wasn't famous for soccer or didn't have an athlete scholarship, his parents would've dropped him and kicked him out. 

somehow, the short smoking session turned into a hot making-out session when he asked you to sit on his lap so he could teach you a smoking trick. naive as you are, you did as he told. now, here he is, inserting his tongue in between your lips and cupping your ass while he did so. 

after that, you brought up the fact that you started to feel something poking in between your thighs. then he just smirked and grinded more before telling you something like, “really?” 

shidou ended up letting you see his cock up close. it was your first time seeing a dick in person. surely, you’ve seen it on porn before because you got curious at some point. but this was different. you couldn’t stop staring at it. it wasn’t exactly the lengthiest, but it was thick. it looks fucking fat. 

at first, you tried touching it. but it ended up becoming more than that… you soon found yourself sucking his cock, brushing the tip of your tongue on top while trying to make it hit the back of your throat. his hands entangled around your hair with his head thrown back. you were shocked when something hot and salty suddenly burst inside your mouth. it seemed that he came inside. he asked you to open your mouth and show him how you swallow it. you did just what he told.

 it felt even better when shidou decided to return the favor. at this point, you were no longer in your pyjamas and underwear. you were wearing only an old white baggy shirt with your pussy all laid-out for him. his tongue, combined with his fingers, felt so fantastic and you ended up orgasming over his mouth.

at that point, you thought it would be the end… until he started pressing the tip of his cock on your clit, rubbing it a little bit, with his precum coming out of the hole. 

“shidou, i-isn’t this for people who only love each other?” you asked him with your eyes widened, but he whispered something like, “come on. let’s do it.” then he promised to make you his girlfriend after you do it. that’s how he ‘loves’ you. 

so you agreed. you agreed to let his cock inside your pussy. at first, it was just the tip. and you started gasping from the pain, and letting out a loud moan. shidou had to cover your mouth as he slowly thrust deeper, even kissing you with an open mouth to try making you a bit more quiet.

you were holding his arms and his body closer as his thrusts got more intense. you ended up moaning his name, leaving scratches on his back, while he lifted one of your legs around his shoulders, trying to feel you at a deeper level.

the sensation felt ecstatic. you felt like you were floating in cloud 9 while his balls slapped your clit and he was kissing your neck. 

you ended up squirting on his cock and he ended up cumming inside your pussy. after that, shidou pulled out, watching his cum ooze out from your hole. as shidou was panting, a confident smirk appeared on his lips. 

the following day, you woke up. your legs felt sore. your neck and chest were filled with hickeys. but the person who caused them was gone. the only thing that’s left as evidence is the bottle of booze both of you binged while smoking.

you tried to look for him after that, but to no avail, you never saw him again. you tried to ask his family, but they only talked about him going abroad to continue his studies as he received a better football scholarship there. his parents decided upon this due to his issues in his current university. perhaps, going abroad would change him and make him more responsible.  you attempted to fish out for more information, but you found out you were also blocked on his social media. 

you thought it couldn’t get any worse… until a few more weeks later, you found yourself staring at a white stick with two lines staring back at you. your eyes felt teary and you felt as if you were punched in the gut. 

HAGHDHJASBHA SHOULD I CONTINUE THIS? THIS WASNT PROOFREAD BTW AND I WROTE THIS AS SOON AS I GOT OFF WORK

EDITED : READ FOR PART 2

[punkrockmlchael]

"I Missed You"

Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader

(Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s)

This fic is for: birthday boy pop-up event by @corrodedcoffinfest ; the prompt is “birthday”

Prompt: Birthday | Word Count: 3100 | Rating: E | POV: Reader | Relationships: Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader | Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Starting a Family | Tags: Gareth Emerson, Corroded Coffin, Life on the Road, Pre-Established Relationship, Birthday Boy, Celebrating Gareth's Birthday on Tour, Soft and Sweet Sex

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Pre-Established Relationship, Lovey Dovey Gareth (He just wants to make you feel good because, he missed you), Smut: Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Cum Eating, Unprotected PinV, Soft and Sweet Miss You Sex (seriously you're just talking the whole time), Creampie, afab reader

Synopsis: Gareth's birthday occurred this year while on tour with Corroded Coffin, which meant that it looked a bit different. Instead of the normal breakfast in bed and day spent together you were miles apart. But, the boys of Corroded Coffin step up to help you surprise your favorite boy on a day that's all about him.

Word Count: 3.1k

Today was a day that always meant so much to you: Gareth's Birthday.

Normally, you would get up early and make your loving boyfriend some homemade pancakes flavored with some sweet almond extract and cinnamon powder, some crispy bacon and some sunny side up eggs. You'd bring him an entire feast in bed with a cup of freshly brewed hot coffee flavored with that sweet caramel creamer he enjoyed too much. Like, seriously, how did he drink his coffee that sweet? 

Normally, you would be making a cake at this time, double checking that the homemade red velvet cake was perfectly moist and baked before starting that homemade cream cheese frosting that Gareth would literally do anything for. No, really, if you left that fluffy, sweet frosting unattended on the counter he would be taking tastes of it all day, until the bowl was empty again.

This year, however, was anything but normal. No, this year Corroded Coffin was off touring the country, sharing their music with so many people. And, while you were extremely happy for your boyfriend and your friends, that meant that Gareth's birthday would look a bit... different this year.

So, instead of taking a perfectly baked cake out of the oven to cool you were rushing through the airport in Los Angeles, trying to find Jeff. He said he would be waiting for you when you landed while Eddie and Grant kept Gareth occupied so you could surprise him for his birthday while on tour.

And you were so grateful that you had such amazing friends that were willing to help you still give your boyfriend a special birthday, despite the circumstances. Those boys really loved you and Gareth, or maybe they were just sick of Gareth being an annoying lovesick boy who missed his girlfriend; either way it didn't matter to you because it meant that today you were able to see your boyfriend.

You heard your name being called and turned your head, looking in the opposite direction of where you were heading. You smiled when you saw Jeff walking towards you, arms open for a hug. "Hey you," he smiled, wrapping his arms around you. "How was your flight?"

"It was... different," you replied, looking up at Jeff. "I don’t remember the last time I had a flight on my own and today has just been weird, you know? Not really what I'm used to for Gareth's birthday... and I missed his phone call because he called me as I was walking out the door of the house and I just hope he's not mad at me." You sighed, taking a step back from Jeff.

"Oh, he won't be able to stay mad when he sees you in his hotel room. Which reminds me, we should go. You know how Gareth is, he cannot stay in one place for too long. Eddie and Grant promised they would keep him as busy as they could but, something tells me he's ready to be back in his hotel room thinking about you all alone." Jeff teased, grabbing your bag from you. You rolled your eyes and smiled, playfully hitting Jeff on the arm as you followed him out of the airport and to the taxi he had waiting for you both.

"So, how has the tour been?" You asked Jeff as you turned towards him in the backseat of the taxi. He looked at you and smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's been fun, it's also been different because I feel like we are just going nonstop; I’m tired.” He admitted, “but, it’s definitely been a lot of fun.”

"Well, I hope you know that everyone back home is so proud of you guys and we all miss you like crazy," you smiled softly.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, looking at you. "You're just trying to butter me up because you want to see your boyfriend."

You gasped, placing a hand on your heart. "Come on, now. A girl can't compliment her friends?" Jeff laughed, shaking his head.

"No, she can. But, we both know as soon as you and Gareth see each other that the rest of us won't see you for the remainder of the night. You’ll be in each other's arms until tomorrow morning." He winked, smirking slightly. You blushed, trying to come up with an argument but you couldn't; Jeff was definitely right.

It had been far too long since you and Gareth had last seen each other in person. The phone calls while he was away on tour only did so much; you just longed to be back in the arms of your boyfriend for at least a night. Sleeping next to him, smelling his cologne, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to his body subconsciously in the middle of the night, listening to his little snores that escaped his body through the night. 

Seeing Gareth would make everything feel right again, at least, for a little bit.

So, when you finally made it to his hotel room, you set your stuff down and looked around. Yeah, this was definitely Gareth's room. There were clothes everywhere, pairs of his Converse and Vans were thrown about next to his suitcase on the floor, the little pink stuffed teddy bear you and him made together at the store in Hawkins sat on the bed perfectly. You smiled to yourself, tidying up his room slightly.

“Yes, I know,” you heard Gareth say through the door of his hotel room, you looked to the door and giggled to yourself, looking for a place to hide. You found the tiny closet and hid inside, closing the door slightly. “Thanks, guys,” Gareth added, opening the door of his hotel room. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, locking it quickly.

Gareth walked into his room, setting a box down on the little table in the corner before he sat on his bed, running his hand through his fluffy hair. “Happy birthday to me,” he mumbled to himself, lying back on his bed. You peeked your head out of the closet door, watching him as he closed his eyes, resting his hands on his head.

You slowly tiptoed out of the closet, quietly moving towards the bed where your boyfriend was lying. You sat on the bed carefully, lying back next to Gareth. He felt the bed dip, turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow. When he saw you his eyes widened and a smile appeared on his face. He rolled towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his body. Gareth held you close to him, burying his head into your neck gently, “I missed you, princess,” he mumbled against your neck.

“I missed you too,” you hummed. “And, happy birthday, Gare,” you said softly, smiling as you kissed the top of his head gently and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair. He pulled away slightly and rested his head on your chest, smiling up at you like an idiot.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his fingers gently running up and down your side lazily. 

“What am I doing here?” You repeated, smiling at him as you pushed his soft hair out of his face. “It’s your birthday, why wouldn’t I be here?” You asked, kissing his forehead gently. 

“Well, yeah, but; okay, how did you get here?” He asked, closing his eyes at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. 

“Jeff picked me up from the airport while Eddie and Grant were with you.” You smiled, looking at him. 

“Well, I’m really glad you’re here,” he said, moving his head closer to yours. “I thought maybe you forgot my birthday.” He admitted softly, looking at you. 

“I could never forget your birthday, babe,” you replied, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Never,” you mumbled against his lips. He smiled into the kiss, his left hand moving up your body before stopping at your face. Gareth held your face softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheek as he deepened the kiss slightly. 

You smiled into the kiss, your right hand moving to the back of his head, your fingers tangling through his locks gently. You tugged on his hair slightly, a small groan escaping his lips. “God, I missed you,” he sighed, pulling away from the kiss. He kissed down your jaw, leaving soft and sloppy kisses on your neck. He made it to the spot on your neck that always drove you crazy and nibbled on it gently. 

You moaned softly, closing your eyes as he continued to kiss up and down your neck. “Fuck, Gareth, I missed you too.” You said softly, fingers continuing to tug on his hair. 

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled through kisses. Gareth played with the hem of your shirt before he tugged it up, pulling it over your body. He trailed kisses down your collarbones and over your chest, mumbling along the way. “I missed seeing you,” he said as he kissed across your chest. “I missed holding you,” he added, kissing down your stomach. “I missed making you feel so good and hearing you moan my name,” he muttered, kissing further and further down your stomach. He stopped at the waistband of your jeans and looked up at you, a small smirk on his face as you squirmed underneath him. 

“Gareth,” you moaned softly, looking down at him.

“Just like that, baby girl,” he said with a small cocky grin as he undid your jeans, sliding them down your legs gently. He pulled your lace panties down next, placing soft and lingering kisses up and down your thighs as he spread your legs open wide for him. 

He kissed up your thighs and across your lower stomach before leaving soft and sweet kisses on your clit gently. You moaned, your fingers moving through his hair again as he looked up at you with a smile. 

Gareth moved his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him before he licked a small stripe up your folds. He groaned as he tasted you, mumbling to himself. “God, baby girl, you always taste so good, missed being able to taste you.” You blushed at his words, moaning as you watched your boyfriend go back to licking up and down your folds. 

“Gareth,” you sighed softly, watching him. He hummed against you, moving to leave more kisses on your clit. He kissed it softly and sucked on it, baby blue eyes watching you as he moved his fingers to your core. He swiped up some of your slick and teased your entrance before pushing his pointer and middle finger into you slowly. You gasped at the feeling, falling back onto the bed as your fingers tightened their grip on his soft locks. 

He groaned against your clit, pumping his fingers into you slowly. “Yes, baby girl?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, eyes closed as he continued to pump his fingers, curling them slightly. “Missed you, fuck, I can’t make myself feel good like you make me feel good,” you sighed, grinding against his fingers. 

“Aw, baby,” he muttered, picking up the pace with his fingers. “You flatter me,” he added, sucking softly on your clit again. You moaned louder, the grip on his hair so tight that he groaned against you. He curled his fingers again, pumping them at a faster pace as he watched you come apart above him. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, “ah, Gareth, gonna cum,” you warned, grinding against his fingers more. He moaned softly, curling his fingers again. 

“Come on, beautiful, cum for me,” he said, “let the boys and everyone else in this hotel know who makes you feel so good.” 

You moaned his name loudly, grinding against him as you clenched around his fingers releasing all over them. You loosened your grip on his hair as you fell back against the bed, breathing harder.

“Fuck, baby girl, I missed hearing you,” Gareth said softly, removing his fingers from your core. He looked up at you and winked, sucking your juices off of his fingers. “God, I missed tasting you too,” he sighed, trailing kisses up your body before he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

You groaned when you tasted yourself on his lips and moved to tug his shirt off. He pulled back from the kiss and removed his shirt before unbuttoning his jeans, sliding both them and his boxers off in one quick movement. 

Before long he was crawling back on top of you, placing another kiss on your lips. The tip of his cock teased your entrance, slotting through your folds before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss, moving your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss. 

“Gareth,” you moaned, looking up at him. He smiled at you as he pushed inside of you fully, staying still for a second. 

“Hi,” he said softly, leaving kisses on your neck gently. You giggled at him and moved your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck. 

“You’re a dork,” you replied, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. 

“Mhm,” he hummed against your neck as he started to slowly thrust in and out of you. “But I’m your dork,” he replied, nipping at your neck gently. 

“Yeah,” you gasped, feeling him move slowly. “Unfortunately,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Hey,” he pouted, pulling away from your neck. You giggled at his pout, leaning up to kiss it gently. 

“Sorry, you know how much I love you,” you mumbled as Gareth continued to rock his hips slowly, thrusting as slow and deep as he could. “You’re such an amazing boyfriend, and I love you so much,” you said, looking up at him. You moaned softly at his movements before continuing, “and, I missed you so much. I’m so happy for you and I’m so glad you’re doing what you love but it’s so lonely at home,” you added. 

“I know, baby girl,” he said softly, kissing your lips again as he thrusted deeply, staying there for a second. “I missed you too, there were countless times where I just wanted to hop on a plane and come home, you know? Say fuck the tour and come fuck you instead.” He groaned, kissing you again as he started thrusting more. 

“Mhm,” you hummed in acknowledgment as he continued thrusting. “But, baby, this is your dream,” you said softly, looking up at him. “You’ve always dreamed of touring the country, sharing your music with your friends.” 

He nodded, moaning softly. “You’re right, it is. But you’re also my dream.” 

“That’s sweet and all but.. elaborate?” You asked, leaving some kisses on his neck. 

“We’ve been together for as long as I can remember,” he started, thrusting a little faster now. “And, I just, I don’t know. I want to settle down with you at some point; you know.. get married, have a family, live a perfectly happy life together. And, if I’m on tour with the guys I just feel like I can’t do that.” He sighed, looking at you with a small frown.

“Oh, baby,” you said softly, pulling away from his neck. You looked up at him, kissing his lips lovingly. “Don’t worry about that; you know how much I love you. I want you to chase your dreams and be happy. I’ll always be right beside you cheering you on the entire time. Plus, we’re still so young; maybe we enjoy our lives for a bit before we try to throw some kids in the mix,” you suggested softly. 

“Aw, come on, you don’t want to be pregnant with my kids?” He chuckled, thrusting more. 

“Maybe someday, just not.. today,” you replied, looking up at him. 

He grunted, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “Mhm, so then, where am I cumming?” He asked, leaving kisses on your neck and chest again. 

You groaned, closing your eyes. “Fuck it, inside. It’s your birthday, after all,” you giggled softly. He moaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you. You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a moan. 

“Yeah, please,” you sighed, closing your eyes. Gareth moaned loudly, thrusting deep inside of you as he came, ropes of his cum coating your walls. You groaned at the feeling, clenching around him as you released around him yet again. His thrusts turned slow and sloppy, riding out of both your highs before he collapsed on top of you with a huff.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nuzzling his head into your neck as he stayed buried deep inside of you. “God, you’re perfect, I love you so fucking much. I missed you..” he sighed, wrapping his arms around your body gently.

“Mhm,” you giggled as his hair tickled your neck. “I love you too, and I missed you too. Happy birthday,” you smiled, playing with his hair gently.

“Best birthday sex ever,” he admitted, looking up at you. “Want some cake?” He asked, grinning up at you.

“Cake?” You asked, looking at him.

“Mhm,” he nodded, slowly pulling out of you with a sigh before he stood up. “I was really bummed I wasn't going to see you today but I was extremely bummed I was going to miss out on your homemade red velvet cake,” he explained as he walked towards the bathroom to clean himself up. He returned seconds later with a washcloth to help clean you up as well. “So, Eddie and Grant took me to this bakery that is supposed to be really good, but I'm not sure if anything can beat your cake, princess.” 

After cleaning you up Gareth handed you your panties and his shirt before he slid his boxers back on. You quickly got dressed and followed after him, pulling out a few small candles and some matches from your bag. “A birthday cake needs some candles,” you smiled, placing the candles in the cake.

“Where did you get the candles?” He asked, looking at you.

“Jeff gave them to me,” you replied as you lit the candles carefully. You looked at Gareth and smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. “Make a wish, Gare,” you said softly, kissing his cheek.

“Oh, believe me, my wish already came true with you, baby.” He replied, kissing your head before he looked at the cake and blew the candles out.

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem! Florist!Reader

Chapter Five: Calla Lilies - Beauty

Summary: A sleepless night manages to bring you and Andrew together in a way neither of you would have expected.

Word Count: 3080

Author's Note: hi my darlings! hope you're all doing well. writing this fic has been so much fun so far, and this chapter was no exception, so i hope you enjoy this chapter of late-night shenanigans.

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @wub-wub-wub-wub-wub @padfootblackswh0r3

as always, fic below the cut <3

It was two in the morning and you were wide awake.

You were up against your will. There was an attempt to go to sleep, but it was a solid hour of tossing and turning that soon became futile. No matter how hard you tried you were wide awake. You wanted to go to sleep, your day being so long and exhausting you couldn’t wait until your head hit your pillow. When you tried, however, you were the most energized you had been all day. How ironic.

You had no idea what could be causing this sudden bout of insomnia. Actually, that was a lie. You had a few theories. Having coffee in the afternoon, as you did today, sometimes caused you to stay up late. There was a sort of tension your energy, though it wasn’t something that caffeine could replicate. After that, the excitement of finding your favorite movie on streaming, making yourself some popcorn and watching it in its entirety, helped you to make it to midnight.

Now there was only one thing keeping you from falling asleep.

The adrenaline from sending a stupid text. To Andrew, of all people.

It had been a month since you first met, and only three weeks since you visited his tattoo parlor, and since then you both kept your promises. You met up during lunches a few times each week, when you both were free.

It wasn't until today, however, when you realized Andrew didn't even have your number. He gave you his on the first day he met you, but that was strictly professional. Today he finally crossed over into your personal bubble. You added him to your contacts, typing in the name Andrew, but backing up upon hearing his suggestion. “You can put in Andy, if you'd like,” he had said as he peered over your shoulder. You listened to him, and now, both in your phone and your mind, he was Andy.

The rest of your day was exhausting, mentally and physically. It was one of your busiest days in a while, which in theory was fantastic, but in practice leaned more towards stressful. Not to mention one coworker was sick and the other had a family emergency, meaning everything that happened today was solely in your hands. So much running around and so many orders that most of your day was a blur of petals. There wasn't even enough time for you to use flower language., picking flowers based on aesthetic appeal and not meaning. It pained you to do it every time.

Fast forward past eating a Chinese take-out dinner and watching a comfort romcom to now. You were lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, so hopeless you were considering even counting sheep. You were recounting the events of the day in your head. Anything to get you to sleep faster. When you arrived to Andrew— Andy — giving you his number, you paused, and in a moment on spontaneity that could have been only caused by sleep deprivation, you reached for your phone off the nightstand and unlocked it.

You opened the page for his contact, and in your tired and frankly emotionally unstable state, you thought it would be a good idea to text him. After midnight. For the first time.

It wasn't anything salacious, just a simple “hi”. Not even capitalized, which was your try at being casual. There weren't any ulterior motives, either; an attempt at starting a conversation was all that it was. Still, you regretted that text the moment it was sent.

Cursing yourself, you went to delete your message, only to find he had already seen it.

Shit. No backing down now.

You went to type an excuse, that it was meant for someone else and you were sorry to text him so late and you promised you weren't under the influence.

Until you saw three dots pop up on his side. He was texting back.

Shit. Again.

There was no way he was of sound body and mind and texting you so late. What if he was drunk (or even worse, completely sober) and thought you wanted a hookup? Would you be completely opposed to that? Of course you would be. You had morals and standards and he had hands you couldn't stop staring at and tattoos that caused your mind to wander—

Your phone buzzed, jolting you out of your thinking. He sent his text: Hey. It was followed by Is everything alright?, a valid question considering the circumstances, but a small pang of guilt ran through you at the idea of worrying him. You took a moment to think before typing out your reply.

everything is fine! i can't sleep, that's all.

just thought i’d say hello.

Hoping your explanation would suffice, you watched your screen as, almost immediately, he typed back.

Do you usually text at odd hours of the night?

You shook your head as if he could see you and typed again.

nope. you're just special.

extra perks for being such a loyal patron.

An almost immediate reply came from his end.

Right, I’m your favorite customer. I almost forgot my title.

Suddenly you were much more open to the idea of staying up. What was another hour without sleep? If anything, you could take tomorrow— today, really — off and spend the day napping and over-analyzing every text. All you’d have to do is pop in to the shop and make sure the sign said you were closed. A foolproof plan.

As you wrapped up planning your next sleep-deprived twelve hours, your phone buzzed again.

Might as well attempt to have a normal conversation, right?

How was your day?

He always was so considerate. You chose your words carefully in your reply, sugarcoating the type of day you had.

my day was crazy to say the least.

to the point that it might be why i’m losing sleep

You didn’t want to be a burden, so you kept it short and sweet. It always gave you such a guilt to lament to others if you had a bad day or an overall unpleasant experience. According to his reply, Andy hadn’t thought of it like that at all.

Would you want to call instead? To talk about it?

His question stopped you for a moment, and you debated on some pros and cons before typing out your response.

sure.

but no video calling. i look a mess.

The very large pro of getting to hear his voice outweighed the various other cons, which you now had trouble remembering.

I doubt that. I can’t imagine you not looking great.

He had to be doing this on purpose, specifically sending messages that could be considered flirting, all with the purpose of making your heart flutter. You had to acknowledge how juvenile the whole experience was. Getting flustered over a text was something you would've done as a teenager, and never would have imagined you'd be doing at your grown age.

But I’ll spare you the video call to save you from my disheveled state.

You breathed out a laugh, and positioned yourself so that you were sitting up.

You pressed the button to call him and waited with bated breath. One ring. Then another. Then another. Until he picked up.

“Hey,” he said, and you could even hear him smiling through the phone.

“Hi.”

As usual, Andrew was overthinking.

Sending him a text so late had to be a mistake. It was meant for another friend or a confidant, surely; someone you would be comfortable with knowing that you were up so late. Not him, who you'd only known for a month and yes, had gotten closer to, but not this close.

He took the opportunity he was given to get to know you better, to feel like friends instead of awkward acquaintances. He found himself smiling down at his screen, sometimes even laughing at what you were saying. But it wasn’t without its challenges.

Texting was much too confusing of a method of conversation for him, especially conversation with you. Where did banter cross the line into flirting? If such a line did exist, it felt like you both were playing jump rope with it. And why is it so hard to tell someone’s tone over text? How was he supposed to know if you truly meant what you said?

If he meant what he said?

Of course he did. Every image of you in his mind was gorgeous. He wouldn’t— he couldn’t — lie about that.

Negotiating out of a video call was a smart decision on both of your parts, considering neither of you looked your best. He certainly didn't, in an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt so worn-out he couldn't tell you what band logo was on it if he tried. He couldn’t help but visualize you on the other end, hair probably messy and undone, wearing only an over-sized shirt and shorts, leaving your legs and your thighs exposed—

Even though he was expecting it, the sound of his ringtone caused him to jump.

For most of his contacts, a call past midnight would be sent to voicemail and called back after ten minutes and a message saying he was “asleep” and had “just woken up from the sound of his ringtone” and various other lies he used to convince others he had a normal sleep schedule. You were an exception to this, along with seemingly every other rule Andrew had in his life.

So for your call, he accepted it, but not before letting it ring a few times at the risk of seeming too desperate.

Who had you turned him into?

There was no point in resisting the smile on his face when he finally indulged himself and answered.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

He wished there wasn’t any awkwardness between you, that there weren’t any lulls in your conversations. But life is not a romantic comedy, and he was too… tense when it came to you. It wasn’t until an uncomfortable amount of time passed that he spoke again, leaning towards his phone.

“So, how are you?”

“That's a loaded question . Why don't you start?”

“Oh, I’m grand, thank you very much.”

He couldn’t sit still, even if he tried. The (very unnecessary) nerves he was feeling wouldn’t let him. In fact, they dragged him out of his bed and to his kitchen. They took out his kettle, put some water to boil, and grabbed some teabags. His mouth helped to keep the conversation going as he rambled about his day. Your conversation went on normally, only interrupted when his kettle whistled.

“What's that I hear on the other end?”

“Oh, I’m making myself some tea. Always helps me get to sleep.”

“Wow, trying to get rid of me already, Andy?”

He raised his eyebrows, momentarily forgetting he had given you permission to call him by the nickname.

“More like trying to prevent how much I’ll hate myself in the morning if I don't go to sleep soon.”

He could hear you hum in agreement, and waited a second before speaking again.

“Anyways, tell me about this hellish day of yours.”

He could hear you exhale into the phone and prepared himself to listen intently to what would be a long rant.

“Well, first of all, work was busy. It was a Saturday, and that is usually the day when we’re at our busiest, but today was almost…abnormal. I won’t lie, it was overwhelming. In the grand scheme of things, though, it's good. We need more days like today. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?”

He was afraid of the answer, but he asked it anyway. Your voice lowered, like someone else could hear your conversation.

“You're the only person outside of my job I’m telling this to, so please don't spread this, but if we don't start making more sales, we might foreclose. I just found out today.”

His heart sank. It took a moment for him to sputter out a reply, initially too shocked to speak.

“You're kidding! Is there something you could do?”

“Well, I looked into it, and my options are limited. I’m not selling the property, and I’m sure as hell not giving up the deed. I’d have to negotiate something else but even then, we might not have the money to keep going.”

“That’s… horrible.”

Another silence, one that resembled a mourning period. He let you wait it out, knowing it was hard for you to even think about losing the shop.

“So, yeah. That caused a few gray hairs this morning. And then, as the cherry on top of this shitfest sundae of a day, my mom called. Usually not a problem, except she asked me the one question I dread the most.”

“And what is that?”

“‘When are you going to find a nice man and settle down? You can't do this flower thing forever.’ Like it's not my job! My job that I absolutely love, and she knows it.”

“I can only imagine how invalidated that makes you feel.”

“Thank you for recognizing that. It's extremely invalidating. As for the settling down bit, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I’d need a man to be interested in me first.”

He had no idea what came over him when he started his sentence, but the words left his mouth quicker than he could think.

“I mean, if you really wanted to, I-”

All that momentary courage just to be cut off by a comment you made, likely intended as a joke, but one that still caused him to come to a stop.

“You have a friend I could try?”

He retracted away from the phone at your words, just slightly. He knew you weren't serious but just the thought of it made him nauseous.

It stayed silent for a beat. He waited for you to say something, anything, because he was not initiating that conversation. You spoke after a painstaking few seconds.

“I’m kidding.”

The silence between you hung in the air and twisted into awkwardness.

“Not funny?”

“Not funny,” he replied, shaking his head solemnly. “For the purpose of setting boundaries… I’d prefer if you didn’t make jokes like that.”

Your voice was dripping with guilt when you spoke again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Truly. The boundary is set, and I promise we'll return to my regular scheduled programming of being hilarious and never shutting up.”

“I accept your apology. And don’t say that kind of stuff. I like your excessive bouts of talking.”

“Even if it’s about my flowers?”

A small chuckle on your end let him know the conversation had become lighter again, and he laughed as well.

“Especially if it’s about your flowers.”

“Speaking of, how’s my beautiful bouquet doing? Is she working her magic?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s got tons of compliments.”

“Let me know if it needs a touch-up. The calla lilies typically only last two weeks, and I just got a new shipment, so if anything starts to wilt inexplicably, just tell me and I’ll be there."

“Calla lilies. Those mean beauty, right?”

He heard you let out some noise of confusion, and was afraid he had said something wrong, coming off as a weirdo for suddenly knowing about your interest or not getting his facts correct. He hadn’t even noticed his breath was suspended in throat until he exhaled, set free from the sound of your voice on the other end.

“…Yeah, they do. Not to sound rude, but… how do you know that?”

“A few weeks ago, I couldn’t sleep, so I found a website with an entire list of flora and their meanings and I was actually… really interested. It still put me to sleep, but I learned a few things along the way.”

“Andy, that’s amazing! I’m so excited, I finally have someone to talk about this with. Maybe you could even help me pick out some flowers for a bouquet.”

“I’ll leave that to you, I think.”

“Considering I get paid for it, that's a good idea.”

You keep conversing for a while, topics ranging widely, though slowly Andrew could tell you were starting to feel the effects of the night. He heard you let out a yawn, followed by you pardoning yourself. Over time, your words slowly dissolved into mumbles and deep breaths, and after waiting a moment…

Silence. He put two and two together.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You couldn’t hear him, but he said it anyway.

There seemed to be a common sentiment among your friends that nothing good happens after two a.m. It was an idea stolen from a sitcom years ago and only proven true ever since, from long-term relationships breaking up to retching onto and completely ruining heels worth hundreds of dollars.

You bent that rule slightly. Good things can happen after two a.m., but you have to suffer the consequences, a headache only made worse by your refusal to rest being one of them. A secondary consequence being the burden of not physically seeing each other today. Overall, the remainder of your necessary day of rest was refreshing, if not filled with multiple power naps and your conversations with Andrew not leaving your head.

Andy didn't get this easy way out. He had an appointment made months beforehand, and it would be horrible of him to cancel on such short notice. He got some sleep after he hung up. Three hours to be exact. Nothing that couldn’t be balanced out by a black coffee and deluding himself into feeling awake. He’d done it so often it was almost like clockwork, training himself to run on very little sleep. Unfortunately, his one appointment of the day took almost five hours to complete, and he did feel his eyelids droop more than once. Thank goodness his work wasn’t affected.

Your conversation also carried on into the day, him texting in between breaks, not wanting to spend a moment where you two weren't communicating. He could put his past grievances with texting as a medium aside.

There was only one thing you said throughout the day that stopped him in his tracks.

i forgot to ask last night, but why were you up so late?

He took a few minutes to reply, contemplated how to tell you the truth, but not in it’s entirety

I was thinking.

He left out what he was thinking about, what caused his sleepless night.

You.

[belovedivies]

裏 ft. yuika

cw: spoiler alert for yuika's backstory, mentions of typical-canon violence and death, emotional manipulation, suicidal thoughts, general bad vibes. pre-simon arc, implied kageo/yuika. masterlist

Sometimes, Yuika wondered what life would have been like if her whole clan hadn't been eradicated.

She's not delusional enough to think it would be a fairy-tale happy ending or anything. Ever since her childhood, those days weren't an easy path filled with sunshine and rainbows that people loved to sing praises about: a fuck ton of rules to obey as the future heiress, long indoor training hours until her heart threatened to stop, and maybe candy for a treat on rare occasions because, for all the wealth her Wandering Ghost Blade clan had had, she couldn't afford the luxury of simply being a kid.

It's no fun for a girl like her. Soft hands, big smiles, and a head full of ideas—all Yuika ever wanted was someone she could talk to. The servants would brush her hair, draping her body in the finest silk on every birthday as Yuika browsed through an array of perfumes expensive enough to feed an entire nation of starving people. What started as a delight that her muted world had gained some temporary vibrant colors soon became another burgeoning monotony. When those bottles filled up a whole room and her maids' comments felt more like bittering jabs than they were applauds, the cheerful child in Yuika also died a little.

But at least she still has her mother.

Kageo, too. The two people who made her feel like an actual person somewhat rather than a statue on a pedestal. They just didn't have the chance to be around that much in the past, and sadly so was she. Day-in and day-out etiquette lessons and sword practices ensured that none of her time could be wasted on mundane interactions. Her uncle was a strict man, and for years, Yuika was stuck in this confusing loop of thanking the man for what he had done for the clan when her father couldn't, resenting him for the way he had treated Kageo, and fearing that one day he might turn his back against the ones he called family. Still, he did what he had to do for her and the clan. Even until his dying breath, the old man had only wanted the best for Yuika.

But what had she wanted for herself?

What if there hadn't been a firelit graveyard filled with rotting, gas-filled corpses that Kageo had carried her away from on that fateful night, but a cozy lawn in the summer moonlight?

Deep within the mansion, tucked safely underneath the futon's duvet, Yuika would sleep like a baby. Her duties wouldn't be any less daunting, her people wouldn't look at her as anything but a pretty doll on display, and her life would still be laid out for her.

But maybe…

Maybe she could spend more time with her mother. Flashed her doe eyes and begged hard enough so that she would let her sweet girl tag along for afternoon tea. Yuika missed her gentle touches; how she wanted to sit on her mother's lap and hear the woman talk about her day again, just once more.

Maybe, with some effort and miracle, she could convince her austere old uncle to mellow out a little. He shouldn't be so harsh on people for things they couldn't control. Yuika used to wish he would see how unfair he was and how it would be so much better if he stopped viewing everyone outside the clan as a threat.

Maybe she could finally talk to Kageo without risking him another brutal beating.

Maybe she could have been more than a husk filled with vengeance and hatred.

Maybe she could be normal.

But her whole family was dead; her hands were soaked in the blood of two thousand individuals and counting; her name and Kageo's plastered all over Japan and the FBI's warrant.

Sometimes, Yuika wondered if she regretted the person she had become.

Maybe she did.

—

The second time Yuika thought about it rationally, her heart in her throat and your hands on her shoulders, she realized that she hated this life too.

It's fine. At least they weren't on the run anymore; one week after Raphael took the pair of street rats in and gifted them a fancy ship. Kageo was out discussing whatever with the new boss, but Yuika couldn't be bothered. All the time wasted on revenge, all the things she wanted to say to him had turned into her barely saying anything meaningful at all. A hundred miles away from land on the Ghost Cruise, Yuika heard the waves and saw the barely-there ray of a distant lighthouse through the window; your fingers carded through her hair, the phantom of a caress.

"How's Yuu-chan settling in, hmm?" you chirp. "Is everything to your liking?"

Glory Club seemed to have a penchant for idiosyncrasy, she thought. Both in the way this place functioned and how its subjects were treated. She wasn't complaining; she finally got a place to stay and a large tub to relax in, sprinkled with a few drops of lavender oil and rose petals. Yuika reeled her mind back to reality, letting out a small chuckle of her own when your fingers curled around a lock of her hair with more force than needed.

"Everything's perfect," she said, wetting her tongue when she remembered she had one. "Kageo and I would like to thank you again for your kindness."

Your grip loosened instantly as you let out a giggle, each titter cutting the back of Yuika's skull like a sharp blade. "Raphael's kindness," your jollity was still there, fingertips massaging the shampoo into her scalp. "But I'm glad; you're definitely looking better than you were last week, Yuu-chan!"

She allowed herself a humorless smile. "Do I?"

"Of course!" another enthusiastic remark. When your thumbs grazed the back of her neck, Yuika briefly wondered how many lives those hands had taken. "Your hair feels softer now, your eye bags are gone, and even your mood seems to increase too— well, you killed two of my brother's underlings today, but that's okay! Yuu-chan is happy, right?"

Because she was finally home.

In some ways, she hadn't changed at all. Yuika wasn't any less scared or clueless than the girl she had been thirteen years ago on that stormy night, rushing through the villa barefoot to reach her mother's chamber. She opened up to you almost too easily, finding solace in your touch like a bear that had been melted into butter. You reminded her of the woman so much; it's weird. It's so fucking weird. You're so fucking weird. Who the fuck invited someone they barely knew for a bath?

There was this sudden, crushing silence, save for the sound of water sloshing as you rinsed her hair. Yuika pursed her lips—neither a yes or no to your earlier query—and said your name. Quietly. Hesitantly. Like she was the one giving the question instead.

But you pressed closer, every inch of your front touching her back, and somehow, somehow Yuika already knew your answer before you even voiced it out.

"Hmm? What is it, Yuu-chan?"

"Why us?"

Why chose them?

Why brought them in and showered them in benignity?

She shouldn't be thinking this much, but you nuzzled into the junction where her neck met her shoulders; hands circling her waist underneath the water like a mother's embrace on a winter eve; smile imprinting her skin like an uncle's rare approval; eyes packed with a loving warmth like the daisies her and Kageo smelt that July noon in the bamboo trail behind the clan, and Yuika wanted to curl up and die, just a little bit.

"Yuu-chan, let me say this."

She let you.

"I remember when you first came in," you traced some unknown, asinine shapes on her stomach. "Tired, hopeless, and burnt out. You were a shell," the motion stopped as your hands left her midriff to dance spider-quick up her arms. "Barely eating, barely sleeping."

She was barely even alive when Kageo dragged her sorry ass from whatever shitty motel they hid in all the way to Korea.

"Who took you in? Who helped you?"

Kageo, I'm hungry. Where are we gonna go? We killed them; we killed them all. I didn't fucking choose this life. I never wanted us to be fugitives. You should just leave me be. Kageo, Kageo! I heard the sirens—

"Y-You," Yuika choked out, the gentle waves on the side of the ship ringing like a thousand agonizing screams in her ears. "You helped us."

"Raphael helped you." you corrected her, softly. Hands resting on her shoulders like the starting point of a never-ending game. "Because?"

"We need him."

"And?"

"He needs us."

"To?"

"Kill Peter."

"That's right," you patted her shoulders, then her hair. Each digit rubbed against her scalp as if nothing was amiss. As if they weren't on a giant cruise in the middle of the ocean, and Yuika wasn't trembling with the weight of her existence.

When she stilted, you giggled. Louder this time. "You're very talented, Yuu-chan," squeezed her. "But you're too soft; you don't belong in this world."

Not when the guilt of what she did still shadowed her.

Not when the gore and carnage wore her skin and burnt into her flesh.

Yuika couldn't learn to love the danger this line of work brought if what actively kept her alive now was the thought that one day she would get away from it.

"Shh," you cooed, smoothing out her still-damp hair before she could muster the strength to weep. "I know, Yuu-chan. You're not here to stay. Do your part well, and you can leave. Both of you."

"I," Yuika gritted her teeth. "But I did so many unforgivable things—"

"I've done far worse." the girl almost flinched when you tugged sharply on her hair, but instead of sharp pain, there was this fuzzy, suffocating warmth spreading down her spine. "So don't think too much, okay?" you continued, chiding her with an amused laugh. "Silly Yuu-chan," a soft sigh left your lips. "You deserve happiness too!"

"I… I do?" she mutters, small and helpless.

"I wouldn't think otherwise," another chuckle. The water rippled and splashed around them as she felt you stand up, followed by a cheerful, "Let's go; those two might be back soon." that strangely, anomalously brought a wry curl to her lips.

But when Yuika turned her head around, you weren't smiling at her.

taglist: @yaoduriaa @anjeliquesworld @crazycatwithscissors @i-anoobis-i @galaxyquirks @poppytartt @funsizedlaziness @missroro @hot-mexican-rat @hdstudio-045 @jaazoldyck @izzatune

[mrpenguinpants]

Cat Distribution System [ Commissioned ]

— Recently, there have been reports of a large food shortage sweeping across Sumeru. The culprit? It's a...cat? Hang on- is this the right script?

Word Count: 4.8k

— Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wanderer + Cyno

Request: [ A platonic first encounter fic with a lazy/messy demon cat boy who is the personification of gluttony. ] Reader is based on an OC, so there are a few extra details/lore, but no OC names or physical details are mentioned. This is still an x reader fic. [Masterlist]

Thank you for commissioning me and trusting me with your OC again! While I didn't go as deep into the origin story as last time, I hope I did justice to his lore and character traits. I hope you like it!

“So, let me get this straight,” Kaveh starts, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. His brow furrowed slightly as his eyes flicked toward the figure across the table, who was happily stuffing his face with bits of chicken and Baklava—a bizarre combination that made Kaveh’s stomach turn. How was that not the worst flavor combination? Sweet, followed by the lingering taste of meat? And was that the crunk of teeth grinding against bones as well? Absolutely revolting. “You went out to investigate the food shortages in the desert, and somehow, you returned with... that?”

“Correct,” Alhaitham replied, his voice calm and detached, not even bothering to glance up from the pages of his book. He was so absorbed in his reading that it was as if the entire world around him had faded into the background. The giant elephant in the room—wait, no, cat—was the more appropriate term, Kaveh realized, his gaze drifting to the source of his growing exasperation seemingly dismissed. With a resigned sigh, he cast a pained glance to the otherfg side, where two fluffy ears flicked back and forth in a way that might have been endearing, had the man not been in the midst of devouring half the dishes they had. He was eating through Kaveh’s body weight in food, and with each bite, the pile of empty plates grew, a silent testament to the chaos of it all. Who exactly was going to foot the bill for this little catastrophe?

Kaveh stared. He stared hard. “What… is that?”

It wasn’t as though Kaveh was unacquainted with people sporting animal-like features—after all, he’d spent a good part of his morning discussing dwindling resources with Tighnari, whose sharp ears and bushy tail were as much a part of him as his sharp wit. But this? This was something else entirely. Never in his wildest dreams—or nightmares—had Kaveh imagined the source of Sumeru’s mounting food crisis would manifest as two twitching ears, an equally fluffy tail, and a bottomless appetite housed in what could only be described as a walking, purring catastrophe.

“Looks like we bit off more than we could chew,” Cyno said, lowering himself into a chair with the deliberate weight of someone resigned to his fate. Arms crossed and tone as dry as Sumeru’s deserts, he added, “And now we’re all stuck digesting the consequences.”

A long, theatrical groan followed, drawing attention to the figure at the table who was steadily sliding downward like butter left out in the sun. Kaveh collapsed further into the wood, his head resting on folded arms, his posture and overall energy reminiscent of a melting slime abandoned after battle—defeated, formless, and thoroughly unappealing.

"If you can still joke like that, I’ll take it as a sign that everything’s perfectly under control?" Kaveh sighed, his tone soft but laced with a hint of exasperation as he rubbed his temples, as though the pun had somehow caused actual harm. He shifted slightly closer to Alhaitham, who despite already having checked out of the conversation leans in, raising one hand to his mouth like a makeshift shield. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Kaveh added, "But seriously… if everything’s fine, then why exactly is the culprit here?"

“He followed us back,” Alhaitham said, his voice cool and dispassionate as if recounting a minor inconvenience rather than a monumental lapse in judgment. Kaveh blinked, his mind briefly short-circuiting as it tried to process the absurdity of the situation. The infamously meticulous scribe—who went out of his way to ensure his time card was never a second past overtime—took work home with him?

“He followed you back? And you didn't do anything to stop him?” Kaveh echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief as if repeating the question could somehow rewrite the reality he was hearing. The light-hearted atmosphere faltered, quickly replaced by a heavier silence as Cyno and Alhaitham exchanged a glance, one filled with a silent understanding Kaveh couldn’t quite place. Cyno’s expression darkened, his usual sternness sharpening into something far more severe, like a storm suddenly gathering on the horizon. His gaze flickered toward the corner of the table, where their... unwelcome guest lingered, before returning it to Kaveh with an almost apologetic weight.

“We didn’t exactly have a choice,” Cyno muttered, his voice edged with a reluctant resignation, as though the truth of the situation was one he was still struggling to fully accept. The words hung in the air, heavy with the uncomfortable reality of their predicament. The young man—cat? Kaveh paused, wondering if it was offensive to think of him as a “cat” in his mind. Maybe it was too soon to make that judgment, but the behavior was hard to ignore. The man gave a small huff, his tail flicking with a quick and irritated motion.

“You didn’t have to bring me,” he muttered, his voice laced with casual defiance, “I could’ve found more food on my own.”

“And left more skeletons in the rainforest?” Cyno shot back, his tone dry. The cat man shrugged, the movement causing his ears to twitch with a playful smile. No remorse whatsoever.

“I was hungry,” he said with a casual shrug, his tone almost too smooth, as though hunger itself were a completely reasonable excuse for his behavior, “It’s not my fault this place has no decent food.”

“Wait, hold on. You’re telling me that this kid—who, by the way, looks like he hasn’t seen a bath in weeks, and that’s putting it lightly—has been roaming around the forest, eating his way through everything he comes across, and leaving carcasses in his wake like some kind of... monstrous scavenger?” Kaveh’s eyes narrowed, his mind reeling as he tried to piece together the chaos of the moment. Cyno let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the situation. He glanced briefly toward their uninvited guest, whose tail flicked lazily in the corner. Truly the embodiment of a menace, even the stray cats who knocked over flower pots had the same content look. As if they stood above the Archon's themselves.

“That’s... the gist of it,” Cyno admitted, his voice a reluctant blend of resignation and mild disbelief, as though he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around how things had gotten this far. Kaveh’s jaw dropped. His hands shot up in a dramatic gesture of utter disbelief, and he slowly turned his incredulous gaze back to Cyno, then to Alhaitham, and finally to the creature occupying the corner of the table like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And you—you brought him here?! To our place?!” His voice had risen to the point where the last question practically exploded from his mouth, punctuating his growing sense of utter absurdity. He wasn’t sure whether to be horrified, exasperated, or just completely lost for words. Alhaitham exhaled slowly, his fingers pressing against his temples as if trying to stave off the headache threatening to bloom. At least he was starting to realize he couldn't avoid faking deafness to Kaveh's ever-mounting overthinking.

“He’s not a threat to the city. As long as we keep him fed, he won’t cause any trouble,” Alhaitham gestures with his hand, his voice steady, but there was an underlying weight to it. Kaveh, not at all convinced, raised an eyebrow, his skepticism practically radiating from him. He crossed his arms, looking from Alhaitham to their “guest” with barely contained frustration.

“That’s a big assumption,” he muttered, his words laced with more doubt than a stack of building materials. His eyes flicked toward their unwelcome companion, who was now happily licking the remnants of some forgotten dish off his fingers, completely oblivious to the growing tension around him, “What’s to stop him from eating his way through the city next? And I’m not just talking about food. Shouldn't you be more worried than I am Cyno!?”

“If he does, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, he’s just… a nuisance," Cyno glanced over, who, now finished with his meal, was lazily lounging in his chair tipped so far back that it would take the slightest breeze to knock him over.

Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to process everything, “So, let me get this straight once more. You went out to solve a food shortage, and instead of fixing the problem, you brought home a cat with a black hole for a stomach? And before you even start Alhaitham, I know you said he "followed" you back.”

"Ah, so you do listen."

"You-!"

Kaveh opened his mouth to continue arguing but then paused, his eyes narrowing as the gears in his head turned, “Wait a minute. When you invited me out for dinner...was this your way of pushing your problem onto me?! Does this mean I’m stuck dealing with him now?”

“That depends,” Alhaitham hides his mouth with his book, the bastard, “Are you offering to take responsibility for him?”

“This has to be some kind of cosmic joke. I knew I shouldn't have trusted in your good faith! I didn’t sign up to be part of the accidental cat distribution system!” Kaveh's up onto his feet, the chair pushed back with his palms flat against the table in protest.

The visitor tilted his head, his ears twitching. “I don’t know what that means, but if you’re offering food, I’ll stay.”

“I’m not offering food!” Kaveh said quickly, almost defensively.

“It’s not a matter of being fine with it,” Cyno said with a weary sigh, “It’s a matter of necessity. If we left him alone, he’d cause more problems. Alhaitham is still the Acting Grand Sage, and I have to scout the forest for any other "visitors". You’re the only one we can count on, Kaveh.”

Kaveh stared at him for what felt like an eternity, his gaze flicking between Alhaitham and Cyno. His chest tightened, and his mind spun in circles, torn between his growing anxiety and the strange tug of responsibility. His heart twisted and twinged, at war with his brain, which insisted that he had no idea how to take care of a cat, let alone a full-fledged person. Hell, he couldn’t even manage to keep his own life together! But... the look Cyno was giving him was enough to make him falter, his resolve weakening by the second. How many times had Cyno helped him, without question? And technically, wasn’t Alhaitham also turning to him, a trusted senior, to step in? With how much of a brick wall these two were, they’d likely leave a bowl of water and food, lock the door, and pretend this entire mess didn’t exist. But even if the “cat” turned out to be some dangerous menace to Sumeru, he was still just a kid, wasn’t he? It was hard to tell with all the grime and disarray, but Kaveh could never turn his back on someone in need. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know what he was doing—he had a soft spot for lost souls. He sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration, resigning to his fate, “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Perhaps,” Alhaitham, ever the picture of composure, stood up, brushing invisible dust from his clothes as though this entire conversation wasn’t nearly as catastrophic as it felt, “But for now, it’s your disaster too.”.

---

A few weeks had passed since Kaveh found himself reluctantly sharing his space with you—a strange, cat-like humanoid creature who seemed to have no sense of personal boundaries, let alone normal social conventions. Things, as he had feared, had barely improved. Kaveh leaned back in his chair, the creak of the wood echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he squinted up at the ceiling, silently counting the seconds until he would inevitably lose his patience. His life, it seemed, had morphed into an ongoing exercise in suppressing the instinctive desire to be a people-pleaser. Sure, he’d grown accustomed to dealing with clients who would endlessly revise their requests or scrap entire projects at the last minute, but this? This was an entirely different level. At least his clients didn’t sprawl across his desk or raid his fridge as though they were entitled to every last bite of food in the place. And they certainly didn’t follow him around like a persistent shadow, knocking over everything in their path.

Lately, your favorite pastime had been trailing after him, meticulously upending his carefully constructed systems. His drafting room—which had once been a sanctuary of messy but organized—had now become an unrecognizable battleground. Stacks of books, once aligned neatly on the floor, were scattered haphazardly, their contents not even spared the mercies of a half-hearted attempt at organization. More disturbingly, there were signs of clutter everywhere: empty plates left licked cleaned, crumbs scattered as though you’d been purposely grinding the bags into dust, and the occasional abandoned cloth or discarded paper—all remnants of your uninvited presence.

Today, Kaveh watched in silence, eyes narrowing as you sat cross-legged in the corner of the room, flipping through a book with the kind of careless disinterest that set his teeth on edge. Your tail swayed lazily behind you, brushing against the floor with a gentle brush, as though you weren’t inches away from toppling over a lamp if he didn’t keep a vigilant eye on you. It was frankly, unfair. Every time he glanced over, there you were—completely at ease in a space that used to be his own.

“You could at least sit in a chair like a normal person,” Kaveh said, his tone edged with the discontent that had been steadily building up inside him. He gestured toward the chair beside him, pulling it out with a theatrical flourish as though offering you a seat at some royal banquet, “I’m not asking for much here.”

“Chairs are uncomfortable,” you replied without sparing him so much as a glance, your voice casual, almost dismissive. How oddly familiar huh? “And besides, the floor’s warm from the sun.”

Before Kaveh could fire back, the soft sound of deliberate footsteps, accompanied by the faint clinking of bronze, sliced through the tension in the air. Oh, thank god—Alhaitham was home, so he could finally take you off his hands—

But when he turned to look, his words faltered in his throat. It wasn’t Alhaitham.

Instead, it was a young man with blue eyes, fair skin, and short midnight blue hair with choppy bangs falling over unimpressed eyes. Well, at least one of those details was right?

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself this time,” Wanderer remarked, his eyes sweeping over the room with a mix of bemusement and something Kaveh couldn’t quite place. Then his gaze landed on you, relaxed and utterly unfazed, lounging in the corner, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always had a remarkable talent for collecting problems.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened in confusion, his mind scrambling to process the unexpected sight. He had no idea what Wanderer was doing here, or why he’d chosen this exact moment to make his appearance. He didn’t even know the man all that well—certainly not well enough to waltz into his home and deal with the complete disaster Kaveh had found himself trapped in. Kaveh opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he let out an incredulous laugh, his hands trembling slightly.

“W-Wait, what?” Kaveh spun around, his mind struggling to catch up with the scene unfolding in front of him. He glanced from you to Wanderer, and then back to you again, his confusion intensifying with each passing second, “Why you? Why—what are you doing here?”

“Me? I was under the impression you were in need of assistance," Wanderer’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, his voice dripping with the same wry tone he always carried. He leaned casually against the doorframe, the sound of his hat ornaments clicking against each other rings in the room, “You do seem to have a knack for making things... complicated.”

Without missing a beat, his gaze shifted back to you, scrutinizing you with a sharpness that almost seemed to pierce through the haze of frustration Kaveh was feeling, “And this must be the stray I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Stray? Careful with your words, I bite,” You echoed the word with a flicker of annoyance, the corners of your mouth twitching downward as your eyes narrowed. Kaveh, too caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, barely registered the subtle shift in the atmosphere—until he saw it. Small flecks of dark energy, swirling and bubbling up from the surface of the floor like ripples in a disturbed pool, were slowly spreading outward. Kaveh had never seen anyone—let alone you—manifest something like that before. Even when he was hauling your limp body away from his paint water, you only acted as a limp body, “Bold choice of words for someone who looks like they blew in on a bad breeze."

Wanderer didn’t so much as flinch at the jab or the unsettling energy bubbling from the floor. His gaze remained steady, almost bored, as his hand flicked in a smooth motion, summoning a frenzied swirl of anemo that danced wildly in his palm, his expression betraying no sign of concern. Meanwhile, your ears flicked back, irritation flaring within the depths of your gaze, but a sly, almost mischievous grin crept across your face, as though you were ready for whatever came next.

"Spirited, aren’t you?" he mused, his voice as dry and unaffected as ever, "Usually, that’s just a mask for trouble."

"And you’re all business? What, are you his boss now?" You punctuated your question with an almost mocking tilt of your head, letting the tension in the air thicken.

"No," he said bluntly, voice devoid of warmth. Wanderer’s lip curled slightly in disdain, the sharpness of his gaze intensifying as he responded in a tone colder than before, every word clipped with precision, "I don’t have the time—or the patience—to monitor his poor decisions. I’m here because someone asked me to keep an eye on the bigger picture."

"Enough!" Kaveh barked, his voice ricocheting off the walls as he sprang to his feet. His finger jabbed accusingly toward Wanderer, the motion sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room, "If you two want to start duking it out, take it outside! I’ve had enough of this nonsense!"

Wanderer’s gaze remained inscrutable, his expression as neutral as ever, though there was a subtle shift in his eyes—something fleeting, almost imperceptible. The swirling anemo energy in his palm began to wane, dissipating in a controlled, deliberate manner as he flicked his wrist dismissively. The unspoken truce also retracted your claws as the dark elemental energy drifted back into the shadows as if it had never appeared in the first place.

"Overseeing you is hardly necessary," Wander replied, his tone returning to its smooth and cold tone, "The results of your decisions speak for themselves."

He stepped closer, his gaze sharpening on Kaveh, "Are you really prepared to handle the mess you've made? Do you have even the slightest idea of what you've invited into your life? Or are you just fumbling along, hoping it’ll all sort itself out?"

Kaveh’s jaw tightened, fingers twitching as if he might snap at Wanderer, but the words stuck in his throat. His room was a disaster—papers scattered like confetti, books in disarray, and an undeniable scent of half-eaten food filling the air. It was a mess, sure, but it was his mess. He glanced toward you, still sprawled out in the corner like you owned the place, and for a moment, his frustration wavered.

Sure, you were a walking, talking disruption, eating him out of house and home. But... you hadn’t been all that bad. At least you hadn’t burned the place down or knocked over any shelves yet. You were mostly quiet when you weren’t eating his food or moving things around in what he was starting to suspect was some bizarre attempt at helping. It wasn’t perfect, but somehow, despite the mess, things could’ve been worse. With a resigned sigh, Kaveh rubbed his temple and shot a glance at Wanderer. Regardless, Kaveh had taken on the responsibility to house you, even if it was a reluctant decision, but you were still his responsibility. Kaveh let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before waving a hand in Wanderer’s direction as if to brush off his concerns.

“Okay, fine. I’ll admit it—you’re right. I don’t really know who he is, where he came from, or why he insists on eating everything in sight like they’ve been cursed by a bottomless pit of hunger,” He shot you a pointed look, but there was no real malice in it, “But if he truly wanted me dead—whether for my so-called ‘poor decisions’ or because I’m his only source of free food—I think he would’ve made his move by now. I mean, he's had plenty of opportunities.”

He gestured vaguely toward the mess around him. “Like the first night, he crashed here? I was out cold. He could’ve done anything. Poisoned my food, set the place on fire, stolen my mora, or even used me as a chew toy for whatever dark energy nonsense he's capable of,” Kaveh waved his hand dramatically as though painting a dire scenario, then stopped, folding his arms with a huff, “But no. What did he do? He ate their fill, curled up in a corner, and passed out. Hardly the behavior of someone plotting my untimely demise.”

Kaveh turned to Wanderer, his tone shifting from exasperated to firm as he pointed a finger at him, “So, yes, maybe I don’t have all the answers. But at the very least, he's my responsibility right now. If anything goes wrong, it’s on me—not you. And as far as I’m concerned, this house has survived enough without you adding to the chaos. So, if you’d be so kind as to, I don't know, maybe don’t blow the place up, yeah? I’d very much appreciate it. I’m already stressed enough without adding structural repairs to the list.”

There was a brief pause as Kaveh adjusted the collar of his shirt and muttered under his breath, “Honestly, you’d think this house has a giant target painted on it the way things keep happening…”

Wanderer fixed Kaveh with a look that could only be described as utterly unimpressed, letting the heavy silence hang between them like a drawn-out sigh. His blue eyes bounced between the two of you and the tiniest hint of a smirk curled at the corner of his hips. Instead, he leaned back ever so slightly, his posture oozing casual indifference, and gave a shrug so languid it might as well have been an insult in itself.

“Choice,” he began, his voice slow and razor-edged with that detached condescension that always managed to crawl under Kaveh’s skin. Seriously, now that he thinks about it, where did Wanderer even come from to perfect that tone? “It’s the crutch people lean on when they can’t face the fact that they’re at the mercy of fate. A comforting little delusion, isn’t it? But you—”

Wanderer's lips curved into the faintest shadow of a smirk as he gestured vaguely up and down at Kaveh, “You’ve made your bed, Kaveh. Now get comfy.”

Well. That was a rather optimistic outlook. Really did wonders for Kaveh's self-esteem. Thank you for the pep talk—truly inspiring. He needs a better social life, he can only have one pessimistic realist in his life stomping on his poor little emotional heart.

"It’s not about optimism; it’s about reality," Wanderer continues with a new teasing edge, as if reading Kaveh's mind which he really hopes isn't possible, "Not everything goes according to plan, but hey—That’s the fun part, isn’t it? Keeps life… unpredictable."

The way Wanderer said it made Kaveh’s irritation spike, as though he genuinely took pleasure in the spectacle unfolding before him—or more specifically, Kaveh’s exasperation. For a moment, Kaveh paused, his frustration giving way to a fleeting sense of disbelief at just how far things had spiraled out of control. It didn’t ease his headache, but it did make him wonder if the universe was playing some elaborate joke at his expense.

"Fun? This?" he shot back, gesturing wildly to the room. Books were scattered across the floor, random objects you’d somehow decided were yours cluttered every surface, and the whole space felt like it had been turned into your personal domain of disorder, "If this is your idea of fun, I don’t even want to imagine what you’d consider a total disaster!"

Wanderer’s lips curled even further, a light yet equally heavy laugh escaping him, "Well, you could always take notes. You’re already halfway there."

He gave Kaveh a long, appraising look, his eyes flashing with a mix of mild amusement and something resembling skepticism. Kaveh stood his ground, still bristling with frustration, but there was a strange, unwavering conviction in his posture. While he didn’t seem to be particularly impressed by the show of defiance, but there was something in his gaze—a flicker of reluctant respect. It wasn’t approval, Kaveh knew, but it was something. Perhaps Wanderer had expected him to fold under the pressure, to back down in the face of the power difference between them all, but Kaveh wasn’t that easily swayed. Without a word, Wanderer gave a dismissive wave, his hat tipped once and his cloak swirling as he turned to leave. The faintest remnants of anemo stirred around his feet as he moved, but he didn’t look back. His visit, brief yet harsh just as the winds he uses, hung in the air, almost an afterthought. The door closed quietly behind him, leaving Kaveh alone once again.

Kaveh exhaled slowly, tension seeping from his shoulders, and for a brief moment, the weight of the situation lifted. The main source of concern had left, but there was a strange sense of having passed some kind of unspoken test. He didn’t know what Wanderer had seen, if anything at all, but Kaveh felt... a little more resolved. Even if Wanderer thought he was making a mistake, Kaveh had decided. He was going to handle this. He would handle it, somehow.

He glanced around his room, still a mess, still a monument to his questionable decisions. But it was his responsibility, and no amount of judgment was going to change that.

“Is he always this warm and fuzzy? Must be fun at parties.”

And he already spoke too soon.

You had been silent for what felt like an eternity, tucked away in the corner like a quiet spectator to the whole scene. The back-and-forth between Kaveh and Wanderer had been something to behold, the tension so thick you could almost taste it in the air. You had sat there, content to watch, half-amused by the spectacle and half-interested in how Kaveh would handle it. The way his frustration simmered, the way Wanderer barely seemed to care—it was all too entertaining. But now, the storm had passed. The tension had broken, and the silence in the room had settled into a comfortable lull. You could almost feel the scene winding down like a well-performed act. So, as the sound of Wanderer's footsteps faded, you finally pushed yourself up from the corner, stretching leisurely, and let a sly, mischievous grin spread across your face. The playful glint in your eyes returned, a clear signal that you were about to add your own touch to the show.

“You two have a weird vibe,” you remarked, still stretched out lazily on the floor, your posture an unholy mix of casual indifference and quiet mischief, “Are all your friends this charming?”

Kaveh gave you an exasperated glance, a thin line between his brows deepening as he muttered under his breath, “Not a friend. We're barely acquaintances.”

The words hung in the air, but you hardly noticed the growing tension. It only seemed to entertain you more. The silence between the two of you stretched for a few moments, thick and palpable until you broke it once again—oblivious to the discomfort you were causing. You propped yourself up on one elbow, looking over at Kaveh with a grin that was equal parts mischievous and playful.

“You’re a good guy, Kaveh. I think I might stick around longer,” you said, voice light and teasing, though there was an edge of sincerity buried under your usual nonchalance. However, in spite of your sincerity, Kaveh’s eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line as if trying to will your words away.

“Not a chance,” he shot down bluntly, his tone more biting now, though the faintest trace of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, “This isn’t permanent.”

You let his words slide right off, your grin only growing wider, a silent challenge in your eyes. With a lazy flick of your tail, you topple the lamp that Kaveh had sent you too many warning glances at, completely unbothered. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

---

Hi, thank you for reading! I couldn't explore the full lore of this reader, but if you're interested in knowing more, please reach out to the original creator: @thezboss

[mhevarujta]

Lily Rose Depp said it for example: “It was clear to me from the beginning, and from what Rob [Eggers] was saying to me, it’s a love story with Count Orlok as much as it is with her husband. There’s a real love triangle there. “

I don’t have problems with love triangles with vampires or with Ellen loving Orlok, even if it’s fucked up. I have problems with how they executed it in the movie itself. Would people get this idea that Ellen loved Orlok or really wanted him or if there was real love triangle going on if they didn’t read piles of interviews from cast and crew and need to constantly refer to them? Movie itself needed to show it. Perhaps, Eggers simply can’t write gothic romances and really thought he was doing something, but it didn’t translate to screen. His WH comparison did him no favours, by inviting comparisons between Heathcliff and Orlok considering how bland and flat Orlok is as character. But Eggers really thought he was doing some deep comparison.

It's a love triangle because Ellen's desire lies with Orlok, not with Thomas.

IF his intention was to show love between Orlok and Ellen, Eggers fails. I DO think that Eggers' comments about Wuthering Heights only translate on screen very superficially in terms of Ellen being torn between what would exile her from society and between what makes her a part of it. But if we look at them as anything more than that, they'd only show that he doesn't have a good grasp of either Heathcliff or Catherine's characters, both of whom are miles away from Orlok and Ellen as individuals: To put it very superficially Orlok lacks Heathcliff's humanity, Ellen does not have Catherine's selfishness and overall, the lack of any emotional depth in their relationship aside, Ellen x Orlok don't even balance each other out as individuals in my opinion. Also, Heathcliff lives and breathes on love and spite, but as long as Catherine is still really fond of someone he would not unleash his cruelty upon them to its full extent, and this makes for some absolutely fascinating dynamics throughout Wuthering Heights. On the other hand Orlok is devoid of any of Heathcliff's complexity. He's paper-thin. He works as a symbol for the individual and the collective shadow, sure, and that's the most interesting part of his character, but he doesn't work in a straight-forward manner.

Nevertheless, I'd like to give Eggers the benefit of the doubt, in that he chose to be inspired by WH without replicating it. Because to be frank I think that, despite his comparison, if he intended for a genuine love to exist between Orlok and Ellen he wouldn't have actively deleted all the aspects that showed tenderness or even confidence on Ellen's part from the 2016 script. All the mentions of Ellen 'gently' touching him? Gone. The 'lovingly' when she brings him back to her? Gone. Ellen feeling "calm and confident in a way she has never been before?" Gone. The emphasis on Ellen being 'finally fulfilled'? Gone. Instead there are things that are added. Like a completely different direction for Ellen and Thomas' relationship, a last look of love between them even as Ellen lies with Orlok, the emphasis on Ellen's moment of reckoning and victory.

Moreover, despite Depp's talk about a love story, it's Eggers himself who has mentioned that the nature of Ellen and Orlok's dynamic is about obsession and not love. He has also acknowledged the existing rape and that Orlok is an abuser. So I think that it's really interesting when people who saw this movie with shipping goggles on are trying to say that Ellen was ONLY abused by her society, that these elements were not there and that other viewers are making them up because they didn't get what the movie was about or don't understand the genre. Ellen was a victim of the vampire and of society both, and that's part of her tragedy.

[jacky-rubou]

Planning to write an essay on the limited Ford and Mabel bonding in the show and well, I thought of approaching you if you have any pointers. Especially dispelling any misconceptions by the fandom whether Ford overlooked Mabel or the bond she shared with her brother.

I think the main misconception I see is that Ford didn't care about Mabel at all in comparison to Dipper. Or, in some ridiculously extreme cases, that he hates her.

People forget that Mabel was the first twin he interacted with, and it was largely positive. Ford laughed and said he liked her when she stated that his six fingered handshake was one finger friendlier than normal.

The Last Mabelcorn being the episode where Ford interacted with Mabel the most gives a big insight into how he feels about her. First, he agreed with Mabel when she stated she was probably the most pure of heart in the room (i forget the exact phrasing but same difference). He trusted her with the unicorn mission, even knowing that the unicorns were difficult. And last of all, he directly tells her that she is a good person without even knowing the struggle she went through with her morality moments prior.

Dipper and Mabel vs The Future is contentious in this regard, fans often using it as proof that Ford doesn't care about Mabel just because he asked Dipper to stay in Gravity Falls. But honestly, Ford cared enough to observe Mabel's social skills with the pizza delivery guy, plus probably witnessing plenty of instances of Mabel handling herself without Dipper's help. He genuinely believed that Mabel could handle being without her brother outside of the summers.

Plus, it isn't like Mabel was forthright about her feelings about leaving Gravity Falls and growing up until she blew up at the end of the episode. Obviously there are things to be said about Ford taking Dipper on as an apprenticeship being a good or a bad idea depending on who you ask, but Ford didn't know how badly Mabel would take it. He thought he was doing Dipper a favor by giving him a head start on his studies and, as I previously mentioned, that Mabel would be fine at home. That the two could reach a compromise if needed.

Ford isn't perfect though, he does tend to project himself onto Dipper after finding out how similar he thinks he is to him. That might've affected how often he spends with either twin or how he saw their bond, but to say that he doesn't care about Mabel at all is simply misguided. He cares about them both so much. His traumatic experience with his own twin just tainted how he saw the twins' bond being something that could be potentially suffocating. He does sorta have a point though, Dipper and Mabel can't force each other to stay glued at the hip forever or it could potentially stifle their individual dreams if handled badly. But that's just my 'controversial' opinion right there i guess, so take it with a grain of salt if you wish.

And besides, if we were gonna get upset at Ford for favoring Dipper over Mabel, you might as well also get upset at Stan for favoring Mabel over Dipper in some honestly worse ways than Ford ever did to Mabel. Stan literally projected his father's abusive ways onto Dipper and justified being hard on him with 'toughening him up'. Not to mention how he made Dipper the butt of his jokes so often it drove Dipper to seek out time with Ford over him because Ford never made fun of him like that. Obviously Stan does care about Dipper too, but the double standards in this fandom when it comes to how the grunkles treat the twins is honestly flabbergasting. Neither grunkle is perfect in how they handle the twins, neither are 'better' in their methods, and I think that's the point.

it doesn't help that Ford doesn't get a lot of screentime compared to Stan, as i'm sure you're already aware.

anyway, if you have any more questions, feel free to let me know. hope this was a good insight into all this Ford and Mabel business.

[supernatural-bias]

okay calling onto the masses for this one. so you know how crowley calls sam moose and dean squirrel? i'm trying to think of what he would call ezra in turn. tried researching animals with marking on their faces since it seems like something crowley would resort to, but nothing stuck. any ideas?