#I’m so tired and I have work in the morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

antizenin · 24 hours ago

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𑁤 NO GOOD NIGHT'S REST ⋮ NANAMI KENTO

nanami can't have a good night's rest with a wife like you. you say it's for him, to take care of him & his needs, but he knows his wife so well and how much you love him sleeping nearly nude.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, nanami kento, sexually mature | minors, ageless and blank blogs: do not interact & 4.7k words !

➛ salaryman!nanami kento & housewife!reader (she/her), consensual somnophilia, rimjob, dry humping, premature cumming, handjob, blowjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, not proofread.

The moment that Nanami takes a step into the house, the khaki trench coat that was draped around his hand is thrown towards the coat rack on the left corner absentmindedly hanging up his keys in the process. The dark brown briefcase is dropped next to the door for you to move somewhere else. He kicks off his dark brown leather shoes, shoving them off into their allotted corner where you’ve begged him plenty of times to do before. Now, he listens, your voice playing in the back of his exhausted mind.

He can smell the aroma of whatever dish you’ve made tonight still lingers despite the clock trickling closer to half past twelve. You’re not in his sights like you usually are— always waiting up for him in the wee hours of morning no matter what— as he’s making a beeline towards the wooden staircase and trudging up the steps.

“Honey, where are you?” he calls out. His voice isn’t loud, but you surprisingly hear it all the way up there as you speak from outside your crafting room. You had finished all the household duties, managing to finish dinner just in time to allow yourself a period of leisure. This was the one place you allowed yourself to make a mess and care about it some other time.

“I’m in here!” you call out, seeing his figure getting closer as he rises from up the stairs. You can see it evident in him. Work has surely drained him tonight, especially at a time like this. You’ve had yourself so transfixed on this crochet project that you didn’t even realize the time yourself, it only hitting you the moment you let out a loud yawn. Despite his own exhaustion, Nanami can’t help but be amused at you. How you’re always so adamant on waiting for him even with his protests not to. You still have whatever craft you have in hand, seeming to be making a sweater that’s surely taking up your time.

“Look at you,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you into his arms. “You’re tired.”

“Says you,” you poke into his chest, giggling softly before another yawn escapes you. “You’re the man working hard at work twenty-four-seven, leaving your dear wife alone all the time. You’re exhausted, baby.”

You come to cup his face, eyes widening as you pull off his green-tinted spectacles. You can see the purple eye bags underneath as you pout, your thumb running down his cheek as you frown. “Let me go run you a bath.”

“No,” he stops you from leaving, grabbing back at your wrist to pull you close into his chest again. “I’m gonna shower. Don’t want to fall asleep in the tub.”

His hands dip to fall on the small of your back before traversing to your ass, grabbing a handful of it as he smirks. “How about you—” he speaks low, his lips meeting that one spot on your neck, his blonde hair touching your skin. “—get yourself changed into that nightgown I like and I meet you in bed, hm?”

You giggle, nodding your head. You finally leave his hold, but not before planting a chaste kiss on his lips as he lets you lead the way to your shared bedroom. When you open the door, he lets out a deep sigh as he saunters into the bathroom, flickering on the bathroom lights as you do in the bedroom. The deep grumble of your drawers sound as you pull out a short nightgown, a skimpy little laced dress that does nothing to hide your body from your husband. You pull off your t-shirt, an old band tee that you got back in high school. It amazes you how you still manage to fit in at the age of thirty. You’ve gained a healthy amount of weight, where you’d think you would have to get rid of it by now. But then again, it was a baggy on you at seventeen, where it now hugs you.

You kick off your shorts as well, feeling the breeze of the air conditioner hit your bare skin as you stand in near nude, your panties being the only thing to cover you. Pulling on the nightgown, the spaghetti straps have a habit of slipping off of you and revealing your cleavage. It stops down just below your ass, giving Nanami the perfect view of it whenever you move. It’s his favorite color on you, a sage green that always has his breath hitching and thinking how he’s such a lucky man to have you.

You remember why you always wait for Nanami with something in your hand to occupy you, because the moment you hit the bed, your exhaustion betrays you and you always manage to fall asleep before he can join you. This has happened plenty for you to learn your lesson, but you think this has always been his plan because the moment he comes out of the shower to see your slumbering body, he chuckles to himself. The sheets are barely covering your upper body, giving him the perfect view of your breasts and how they’re close to spilling out.

His chest glistens as he steps out the bathroom, the steam escaping as it’s fogged up the mirrors inside. He continues drying off the excess water that he’s missed, taking careful steps as he shudders at the presence of the cold air. He reaches for the underwear drawer, opening it gently so it doesn’t disturb your sleep. He pulls out a pair of boxer briefs before disregarding his towel to be thrown down the back of a chair. Stepping inside of it, he goes to shut off the lights and crawl inside the bed next to you.

He’s careful when pulling your sleeping body close to him, arms wrapping around your figure and holding you snug against his bare chest. Silently his hands wander, feeling the soft fats of your chest as they momentarily ghost around your nipple, the next hand wandering deep under your sexual sleepwear. He goes to cup your covered mound, something that he’s grown a habit of, the feeling of your heat providing a sense of comfort as you shuffle in his embrace. “Kento?”

“Shhh, my darling,” he hushes you and finally closes his eyes. “Go back to sleep.”

And you don’t argue with him, his words sending you right back into that place of darkness. Though, it feels more light now that you’re in his arms. You hum, “M’kay…”

—

You wake up in the next hour and a half, groggy but no longer in the warmth of Nanami’s arms. You think that maybe he left you, also waking up to whatever force that drove you out of your slumber, but when you push yourself up on the bed, he’s lying flat on his stomach, his face away from you. The covers aren’t around him, forced to take in the absolute freezing temperatures while you’ve hogged the sheets all to yourself. The moon from outside your window shines onto him, the expanse of his back glistening in its light. How his back muscles flex as his chest rises and falls, ever so slightly jumping from time to time due to whatever he’s dreaming about.

His boxer briefs hug at his ass perfectly, his legs thrown across the bed so haphazardly, one bent upwards as the next is close to teetering off the edge. It gives you the perfect view of his covered bulge pressing into the dark sheets that cover the mattress, the navy blue crinkled under both of your weight. His hair dances messily under the air while yours is covered underneath your bonnet, his soft snores silently echoing inside the room. A heat escapes you, a pool of arousal that sticks to your panties as you push yourself up even more to sit straight. Absent-mindedly, your hand travels down his back, gently so as to not wake him up before they land on the hem of his underwear. Your next hand goes to cup your cunt, pressing your fingers into the heat as you clench around nothing, feeling the dampness that’s there and to come. But it’s just that, simply cupping yourself to move your hands to Nanami’s bulge, pressing your fingers down against his balls and feeling how he immediately reacts to you. An intake of a breath before he’s back to his regular slumber. You run your hands down the expanse of behind to his ankles and it’s as if though his body has grown accustomed to you, his body still laying down pliant on the bed fast asleep. Only when your hands are back against his balls does he respond.

He’s always been a heavy sleeper, sleeping through the midst of construction outside your bedroom window and the heavy, thundering rain. It makes it all so much fun to test the waters, to see when his body will respond and send a signal to his brain to wake up. To tell him, your wife is touching you again.

You mess with the band of his underwear, something you’ve always struggled with. You tuck your index and middle finger underneath the band, tugging it down on your left side to reveal an inch more of skin. You do the same with the right before you feel Nanami move and shift. You pause as you watch him shuffle with pure adoration and love. You coo when he returns back to sleeping soundly and steadily, but because of his shifting, you’re right back at square one. And you find yourself cursing at the very man you were just cooing at.

You hold a tight grip on the bands once more before doing your habitual shimmy of his underwear, this time around proving to be easier than the rest, it feels. You manage to get it down from the hardest part, where Nanami usually wakes when he feels the fabric of his underwear sliding down over his cock and being startled awake. How he’d chuckle softly before turning around to pull you on top of him and announce how you’re such a sneaky and devious little wife before helping you out and removing it all on his own.

You feel triumphant finally, feeling his still body in his sleeping state as you drag down the boxer briefs to pool at his feet before disregarding it somewhere on the ground. Now in complete nude, his balls hang heavy as his cock springers underneath. A tinted shaft with a pink tip that’s slightly hard under your ministrations.

You rut your hips down on the bed at how the tip of his cock glistens in the moonlight, a soft moan leaving you before you’re fixing yourself in between Nanami’s legs. You’re gentle when you push them open further before feeling the hard skin of his ass, giving them a nice massage before you’re spreading them apart. His asshole is all puckered and dry, ready for the taking when you bend to let your saliva pool inside your mouth and let it dribble down your tongue into the crevice of his ass.

The string of spit landing with precision as a pebble still sticks to you unwavering. You lick the bottom of your lip, it flashing away as you play in your mess, two fingers that go to rub at his tight hole. A ceremonious moan leaving your lips as you hum in delight. And he feels it all within his sleep, it registering as a wet dream to him, what you’re doing to him. On this very same bed with you towering over him while he’s on his stomach, though he’s awake in it. It feels so real, the way your hand travels down his back and taking your sweet and precious time as you tell him just how much you love him and how you devote your very existence to him. How you coo how blessed you are to have such a husband like him that takes care of you and how you need to give back to him in the best way you can. Not with the cooking and cleaning, not with the gifts you make him on his birthday and holidays or just because. No, with having him underneath you and for the taking, focusing on solely his pleasure and his desires.

Every action mimics the real world and his mind is telling him to wake up the closer your lips approach his puckered asshole, telling him that this is real. That it’s all real. But he wants to delve in his dreams a little longer just in case it’s not. His hips rutting into the bed just as he does in real life. He’s groaning out your name in his sleep as his cock hardens even more when your breasts press against them during your actions. They stimulate even further, feeling the skin to skin contact as your tongue makes his asshole shine. Long stripes that get swept away by the cold air only to be placed again once more.

In his dreams, you’re wearing a long dress that closely mirrors your nightgown. The same sage green color that he absolutely adores on you. And somehow, it makes it all the hotter, making a mental note to himself to buy you one that closely replicates it once he wakes in the morning— if he doesn’t wake up sooner. Your hair is long, braids that drop to your waist and push out of your face as you devour him. Your eyes are glossy and bright, reflecting the love that they’re filled with. The bed lies in the middle of an uncharted beach, providing you privacy despite being outside in the open. The sun shines bright down on his back, beating it with its heat that would surely burn him if this was real.

Palm trees and clear sands while the waters are blue and vibrant in the color. He moans in his dream world as well as the real, letting you know that you’re accomplishing your goals. The more you salivate, the sloppier it gets, your tongue diving deep into his ass as it soon creates a wet sound. He rubs his cock into the sheets of the bed, soon feeling it twitch. Nanami croaks out a groan as he feels his cock about to empty itself into the sheets. However, you’re uncaring as your eyes are open and watching him from above and seeing how his face turns to the side twists and contorts. He shudders, a switch finally flickering inside and beckoning his eyes to open.

When they flutter open, he can feel it. Your fingers on his legs, nails digging into his flesh gently as your tongue is all lulled out. Even in his groggy state he can just envision you, laying down on your tummy as your hips roll into the bed, your pussy leaking your juices as you find pleasure in granting him his. However, it’s dark out and when he peeks out the window, the moon is full and bright against their window. His moan is deeper than it was before, louder as his groggy state soon dissipates at the pleasure that coincides. He feels a wet patch beneath him and atop, letting him know that this was all very real.

You register that your husband’s awake when you feel movement of his leg, making you pull away as you watch him shuffle to his back. Eyes that are still heavy and evident with exhaustion, but riddled with lust. His cock comes to lean against his abdomen, his blonde happy trail providing a cushion as the excess of his cum dribbles down his shaft and inside his pubes. He’s impressed. To have made him cum without waking him up? It’s the best you’ve ever done, and quickly makes him envision the future.

“You’ve gotten my underwear off,” his voice getting deeper than it usually is. “I must’ve been extremely tired.”

He motions you up, to come closer to his lips and you obey, smiling triumphantly as you crawl and hover over his body. You plant your hips down for your covered pussy to sit on his cock, hearing a guttural groan leave him before his lips are on yours. You kiss him, grinding your hips down on his open erection and mewl into his mouth. “Or, I must be getting better.”

Nanami smirks. “We’ll see next time.”

You’re about to travel back down to his length when Nanami’s hands find your hips, keeping you in place. His eyes hold a question, one that’s asking you for another kiss. And you’re so giving, so willing to give him what he wants, your soft and supple lips on your husband’s. He moans into it, loving the taste of him on you. His chest vibrates as he grounds you against his length and you know where this leads, playing this game too many times before. You push against his chest, whining out, “no.”

“Why not?” he frowns, eyebrows furrowing. “I want to be inside you.”

“And you get to be inside me,” you smile, your nose scrunching up cutely as you know what he means. He gives you a deadpanned look, fingering digging into your flesh to pull you flush against him. “You know what I want.”

“And you know what I want,” you whisper back, staring into his brown eyes as the two of you have a silent battle. Typically, you’re the one who relents, letting Nanami have his way with your body and battering away with your pussy. However, not tonight, your eyes plead with him unrelenting as you bat your eyelashes and adjust the bonnet on your head. Your eyes threaten to prickle with tears as you ground your hips further, a tremor in your voice as you feel a deep need inside of you. “Kento,” you breathe. “Pl–please…”

He breaks eye contact, letting go of you as you cheer at your victory. Nanami grunts as he watches you travel back in between his legs. “Don’t take it too far. You’ll get a slack jaw.”

“I know when enough’s enough,” you shoot him a glare. However, Nanami chortles, “Sure you do, love.”

You don’t bother arguing with him on that. You could threaten to leave him with blue balls, but that’ll leave you with a disadvantage as well as your pussy aches. Reaching for his cock, you grab it at the base, feeling how it’s hardened again all for you. You find yourself appeased that your husband finds his solace all in you, how you can still make him feel good despite the years that have gone by. That when he’s late at work, it’s exactly as he says. The two of you know friends that have succumbed to infidelity, not being able to handle the hours outside of each other and giving into the temptation and lust for someone else.

People have wished it upon the two of you before, saying that at some point Nanami doesn’t want to wait until he clocks out and will find a fine dime at a bar, and that you’ll get tired of waiting for him. And you don’t know if it’s the spite the two of you share when people dared to utter those words or if it's your combined love, but something remains stubborn within you two to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Feeling your grip around his length tightening has his body tensing up as it fills with anticipation. You rub a consoling hand into his inner thighs so that you don’t have to utter a single word. Beautiful eyes that look up to him, silently asking if he's okay. With a simple nod, he watches as you continue. Nanami’s been your everything, your first love, your first kiss, the first man you’ve slept with and explored sex with. He’s your everything.

You remember the moment of first feeling his cock in your hand, how it twitched and moved and how you squealed in pure amazement that he could move it. Your innocence was a beauty to behold in the palm of his hands. And while you weren’t his first, you made it feel like he was starting all over him. Like he had been baptized and born a new man within your presence.

A string of saliva drips from your tongue once more to smear around his tip pebbling down as your hand moves up to lubricate his length further. The excess drops of cum get gathered in the fist you’ve made around him, your thumb pressing into his tip as you draw circles into it. Tantalizingly slow, you tease the man who watches you. You’re on your knees, ass in the air as your dress falls over to reveal your mound and the wet patch in your panties. You’re only getting wetter as your mouth waters.

His cock always excites you, no matter where it’ll be. However, you always love to have him inside your mouth, feeling how you can fit all of him inside you and how it twitches when he gets close. And when he cums, the quick spurts that land in the back of your throat. How you used to gag and garble, but have come to swallow with ease as one stray tear leaves your right eye. Your hand moves languidly around his length. Up and down, up and down at a moderate pace as you’ve always taken your time.

Your next hand would always find its way to his balls, cupping them and fondling them as though they were stress balls asking to be played with. Nanami’s forced himself to get it together whenever you find yourself in between his legs like this, always tensing up his body and throwing his head back at the vixen you’ve made yourself to be. You love to see his undoing, always saying to see how it’s a sight to behold and the gods would love to have his moment of bliss captured on a canvas. Your eyes would twinkle as it does now, watching how his how dick would get wet with precum and how the sounds would echo in the room.

He curses under his breath, calling out your name and nothing more. He never begs, but you know the utterance of your name is just enough to ask you. He does so now with you jerking him off.

“(Y/N)...” Before a wanton moan falls from his lips. His eyes are shut as he feels his legs tense, head falling back into the pillows, his hands reach for your wrist, pulling you closer. His cock twitches in your hand, white spurts shooting out from his tip, landing to his chest and pooling between your thumb and index finger. A dragged out moan falls from him as he wants nothing more than to pull you right next to him. To spoon you as he fucks you from behind, but he knows you’ll have none of that.

He feels the heat of your body against his lower body as he catches his breath, eyes opening back up to see your tongue ready to clean him. Fuck, he curses as your tongue touches his belly, swiping up his seed with one lick. Your eyes flushed with lust as you looked back at him and shimmy down further. His cock still in your hand, and still messy with his release. But you’ve always been great at cleaning, licking at your hand, too, before planting a chaste kiss on his head. Your pink muscle swirling around the tiny slit, overstimulating your husband as it’s bound to grow sensitive. However, he’s still hard in your hand, wanting more.

You moan out, hand returning back to the base of his cock as you lick up a stripe. Sucking his balls into his mouth before letting them go with a pop. It’s enough to have him cream himself for the third time tonight. Your lips pucker up, wrapping around the base as your head’s turned to the side. Your hums send a vibration throughout his body and his legs tense and dare to kick out at you. His face heats up as he’s held his breath unconsciously for quite some time. Exhaling heavily, he exclaims, “My god, (Y/N)!”

You continue at that one spot before you’re right back around his tip, suck incessantly at it in a desperate need for him. Your mouth puckers into an ‘O’ as you watch your husband’s face twist and contort at your actions, hips bucking up into your face as his tip enters your mouth, needing to feel him entirely inside of it. Your hands rest on his thighs, running your hands up and down it as you bob your head shallowly around it. Cheeks hollowing out as you still for a moment, basking of the feeling of his tip pressed on the roof of your mouth. To think you were once an experienced girl that was once apprehensive about his size. It’s become a distant and vague memory in the back of Nanami’s mind, only brought up in these moments.

How you salivate around his cock, growing extremely wet around him as if he were in your pussy. How your hips jut out in a visceral need for him, but your mouth refuses to leave his length. How you slurp and suck around his girth as he tries to hold himself together because you’re a fiend around him. How you have him so weak in the knees that he can only just take it, take what you give him. How your head bobs up and down his length so beautifully like a pro— like you’ve done this for years.

From that time period of growth, seeing how you’ve become so comfortable in your sexuality, unashamed to say just how good you make your man— your husband feel— Nanami never would’ve guessed that you were that same girl all those years ago. You always have his vision blurred when his orgasm hits him again, just like now. His legs weaken as he feels cock jolt inside of your mouth. Your heart rate picks up in delight as you bring yourself to suck just around the tip, cheeks hollowing even more just like a vacuum and pushing him over the edge. You’d press against his balls, a finishing move of yours that has him seeing white as he’d cum one last time for the night.

He’d shoot out on your tongue, his release more translucent and less thick as you’d like, but that’s your fault for making him so spent. It takes Nanami some time to return to reality, to register your hands that’s landed in his hand and asking him if he’s alright. You’ve got him under a dizzy spell, his brown eyes searching for yours and for a moment you’re frightened.

“Oh no,” you gasp. “Did I work you too much, Kento?”

He shakes his head, eyes shutting as a smile reaches the corner of his lips. “No, love. You never do.”

“Good,” you sigh, crawling under the sheets and draping them over Nanami’s naked figure. He chuckles, catching your attention as you snuggle into his chest. You quirk an eyebrow up in curiosity. “What?”

“Didn’t expect you to end it so soon,” he admits. “Thought I’d have to pry you off of me.”

“Not when you gave me quite the scare,” you push at his chest before your eyes light up, hands reaching to cup his softening length in hopes to make it hard again. “But, are you saying that you want to keep going?”

Nanami chuckles, reaching to kiss your temple. “What am I going to do with you— a wife who won’t let me get any good night’s rest?”

“But don’t they say—” you knit your eyebrows together in faux pondering before meeting your husband’s eyes “—good pussy puts a man to sleep?”

Before you know it, Nanami’s reaching for your waist and forcing you on your back. You squeal at the sudden change of position, giggling into his chest and rubbing the expanse of it. He hums in the crook of your neck, laughing at your question. “Not when he’s had none.”

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hellobykittys · 15 hours ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.𝐈𝐈 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 1.9k WARNING: teasing, fake relationship

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The next morning, Charles was already regretting it. Or maybe just annoyed. Or both. He hadn’t decided yet. The truth was, the plan had started before he was even awake.

“Did you like her photo?” Lorenzo asked, barging into the room without knocking.

“Good morning to you too,” Charles replied, throwing a pillow at his brother.

“Charles, I’m serious. Did you?”

“Which photo? She posts like fifty a day.”

Lorenzo sighed and handed his phone to his brother. On the screen, Y/N’s latest post glowed—a seemingly casual photo but so flawlessly composed it was impossible not to notice the meticulous planning behind it.

“Liked it yet?” Lorenzo pressed, pointing at the heart button.

Charles mumbled something unintelligible but tapped the button anyway.

“There. Done. Now let me sleep.”

But it wasn’t done. The second his like went live, the internet worked its obsessive magic. Gossip accounts picked up on the move almost immediately. “Charles Leclerc likes Y/N’s photo. Coincidence or something more?”

Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N was sitting in a chic café, laughing quietly as her phone blew up with notifications.

“They’re fast, huh?” she commented to her best friend, Clara, who was rolling her eyes as she stirred her cappuccino.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” Clara asked, sounding a little skeptical.

“It’s not about enjoying it. It’s a job.” Y/N shrugged, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Charles was never a fan of hosting dinners at home. He was more of a fine-dining restaurant kind of guy—or, when no one was looking, fast food in his car. But tonight, his apartment had turned into Sofia’s mission control.

He opened the door still in sweatpants, his hair a mess, and looking just a little tired.

“You look like a teenager,” was the first thing Y/N said as she walked in, holding a bag of desserts.

“And you always look ready for a runway,” he shot back, taking in her flawless outfit: skinny jeans, a white cropped tee, and sneakers—casual but calculated.

“Thanks. I practice.”

She waltzed in, ditching her shoes near the door and taking in the space. His apartment was minimalist but not soulless. Trophies were scattered across a shelf, abstract art he clearly didn’t choose hung on the walls, and a big couch dominated the living room, probably the epicenter of his social life.

“Do you actually live here? I expected it to be… messier,” she remarked, flopping onto the couch.

“If it were messier, you’d complain. If it were tidier, you’d say it’s fake. So, please, tell me the exact level of chaos that would make you happy.”

“You’re starting to figure me out,” she said with a laugh.

The dinner, as it turned out, was delivery that took so long to arrive they were already brainstorming the next steps of the plan before eating. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open and notes scattered across the coffee table.

“Okay, we need something for the first public appearance. Nothing too obvious, but not so subtle that people miss the point.”

Charles, slouched on the couch, watched as she spoke, distracted by the businesslike tone she used.

“Do you talk this seriously all the time, or is it just when you’re in work mode?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“This is serious, Leclerc,” she replied without looking up. “If you want to salvage your reputation, you’re going to have to trust me.”

He sighed, knowing she was right.

“Our first appearance could be next week, just before the Monaco race weekend. We could stroll around the streets in your car or stop at a café,” she suggested. “It’ll look casual, but everyone will notice.”

“What if we just let the rumors do their thing?” he tried.

“Because that would be too easy for you.” Y/N finally looked up. “You need to give people a reason to believe this story. And I’m very convincing.”

At that moment, the delivery arrived. Charles went to grab it while Y/N rearranged the table to make it look casually perfect.

“Let’s start small,” she said, stretching her arm out to snap a photo. He watched as she worked, following her directions like a puppet.

“This will drive people crazy,” she commented, showing him the image before posting it.

The picture showed Charles’s hand holding a wine glass and part of his torso. On the table between them sat two pizzas.

Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re good at this, I’ll admit.”

“Not just good—excellent,” she corrected.

As they ate, the tension between them grew more noticeable. While they discussed details like when she’d start appearing in the paddock, the teasing didn’t stop.

“Do you think people will actually believe I fell for you?” he asked, smirking.

“If I can pretend to find you interesting, people can believe anything,” she shot back, taking a bite of pizza.

He laughed. “Interesting? I thought you were having fun.”

“I’m a great actress,” she said, giving him a playful wink.

“Now we need more pictures,” Y/N said after a while, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Something a bit more… intimate.”

“More?” Charles sighed, clearly exhausted. “Wasn’t that last one enough?”

“Of course not! People need to believe we’re in love. Think of something subtle: holding hands, your hand on my thigh… something like that.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile immediately forming on his lips. “For someone who made the ‘no touching’ rule, you seem pretty eager for this. Trying to relive that night at the club?”

The comment was bold, but Y/N didn’t even blink. She simply stared at him for a moment, her calm almost irritating, before replying, “What night, Leclerc? You must be confusing me with one of your dreams.”

He chuckled, but there was something about the way she brushed off the topic that left him unsettled. After all, she had walked out that night without a word, pretending like nothing had happened. And it still nagged at him.

Unbothered, Y/N stood up and moved to the couch behind them, sitting like someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“Come here. You need to sit next to me,” she ordered, patting the spot beside her on the couch.

Charles raised an eyebrow but stood up, following her instructions without protest. “What do I need to do now, boss?”

Y/N firmly took his hand and placed it on her thigh. With her other hand, she adjusted her phone’s camera.

“You just need to sit still,” she said, winking at him before snapping the picture. “Look, it turned out so cute!”

She showed him the result, a satisfied smile lighting up her face.

He glanced at the photo, then back at her. “You seem pretty excited about this. I’m starting to think I’m not the only one dreaming here.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, ignoring his comment as she went back to adjusting the photo’s filter. But Charles couldn’t help but notice: as much as she tried to stay in control, there was something in her eyes that hinted she might be enjoying this more than she let on.

Later, as they cleared the empty plates and went over the plan’s timeline, their eyes met. For a moment, silence filled the room. It wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

“Well, this was… productive,” Y/N said, breaking the tension as she stood up to grab her bag.

“‘Productive’ is one way to put it,” he replied, following her to the door.

Once she left, Charles collapsed onto the couch and grabbed his phone. The picture she had just posted was already blowing up with comments. He liked it quietly before tossing the phone onto the table.

At the media day press conference, Charles had already memorized the answers Sofia had prepared for him. When someone asked about his personal life, he replied with a cryptic smile:

“I’ve been spending more time at home, enjoying it with people I like.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was doing her part. During an Instagram live, someone asked,

“Do you like Formula 1?”

She smiled, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I didn’t think I did, but lately… I’ve been watching it more.”

tαglıst: @charlesgirl16 @sltwins

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you

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zepskies · 24 hours ago

Text

Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you?

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair.

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too!

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil.

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to—

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile.

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe.

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new.

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 2 days ago

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In honor of @littlepaws9's birthday, we will pretend the break-up never happened... this is very short and hopefully as fluffy as you like your BuckTommy ;)

............................................................................................................................

"I wanna take you out tomorrow," Buck breathes into Tommy's ear, half-hidden from the bedsheet.

The answer is a mere grunt, he takes it as approval.

"It's a nice restaurant," he continues to chatter, "a bit outside of town, not so fancy, pretty cozy, I think you'll like it."

Squinting, Tommy questions his pillow with a muffled, "Tomorrow’s New Year’s?"

"I've made the reservation a couple of months ago."

This confession seems to crack Tommy’s eyes finally open. He’s still wearing this adorable scrunched-up sleeping face, but Buck can tell something is working behind his brow. A couple of months ago, they almost broke up over a stupid argument, preceded by an evening at Miceli's. It was easy to guess that Buck – after their very hot reconciliation – had made a kind of vow for the future: never to go to that restaurant again, and to never leave anything to chance.

"Fine, but why are you telling me this at..." Tommy lifts his head briefly to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "six in the morning?"

"I've got a shift. And you live closer to Harbor than to the 118."

"Huh?"

"One of us has to get up early, sleepyhead," Buck says with a laugh, pressing a kiss on the fuzzy head sticking out of the sheets.

The restaurant really proved to be beautiful, far from all the chrome and glass that modern places in L.A. considered aesthetically pleasing. This special day seems to call for wine, so they settle for red. At the tables around them, only couples are to be seen. Buck finds Tommy to be unusually taciturn, and he starts to wonder why.

"You tired?" he asks, causing Tommy to look up in surprise from the salad he’s been pushing back and forth with his fork. "We can always have dessert at home, if you want."

He winks, and Tommy scrunches his face in his pretty little smile.

"I'd like that," he returns. "But that's not it."

Putting a hand on Buck’s, he softly explains, "New Year’s Eve is always so… charged. Everybody’s making vows and resolutions, and it’s become some kind of couple event, almost worse than Valentine’s." With a nod, he gestures to the guests around them.

"Too corny?" Buck offers.

"Hm, too many expectations," Tommy cautiously replies. "And... Sometimes you don't know how to fulfill them."

"Expectations," Buck echoes, pondering whatever this might mean. "Look, all I'm expecting is for you to sit there, enjoy your free meal and look at your handsome boyfriend."

"Oh, I can do that," Tommy says with a smirk, raising his glass.

"Totally cool if this isn't your holiday," Buck continues, a little more serious now. "Just wanna be with you, like... every day, you know?"

Tommy tilts his head and seems about to reply, but Buck quickly interrupts him.

"Don't freak out, because yeah, I do admit I'm a fan of holidays, any kind of them. And I… I brought you something. You can find that kitschy, be my guest to hide under the table, and I expect nothing in return, but…"

Suddenly, there’s a small box in his hand, and Tommy’s features slip.

"Evan," he breathes, a trail of disbelief in his voice. "We agreed on no presents."

"I said don't freak out! That was Christmas, by the way. And it’s not what it looks like."

With a sheepish smile, he opens the box. Inside lie two very discreet, very pretty silver ear studs in the shape of the letter E.

"Remember when I once asked you about your pierced ears? You said you got them in your youth but didn’t dare wearing any earrings because of your career choices. And, w…well. You're no longer in the closet. And I know that I'm not the reason for it, but... I'm the reason you admitted it to some of your old friends, and those are my friends too, and that's kind of a big deal somehow. I’m sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"It's embarrassing, especially after you’ve made it clear Christmas and New Year’s aren’t your … favorites."

"Well," Tommy stretches, reaching for one of his pockets, pulling out quite a similar little box.

"They’re not," he admits. "There’s a reason I like to volunteer for shifts on those days. Until… well, until you, Evan. I know I kinda chickened out of Christmas, just didn’t feel right to be with your family. You were so understanding, I felt bad. And it was obvious you had something planned for today. It’s adorable when you try to keep a secret. This wasn't exactly what I was expecting... well, that's a conversation for another day. And even if I don't particularly like the day, that doesn't change my affection for you, Evan. I've spent the last few days thinking about how I could show it to you. Pondering what you would like. And, uh... great minds think alike, I guess?"

He flicks open the box to reveal a set of small, silver ear studs. They look like tiny T’s.

"Cheesy, isn't it?" he says with a broad grin that can hardly hide the fact he’s about to burst out laughing.

"Pretty much," Evan laughs before blurting out, "I don't even have pierced ears, babe."

"I know a good tattoo artist."

"Oh, me too. You know what? We'll go there together. Ear piercings for me and a new tattoo for both of us."

"Bold, Evan. You better not get my name engraved, who knows if you’ll still want me next year?"

"Don't worry," Buck replies with a smile. "You're a keep, no doubt about that."

#happy birthday #writing #fanfiction #my fics #BuckTommy #BuckTommy fanfic #buck x tommy #Buck/Tommy #Evan Buckley #Tommy Kinard #kinley #tevan

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 2 days ago

Text

My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOODY EYES 🩸

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: This story contains nsfw content (descriptive blood, gore, etc.) as well as sexual content. Mentions may include violence, self harm, attempt to suicide, consumption of alcohol and blood, male and male sexual content, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, blood play, death, description of injuries, themes of major horror/psychological horror and also explores obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. The story will contain aspects of the show Vampire Diaries and the BTS Wings era.

>If you are sensitive to any of these themes please do not proceed with the story.<

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 • 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 >

Chapter One🩸

The night felt cooler then usual. That for Spring Villa was uncanny but nothing about this town was near close to normal, I felt breathless. Running through the woods with nothing but the full moon above me to light up the path between the tall trees, the cold air burned inside my lungs.

I couldn’t stop even if I wanted too, my feet seems to move on their own. I should hide, I knew that. His presence became more obvious as the sound of his footsteps behind me became louder and clearer.

Every breath I took.

Closer.

Every step away.

Closer.

Until I couldn’t breath anymore, falling miserable on the cold wet path of the night. I could hear him laughing behind me, his deep breathy chuckled bitterly echoed around me.

I needed to get up.

But I couldn’t. My body wasn’t mine, I couldn’t move even if I begged myself to.

Vision getting blurred the more I tried to breath but no air was coming to my lungs, until the horrified feeling of a cold hand closed around my neck turned me around.

I couldn’t see his face even when he was so close to me, all I could see was his red eyes staring at me as he took my last breath.

The loud beeping noise of my alarm woke me up abruptly, I was breathless completely covered in cold sweat once again. I looked over the small vintage silver clock over my nightstand, glad it was still early in the morning and I had more then enough time to get ready to work at the Spring Grill.

A sight left my lips once I was finally able to catch my breath, once again I had the same dream. By this time I should’ve become used to them, It has been years since I started having weird nightmares, every damn night. It became unbearable and at some point I had to go to the hospital once after waking up screaming, I don’t remember anything from that night just that the nightmares continued since then. I used to take pills to help me sleep and at first they helped but as time passed they simply stopped working and I was too tired to ask for more, because of my reputation the doctors could’ve locked me at the mental facility and feeling helpless I just stopped taking them, I gave up on trying to stop the nightmares. They won’t go away no matter what I do. What’s the point fighting?

The day had just started and I felt restless.

Tired from knowing exactly what would happen after I opened the door of my room and went downstairs, knowing exactly how my day is going to start and how is going to end. Every day is the same for me. I wished I could say something about it but there is nothing especial about my life in this town.

I was known for being the weird girl, psycho girl down the street with an alcoholic mother who every neighbor hates now.

I used to be someone just like everyone, I had dreams like every other girl in high school did and I wanted more from life than anyone else did. I was alive.

For years I tried so hard not to let my parents actions get the best of me but now I feel like I can’t bearly breathe, my mother drank all her emotions away with alcohol till the bottles are empty just like herself.

I’m no better then her. Hiding away my scars with a jacket so no one knows it. Not that they would care anyway.

Once I’m pleased with my appearance after getting ready, making sure to hide the dark circles under my eyes with make up. I hold on tight to the door before opening in a breath, immediately holding my breath as I walk down the corridor to the stairs. A sight of relief washes over me as I notices she’s still asleep in the couch as I walk over the door as quietly as possible.

Mom was passed out again and thankfully on the right time for me to leave unnoticed by her.

Another sight of relief leaves my lips as I could finally breath in the cold air of Spring Villa, it was not always that I could leave home without any trouble caused by my mother. I was always grateful when I could.

And for just this once I could actually smile. Even though I knew everything would crash down when I get home later at night. For now I let myself breath for once.

Making my way through the empty streets till I get to the Grill, it won’t be a long walk anyway. Spring Villa was not known for being a big city, you could walk pretty much all around here and you could never be late. Every place here was placed right next to it, especially the neighborhood that’s why you can’t keep secrets in his town. People are so noisy here.

The center of the city was much more busy today, more tourist must have come since Halloween is in two months now. The perfect time to spread the old reports about the city’s history of a serial killer. People are so empty it makes me sad for them, but in all honesty sadness is all you can find in this city.

Once I finally get to my destination I open the wooden doors to the Spring Grill immediately being embraced by its warm interior, making my way to the staff room quickly changing into the Grill apron marking my shift as I leave the staff room. Today I’ll be serving tables in the morning and later I’ll serve at the bar.

No one minds my presence here so I just embrace my own thoughts and begin my work.

For the entire day I’ve been working, I wished it lasted longer. Contradicting I know. Even though I was tired like hell and my feet hurt just as bad; Even though I could already feel sweat running down the back of my neck and my arms felt like jelly from holding heavy trays with food and drinks for hours, the thought of heaving to go back home was never a pleasant one for me.

My shift was almost done and I moved as slow as possible with no desire to go home I was still behind the bar in case any costumers come for a few drinks, it was night already yet the Grill was just as agitated as it was in the afternoon. People didn’t care for their safety anymore, they would stay up all night drinking at Spring Villa even though our little city was known for a serial killer case, all they wanted was something to gossip about anyway and here, it was the serial killer case still unsolved after years.

Quickly to my distraction a costumer just made his way to the bar, he sat on the barstool asking for a bottle of beer. I made my way to get it for him filling a cup with ice and putting in front of him as well as the opened bottle, he thanked me without looking my way throwing a few dollar bill over the bar to pay.

I simply took it. I wasn’t used to kindness in this place, no one here seemed to know what it meant anyway.

The sound of the ring above the door signs for more costumers and I immediately looked up to see who it might be, noticing the familiar faces as he also noticed me from further away.

My best friend.

He was the only one who knew who I was and still chose me to be his friend, Jungkook wasn’t like the people from Spring Villa. He had an energy around him that even from afar you could tell he was special. He wasn’t even from here. He shined wherever he was and always became the life of the party, his smiled was a punch in the stomach of everyone one from this city, a face that was a constant reminder of how different and full of life he was. The truth was no one knows we’re he comes from or any of his friends, not even me. I never bother to ask him too. I always assumed he could tell me whenever he felt ready for it and apart from that, there was nothing we didn’t know about each other.

I only knew a few of his guy friends, with Jungkook there were seven of them and they all lived together with the oldest of the group in his house. I never asked him what his friends did for a living or what they’d were here for as it wasn’t Jungkooks place to say anyway and we both hated gossip. I knew he wasn’t like the other people who only came here for the serial killer case and that was enough for me to not ask questions. I was closer with him and his friend Jimin, who’d usually hang around with us the most, the others were much busier and didn’t stick around us much so I haven’t meet them yet and bearly knew them.

Seeing him together with his friend Jimin and the white haired Hoseok was something for the eyes to see, from any distance you could tell they were not from this small city.

From the way they all dressed so sophisticated and the way they walk, talk, even breath to every detail on them you could tell they where perfect. No one here was at their level, people tended to do everything to keep it to themselves so it doesn’t call for unnecessary attention to themselves. I still remember when they first came here, everybody talked about them for three months and so many rumors began to rise about them. The boys kept things to themselves and only talked to a few people from town, so gossip about them were all over the town as soon as they stepped foot in here. It wasn’t like any other tourist who came to town, they came to stay and that made the rumors about them grow even more especially since they all looked anything from normal.

Hoseok was well know because of his white hair and the signature sunglasses he wore all the time, some said he was blind and some said he had devil eyes. People said all sorts of things about them for their looks and I honestly thought the people in this town were just being mean at this point, these people never seemed to have something to do and were always on someone else’s business. The few things I heard about Jimin was; how he was always out with a red haired man at night, always at the company of a woman or a men and by far he was the most popular with people.

Jungkook was the rumored bad boy, always up to something bad and some people spreed that he was in a gang, that he was a criminal and today we just laugh at that. I couldn’t even begin to imagine him as such rumors portrayed him.

I didn’t care much about it, after a few weeks talking with Jungkook he told me the oldest of his friends Jin was the son of one of the founders of Spring Villa and that’s way they came here, they were staying at his late fathers house the mansion on the other side of the city.

I was surprised no one know anything about the founders of Spring Villa - since gossip was their priority around. But people only talked about what they wanted and what they wanted to hear, even when it wasn’t true.

I watched as Jungkook parted ways with his friends who took one of the tables on a corner and make his way to the bar were I was, a smirk playing around his lips as he did so. He looked incredibly handsome tonight, like usual. He wore a black outfit, never a fan of colors as he would always tell me, a leather jacket over the long sleeve shirt and loosen jeans ripped on the knees.

I replied with a smile of my own, watching as he sat on the bar stool in front of me.

“when is your shift ending tonight?” he asked, as soon as he took the bar stool in front of me. A playful look glimmered in his eyes, by his tone I knew he would ask me to join later.

“in an hour, why?” I said, cleaning over the bar in front of us to place a glass with ice for him, turning around to get him his usual whiskey.

“perfect, we’ll have enough time to get a few drinks before going to the bonfire that’s happening by the lake” at his words I turned around quickly looking at him dumbfounded.

“we? who said I was going?” I teased.

“I did” he said as if it was nothing, pushing his glass towards me to fill it, scoffing playfully I did so.

He looked up at me with biggest puppy eyes ever, leaning his head slightly to the side. I chuckled knowingly.

“oh no, I know this look…” I tell him as I filling another glass of whiskey for him. “…and it won’t work. Jungkook you know I hate parties.”

“Yeah but… this is different” he says, almond eyes shining through his long lashes as he stared at me with a sly smile.

“really how?”

“I’ll be there” he said drink all of the liquid in his hand in one gulp. “my friends too, so come please?”

I looked over the table his friends were sat at, they were looking over us too. No wonder, Jungkook must’ve told everyone one he knew I was going already. Not that many people would care if I showed up or not, he was the only one who does care.

If this was the only way to not go home tonight, might as well just grab the chance. For once I could walk out of my sad blue and gray routine.

“ok I’ll go with you” I finally tell him, filling his glass one more time.

“I knew you would” his eyes seemed to light up above his smirk in that moment, making my heart skip a beat. It was a different kind of look, one I have never seen before.

I would be the biggest lier if I ever say I didn’t had a crush on him, Jungkook was one of the most handsome men on Spring Villa ever since he step foot here. All woman and men lined up in front of him for a chance to be with him, he was definitely a catch.

Anyone could tell he was hot just by looking, he had his own special charm to make people fall in love with him instantly. Not only did he had a beautiful body that you could definitely tell was all toned even under all the dark loosen clothes he wore but, he had his way with everybody and all it took was one look and a charming smile from him and you would fall on his knees, he didn’t go by anyone unnoticed. People here either loved him or hated him, no in between. I knew from the moment I first saw him that nothing could ever happen between us, that’s why we have such strong friendship.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes wonder from every now and then, every time I would notice him looking away I let myself get a glimpse of his beautiful body and his beautiful face.

But he was much more then that to me, he was my best friend. One of the only ones I had and I wouldn’t let anything mess that up, even my own feelings. I would push anything aside to keep him by my side, even if is my heart.

He deserves more. More then I could ever be.

“oh right…” he suddenly said “you like girls right?”

“what!?” I exclaimed, flushed at his sudden question.

“what, what?” he lifted his eyebrows up surprised “you never said anything about boyfriends and I never saw you with a guy, I’m starting to wonder….”

“no…” i like you, you idiot. Is what I want to say, but I can’t and I shouldn’t. Never. “Don’t just assume that kind of thing…”

“well then what do you like, I need to know so I can set you up with someone for the bonfire” he said.

“I like boys, and you don’t need to set me up with anyone.”

“ok.”

“besides is not like anyone is interested in me or what so ever” I began to angrily clean the bar top.

“ok, sorry for pushing kitty” he said, stoping me from cleaning with his hand over mine.

I immediately looked up at him, heart beat skipping a beat as I gulped down. His eyes scanned my face, i tried my best not to show how the nickname affected me focusing on the light in his eyes as they seemed to shine different tonight almost making them look brighter like whiskey mixed with wine. I was completely lost in him again, too much to notice his cold hand over mine as his smile brought my attention to his lips. Wet and pink.

“you’ll take our table for the rest of your shift right?” he asked softly.

“of course, who else can put up with you guys?” I tell him.

He only chuckled nodding towards me, he got up from his seat and gave me one last smile before turning around to go back to the table with his friends. I wished i could tell that smile went past me and didn’t effect me as much as he always did, he was my only friend why did such feelings had to rise from my chest every time i was with him?

Once again i shut that door in my heart to stop them from rising again.

For some reason the past hour felt like an eternity, i carried on serving Jungkooks table for the rest of my shift as they order as much they could drink for the time being before it was time to go to the bonfire, Jungkook was with two of his friends tonight and it always amazed me how much they drink and don’t even looked halfway drunk. I knew they were seven although it has difficult to see all of them together at the same time, i only knew their names through Jungkook and a few things about them as he would tell me sometimes. How they all meet one by one as the years passed through trips around the world.

He mentioned how he first meet Hoseok when he went to a contemporary dance concert at a music festival and at the same week he meet Taehyung who were there to play violin at the festival, he said they all clicked with each other immediately and a few months later they run into Jimin in a party as well as Yoongi as they already knew each other. It seemed Yoongi already knew Jin the oldest and Jin knew Namjoon from birth as they grew up together away from Spring Villa.

I haven’t meet the older friends yet, they all seemed to be occupied with something as Jungkook would always tell me. He admire his friends very much from how he always speaks so passionately of them to me from time to time. So far i only knew Jimin since he and Jungkook were always together as well as Hoseok who sometimes tags along with the two, although they were very closed to each other i never saw them with the other three.

One look at the clock and a sight of relief left my lips as i notice my shift was about to end, making my way towards the staff room to change and hit the end of my shift, I quickly take my things from my locker before walking out of the staff room. I wished i knew he would invite me out for the bonfire, I would have put a bit more of an effort into how i looked before going out.

Whilst making my way towards their table I tried to fix my hair the best I could, untying the messy bun i did earlier to work and letting my hair fall messily down my back. I watched as the three of them seemed to be heaving a fun conversation before Jungkook turned towards my direction a smirk on his lips as he looked me up and down rising his eyebrows playfully.

“are you guys ready to go?” i said, once i finally stood in front of them catching their stares.

“yes boss” said Jimin, while getting up from his seat being fallowed by the two others.

“are we walking there?” i asked Jungkook taking his side while we made or way out of the Grill.

“yeah, is not that far from here” he took a cigarette from his pocket lightening it up while we walked down the cold streets of Sping Villa.

The smoke filling the humid air around us, it hadn’t rain in a few days here which was honestly a miracle. That was unusual in a city that rained more than anything, at times like this i really wondered if the reason why the serial killer just wasn’t caugh because the rain cleaned his traces.

How lucky and convenient for someone to attack this small town, I couldn’t help but think about it from time to time. Even though i would always brush this thoughts away from my mind now letting Jungkook and his friends voice fill my head as we make our way to the bonfire on the west side of town. Although it was away from the town it didn’t took too long for us to get there, a bonfire in Spring Villa was rare due to the heavy rains that were present every day here. People must been excited about it, something i was unfamiliar with. All senses of joy for me were short lived, I didn’t have a choice but to give up on them. Not because i wanted but, because they were stolen from me each time.

I looked up at the sky watching as the full moon shined above me, the sky never looked so clear before. Full of stars to replace the clouds and cover us and more light.

It felt warmer to be under the moon for once, I couldn’t remember the last time i saw her.

“you okay?” Jimin whispered over my ear, one arm closing around my neck as he showed me a smile.

“yeah” i replied his smile.

Out of all of them - or at least, the ones i knew - Jimin was the most touchy person, Jungkook could get clingy sometimes but usually only when he needed something in return. Even though he was a men after all, i never once felt uncomfortable close to him. He always had a soft energy around him that just brings you into him each time, it took some time before we got close enough to be like this though with each other. The first time we meet he couldn’t even look at me without shying away, it was cute.

I circle my arm around his waist and we make our way together.

“oh… i see why don’t have to set you up with anyone…” Jungkook said, playfully beside me eyeing us together.

“hey, his my friend too” i glare at him playfully.

“see? she’s mine too” Jimin taunts beside me, pulling me from the shoulders as he closed around me a deep chuckle filling the air from his chest.

I chuckled with him too distracted by his smile and hands around me to notice we were the only ones laughing, too absorbed by his eyes over mine to look anywhere else.

Everything just felt like slow motion whenever i was with them, i could bearly see through it all. And i loved every little second of it - anything to stay out of home.

I didn’t liked parties much, I never understood what was so special about them. Maybe if you have friends it is more enjoyable to be partying, since for a long time people didn’t wanted to be close to me I just shut myself down from everything I could.

Until Jungkook showed up I had no one by my side, now with him and his friends I can actually enjoy a bit of fun.

Just like I predicted it didn’t took us much longer to arrive at the bonfire, I watched around us all the young people laugh over the loud music with red cups in hands. Some danced, some just sat around the big bonfire drinking and just talking while some were courageous enough to be swimming at the lake.

Jungkook guided us to a big fallen tree in a corner closer to the lake to sit there, him and Jimin left quickly to get us some drinks and Jungkook came without Jimin saying his getting something stronger.

I took one beer from him as Hoseok did the same, sitting between the too boys.

“oh god I hate this…” immediately regretted taking a sip of the cheap drink.

“what? The party?” Hoseok asked beside me.

“no… this disgusting liquid” I turned to the white haired boy putting the bottle down.

“oh, not everyone does” he chuckled. “what do you like drinking?”

“sweet!” Jimins loud voice interrupted before I could answer.

He sat in front of us all giggly with which I assumed was a stolen bottle of strawberry Smirnoff.

“she likes the strong and sweet drinks”Jimin answered for me.

“you’re right, thanks Jimin.”

He gives me a wink fallowed by a small nod opening the bottle for me to have a sip, we all drank a few times together and I remember mentioning that I hated beer and preferred sweeter drinks and wine, I didn’t know he would remember as we usually were completely nocked out drunk.

“want some?” I offer to Hoseok.

“oh yes…” he took the bottle from my hand, cold fingers brushing over mine.

A chill went down my body for a second and a hugged myself, watching as he drank a good amount lips slightly wet from the drink.

He handed me back the bottle, the fire shining on the dark glasses on his face.

“isn’t it too dark for you?” i playful ask.

“a little…” he smiled, taking it off.

I tried to hide my surprise when I saw his eyes for the first time, the fire reflected in them wildly almost like a reflection on a mirror. His eyes were of a blue so clear to a white shade I could swear o saw galaxies in them, I can’t understand why he would want to hide them he looked even more beautiful without the glasses.

I don’t question him anymore deciding to enjoy the time with them by drinking some more, I let time completely go forgotten for now watching the fire burn in front of me.

At some point i knew i was completely drunk already, the bottle in my hand wasn’t the same from before and my body felt lighter. Everything that was coming out of Jimins mouth seemed to be the most funny joke I’ve ever heard, he kept me entertained for the most time taken me to dance a few times even.

But I couldn’t keep up with his energetic self, body tired from working a whole shift at the Grill.

Then again he would pull me out to dance again this time taking the white haired boy with us, the three of us drunk as hell dancing together with the people around the bonfire.

The hot heat warmed my body and for once I felt the happiest for once, nothing matter in the world anymore and all my problems had evaporated completely from my mind.

When Hoseoks cold hands took mine into his to dance bringing my body closer to his, I let him. Giggling like an idiot with my cheeks hotter then the fire burning beside us, when he brushed my hair back exposing my skin I simply let him.

I could feel his drunken giggles over my face as he spin me around, hands holding my waist but it wasn’t his anymore. Looking up I’m meet with Jimins sweet eyes and smile.

Every cell in my body was being pulled towards him, as if I was in a dream a state I could no longer control my body and only watch what was happening.

Watching as my body leaned forward into his, the only moment I felt like my body belonged to me when I felt the shivers running down my skin as he brushed the hair away from my shoulder, eyes staring down at my lips the more he leaned into me.

Just then before he could move another centimeter closer, Jimin was pulled away from me as well as the dreamy state I was in.

All together I felt my senses come back, the sound of loud music and people’s talking around us, the smell of fire burning. Jungkook stood in front of me anger clearly reflected on his features as he stared silently at Jimin who looked at him with the same intensity.

I watched the two of them confused, feeling a gentle pull at my arm from behind me I turned quickly looking up and Hoseok.

He muttered a “let’s go” and I fallowed him wherever he was going, turning back a few times to check on the two males we just left.

We stood closer to a truck filled with all sorts of drinks, Hoseok grabbed a few water bottles from it and we stood close to a big old tree. I could see all the bonfire from here as well as Jungkook and Jimin leaving together into the dark entrance of trees.

After drink half of the water I looked up at Hoseok who still looked where the two boys just went.

“what happened?” I asked him, feeling completely lost. “was it something I did?”

“no y/n…” he turned to me, clearly trying his best to hide what he truly felt in that moment “you didn’t do anything it’s just… they have something’s going on right now, it’s a bit complicated.”

“oh… oh” the realization hits me like a brick.

From the time I’ve been friends with Jungkook I knew that both, men and woman were always there for him trying to get with him. I just never saw him with someone before and now everything made sense to me, he had something with Jimin.

That thought made things more complex to me, I just couldn’t understand why he never mentioned to me before. We were friends.

After some time had passed I realized that maybe that was because of me, Jungkook must’ve seen all of that and now they are fighting.

I couldn’t bear that, I never knew that could happen and before I even know I was already making my way into the dark trees without Hoseok noticing.

If they fight because of me I have to clear things out, beyond that I felt terribly bad for Jungkook.

Walking into this tress at night made me feel uncomfortable, it was a clear reminder of my nightmares and I felt the fear growing inside of my chest the deeper I went through that darkness.

I could still hear the loud music and talking of people from here but as I carry on walking I heard loud hustles from the other side, I didn’t felt the need to rush there until I heard Jungkooks voice.

My feet moved on it’s on I was rushing through the bushes, fallowing his voice as I felt some bushes hit me all over until I stomp into the unexpected scene.

My breath got stuck in my throat but everything looked so clear that my whole body went cold.

Jungkook was pressed on the tree as someone held him by the neck, a painful expression reflected on his features as the men who held him there was glued to his neck.

It wasn’t until said men leaned back from him and I realized it was Jimin, exposing all the blood on his face it finally came to me what was happening. Jungkook fell to the ground hand over his neck, a painful groan leaving his lips .

All I could do was watch, feeling my body cold as ice completely frozen at the spot as jimins face covered in blood turned towards me. A gasp leaving my lips as his eyes burned over mine, red eyes like crimson blood.

I immediately turned to leave finally finding the will to move my frozen body but, all to my surprise he was right there in front of me with a bloody smirk on his lips.

No.

My vision began to blur into darkness, my own body completely giving up on standing and I felt weak in my senses.

No.

All I could see was his red eyes before I fall into the darkness of my mind.

I could feel my lungs burning as i breathed in and out the cold air, i was running between the trees again the darkness of my surroundings where swallowing me the deeper i ran into it.

Every cell in my body burned getting more restless as I desperately rushed through the woods, completely exhausted and out of breath my vision blurred and i felt my body give up on me falling miserably into the wet grass.

Turning around breathless a shadow presence like the dark night sky made his way slowly towards my body on the ground, i wanted to get up, run again my body wouldn’t listen to me.

I felt my body completely froze at the sight the closer he got to me, the moon light slowly illuminated more of his presence each step he took.

The more clear i saw him the more anxious i felt, just then as he stood completely above me i realized i knew who he was. I could no longer breathe as his red crimson eyes stared into mine with complete darkness, for the first time in years i see the face of my nightmares.

He falls to his knees in front of me, blood dripping from his mouth as a smile i never saw on him grows on his lips. I felt at loss at the sight of Jungkook, still not believing in it but there he was ready to take me as one of his victims.

I woke up in a rush cold sweat dripping from my forehead, my chest was hurting instantly feeling as if I had rubbed a marathon my body ache in pain and my head was foggy as if I was under water for a moment until I wasn’t and high pitched sound echoed through my head.

Once it faded away I was able to breath normally, looking around to see I was in my room. I couldn’t make out how i felt in that moment, everything still felt like a dream.

But that couldn’t be.

The memories of last night were a blur in my head, I couldn’t place my thoughts together weakly trying and the more i did the more my head hurt tears forming in my eyes i felt so helpless. Not being able to control my own my mind anymore no matter how much i tried to, all of a sudden everything became to much to understand then with the sound of rain hitting my window i could finally feel my mind emptying and i was back to myself, as if i was high on a dream I remembered one by one of last night events.

I was at the bonfire with Jungkook and his friends when he and Jimin went in the woods, how unease I felt at the knew informations about his relation with him in that moment deciding to fallow them in the woods only to be meet with the sight of Jungkook body falling on the ground with blood covering his neck as a Jimin stood there in a way I never could imagine.

The red eyes I could swear I’ve seen it before, the same one in my nightmares.

The same ones i dreamed were Jungkook, and the blood dancing on their lips.

All i could think was how much had i lost my mind to project such nightmare on Jungkook and Jimin, him out of every person i knew. The thought made me sick and i wish i could understand why that was happening to me, worried i might have actually gone insane.

By the moment I had collected my thoughts my head was spinning and I quickly got up, rushing to the bathroom to take my meds and throw some water on my face.

Everything that happened last night was a complete mess, what was supposed to be a fun night between friends was flipped insanely into another nightmare of mine.

All i could think now was Jungkook, what could have happen after i blank out last night. I stil couldn’t understand how i got back home, what could have happen to my friend and who did that to him.

My hands were shaking as I searched for my phone it was still so early in the morning, the sun has bearly appear although you couldn’t really tell as the dark gray skies covered Spring Villa in rain, after finding it I quickly called Jungkook to make sue he was okay but every time it went straight to voicemail.

Growing worried each time i spear no more time to leave my room running down the stairs without a single thou in my mind as I exit the house.

Not him.

I kept repeating that in my head.

I felt desperate, not even sure what I should do in that moment I just hoped in my bike and made my way to the only place i knew someone would be able to tell me what in the hell happened to Jungkook, his oldest friend mansion on the west of Spring Villa.

I have no idea where he could be right now and if someone knew what happened that night it has to be Hoseok and I hoped I could find them at their house, i didnt know who else to turn to right now and it only made my feel more helpless. My friend could be in danger and all i could do was find someone else to do something about it.

Tears were forming under my eyes the cold weather as usual was enough to make me shake under it, rushing through the empty streets a light rain began falling as if on quote Spring Villa was back to its grey days.

I passed a few police cars and an ambulance closer to were the bonfire happened last night, I couldn’t help the immediate stop watching as they closed half the road with yellow tape. Just then a the sky roared in anger, a light thunder shined above us as if to say something.

A few people who watched closely to were I had stopped were gossiping about what I thought would never happen again in this shitty town, but under all of their usual comments and half ass words of comfort to the people around there was one that felt like a punch in my stomach blurring anything else they were saying was the phrase;

“They found a body of a young man on the woods”

With a racing heart I rushed past them, repeating in my mind prayers - please not him.

After a long while I spotted the old mansion on the west hill, my legs were hurting from biking around so fast. My body cold from the rain, I couldn’t think about anything else besides him. The possibility that someone so close to me turned out to be the monster in my dreams.

It never one occurred to me to go their house before, it was never something I felt comfortable with and Jungkook never invited me over. I never questioned it I wasn’t the type to push someone about their lives, we build our friendship over our trust with each other . I knew who he was and he knew about me, we had that and it was enough.

But now after last night I felt desperate, he hasn’t returned my calls and even though it was so early I had to make sure he was fine. Especially when the serial killer was back.

I quickly made my way towards the entrance nocking on the heavy wooden door, I waited before moving once again impatiently I felt my self grow even more worried.

Before I could nock a third time the door was open revealing a tall men with red hair and amber eyes, I stood there staring into his eyes fist still mid air In front of me embarrassing.

“yes?” he blurted, voice deep almost like a growl as he looked me up and down no expression on his face.

It didn’t go unnoticed by me how he clearly was inspecting my presence there with judging eyes, then I realized he was still in his sleeping clothes feeling my embarrassment grow even more for waking him up so early with my sudden presence but i had a reason for coming here and despite everything else I held up the courage to speak up.

“is Jungkook here?” i questioned, trying my best not to let any of my insecurities shine through. Still feeling the awkwardness

“who’s asking?” he then asked, a bored look on his features. The awkwardness was stone cold.

I almost groaned out at his words, something bad must’ve happened to Jungkook and he was playing around as if everything was completely fine. My body was begging to grow hot with anger.

“I’m y/n, his friend…” i rushed the words, feeling more impatient at his calmness. “is he here? Is he okay?”

Before he could say anything the door opened fully and to my relief it was Hoseok, just like the men with red hair he too was still in his sleeping clothes confused as he walked to me.

“y/n? what are you doing here so early?” he mumble, voice deeper then usual and a bit hoarse.

“I’m sorry it’s just…. about last night when I saw Jungkook… he-“ I couldn’t even mutter the words without feeling a hole swallow me from my chest.

“hey it’s okay, Tae go back I’ll take care of her” he spoke to the red haired man, making his way closer to me holding my shoulders carefully.

The red haired men looked at me before giving Hoseok a nod turning on his heels to go back inside, the door was shut closed leaving me out alone with Hoseok who seemed a bit more worried this time.

“Hoseok what in the world happened last night?”

“I’ll tell you come here” he pulled me towards the side but i stood there growing anxious, I can’t wait any longer for an explanation. He looked into my eyes as if realizing exactly what i meant. “you blackout in the woods last night.”

“yeah I know that but Jungkook…” I interrupt, nothing about me was important to me.

“he took you home” he blurted

“he did? But…”

“listen y/n, we were having fun last night then you black out in the woods and Jungkook was searching for you everywhere” he carry on explaining, and I couldn’t believe it or i just didnt know what to believe in anymore. “when we found you he immediately brought you back home.”

“but I saw…”

“what?”

Was it all in my head then?

He had no reason to lie to me about such thing, still it didnt felt right what he was saying. I knew what I saw last ight, despite all the alcohol and my meds i knew i saw Jungkook being attacked by something or someone.

But if Jungkook was fine as Hoseok said then, all of this was just another illusion. What I saw last night wasn’t real. I was falling into that miserable trap in my head, I couldn’t help but feel completely lost as darkness fell upon my back.

I’ve been acting out of my mind this whole time without a care in the world, trespassing boundaries by coming here like a crazy woman asking for Jungkook to some of his friends when he was safe and sound.

“I’m so sorry Hoseok I just…. I heard about a body found in the woods” I tell him “he didn’t answer my calls so I was worried something happened to him.”

I decided to tell him what made me worried enough to come all the way here, leaving out the fact that i was mentally unstable and had a nightmare with his friend so real i thought he was dead.

He gave me an apologetic smile.

“is okay… you were just worried about him” he replied.

I watched as he looked at me with those eyes, the same ones everyone else did when they got a glimpse into my turbulent mind. I hated that more then anything and the fact he was now staring into my eyes with the same look mad me realize he might as well just be like everybody else, and I felt a crack in my heart.

“can you tell him to call me then, please I need to talk to him” I mumbled, looking down unable to meet his eyes.

“of course y/n…” he gave me a small hug “you should rest now is still pretty early in the morning, I’ll make sure he calls you as soon as I see him.”

“yes, im sorry Hoseok for showing up like this…” looking everywhere but his face, a need to run awa creeping into my mind.

“is okay, I understand where you’re coming from y/n” he answered softly.

I didnt spear another look at his direction as i turned on my heels to leave. That was my walk of shame back home and I didn’t know if i would ever be able to look into his face again without feeling completely embarrassed. I almost let it slip my worst nightmare, most people from Spring Villa already knew about my past and i didnt wanted to more people to find out about it. It burned almost, how much that part of me contributed to my own down fall but there was nothing i could do about it. I had tried everything I could and nothing ever seems to work. My mind has been playing games over me for so long, I should’ve known it was all in my head before packing and going to their home.

I was worried for what I saw and all of it wasn’t even real, just a coincidence.

I sighted looking at my own self in front of my small bathroom mirror, tired eyes and messy hair all over the place. I took a good look at my self feeling more pathetic the more i looked, i was tired. Physically and mentally.

It honestly took me so long to leave the bathroom, to get out of my head. This illusions ive been heaving ever since my brother left the world, this nightmares i thought were gone but now were back stronger then ever took everything i had.

I sat down in bed, the small container with meds in my hand. The rain continued to pour down outside, the darkness slowly rising more above in the skies just like my heart it was almost unbearable to tolerate all of this conscious, taking the meds in one gulp i waited for the effects to start and so on slowly my body began to drift into the deep sleep.

For once, let me sleep without a single dream in mind. No more nightmares.

But the pills stopped working a long time ago.

I walked a dark path of a long corridor, my stpes were muffled by a red carpet that fallowed the floors of the corridor.

I wasnt tired.

I wasnt running.

No one was coming to get me, my heart beat calmly on my chest and nothing happened.

I could see some lighter further ahead on the left and fallowed till im inside a big room, the enormous fireplace illuminated the room and from the fire i could make out two couches on each side and a small tea table between them.

My attention was focused on a painting above the fireplace which i could tell was the “The fall of rabel angels” from Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

The sudden deep chuckle behind me makes me turn around quickly, fear rising up my chest but i see nothing. Taking steps slowly closer to the fireplace until I feel myself collide with someone, turning on my heels im meet with amber eyes and a re haired men.

The fire burned brighter behind him and in an abrupt movement he takes me by the neck, turning my self aaround so my back is against his body he holding my chin forcing me to look into his amber eyes as i watch them slowly fade into red crimson.

“don’t worry, this wont hurt…”

Was all he mumbles into my face before showing his fangs, an almost demonic face staring into mine i could feel my whole body panicking colder then ever felt.

I could still hear his deep laugh as i lost consciousness, eyes feeling so heavy being forced to open as my body shakes in his arms. I was abruptly woken up cold sweat sliding down my neck making me feel even more uncomfortable, the loud noise of my phone ringing waking me up fully.

I took it not looking who’s the caller.

“hello?” my voice was still muffled and raspy, throat dry.

“y/n? Are you okay?” jungkooks rushed voice said on the other side.

I felt my whole body immediately wake up at the sound of his voice. He was okay.

I didnt know what to say in that moment it felt unreal but i was so relieved to finally hear his voice, everything seemed to fall back to its place in that moment.

“I’m fine, i was so worried about you….” i tell him honestly “I’m so sorry i even went to your house.”

He chuckled and i cold almost picture his teasingly smiling.

“i know that…. I’m flattered you care that much for me” he said.

“how could i not? You are my best friend.”

“I know. Sorry I made you worry that much, i wont do that again kitten.”

I looked at the clock on my nightstand as it marked half past nine, stomach rumbles in hunger. An entire day has gone already and invent had single bite of food.

“oh my was that an alien?” he said, a deep laughter coming from the other side of the line.

“you heard that?” I exclaimed embarrassed, cheeks hitting up.

“hard not to, have you not feed the family of aliens in your stomach?” he playfully says, I could definitely picture the grin he had on his face as he said that.

“i will right now…” i groaned.

“yes do that, ill see you tomorrow at the grill?”

“yeah… text me the time” i tell him.

“will do boss, bye.”

“bye, Jungkook.”

With that i hung up the call, feeling the smile grow on my face.

For as much as my nightmares and illusions bring the bitterness of me i could always count on Jungkook to change that, he was always able to filter out all of that darkness from my heart.

Hearing my stomach roar in hunger again i’d decide to finally commit to feeding it, feeling completely refreshed now knowing my best friend was fine and safe i made my way downstairs to get some food.

The sight i saw as I went downstairs was almost enough to make me regret it completely my decision and alsmot go back to my room, watching as my mother sat in the couch with one of her boyfriends drinking beer as they’re watched a football match smoke do cigarettes filling the small tv room.

I felt like throwing up but I wouldn’t let this be the end of my day, taking my purse i took the back door and decided to go have dinner at the one place i knew would be opened this late. The Grill.

The light rain hasn’t stopped since it started today, deep in my heart I knew the air in Srping Villa had changed again. A feeling I was hoping I would never felt again ever since this small town was turned upside down, but all was gone.

My thoughts were in pieces and for at least the end of this night I just wanted to forget everything and enjoy a meal.

That was my only concern the moment I sat down in on of the tables close to the bar at the Grill, French fries in front of me and a cup with coffee. The only thing they would serve at this late night but o was grateful for it.

I was quietly eating my fries listening to the low voices around me, there were only a few people at the Grill tonight. Certainly the accident that happened last night did shaken some sense into people’s minds for once, a reminder that this place was not only a tourist attraction but it had its stories.

I dared to look up once I was almost finished eating my food, inmost chocking upon the scene a few tables away from mine on the corner.

There was the red haired men I meet earlier at Jungkooks house and Jimin, they seemed to be in a fun chat with two girls sitting between the two of them.

I could see how Jimin would push aside the hair of the girl beside him, clearly expressing flirtatious acts towards her.

It would take a genius to understand what was happening there, knowing it isn’t made me feel any better too.

As they got up and walked to the exit I tired my best to hide my presence, not waning to make anything more difficult.

Watching as Jiminclosed one arm around the girls neck, as they left the Grill.

I still remember Hoseoks words at the bonfire last night, that couldn’t be my minds doing. I knew he told me Jimin and Jungkook had something going on together and that was what made me even more uneasy.

If they do then why would Jimin be going out with that girl?

Why would he do such thing to Jungkook?

I immediately scensored myself, it’s none of my business I shouldn’t be even thinking about such things.

But as his friend also, I should at least make sure I’m no just jumping to wrong conclusions. I could be just misunderstanding what was happening.

Not daring much to overthink it I got up making my way to the exit, I was afraid I might’ve lose them by now but they were still close by. Walking a few feet behind them making sure to keep a good distance I fallowed as they walked around the night streets, so far nothing had happened.

Once I saw them take another turned I stoped - this is wrong, I shouldn’t be fallowing them like this.

With a sight I turned back to leave but ended up crashing with someone else.

“I’m so sorry….”

I mumbled turning around before harshly being pulled back.

“Hey!” I stare angrily at the girl who pulled me back.

The girls says nothing at first, she had grin on her face as she looks at me up and down. She didn’t look like someone from around here and I sure never saw here in town before, the girl was taller then as she wore heels, a dress glued to her body and a jacket over it.

“Watch your tone little girl… you’re no match for me” the girl says, taking a step closer to me till she’s nearly a centimeter away.

The more I stared at her the more I stared to feel a dimly tingling sensation over my body, it was making me feel colder and uncomfortable. I could feel my brain screaming and gut in unison for me to run, that something didn’t felt right. But I was paralyzed in that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to speak or move.

“Well since your here… let’s make this the best of it, hum?” The girl pulled me by the wrist.

I try to pull away from her grip but I was suddenly struck by a painful feeling as she bite into my wrist, a loud groan comes out of my mouth as I feel her sharp teeth rip through my skin.

Her eyes where completely black as she stared at me, I try to fight her, to pull her back but it was impossible she was so much stronger.

In that moment all I could hear was my own heart pounding in my chest, my entire body was shivering and my legs were shaking. The pain burned through my entire arm.

It was so fast that I could nearly process the moment the girl was ripped off my arm, I fall to my knees breathing quickly as I look up to the red haired men I saw this morning holding her against the wall by the neck.

I looked the red hair in panic, but I couldn’t tell who he was anymore. A chill spreads down my spine as his eyes were no longer the amber color I knew but red just like blood, in a second he bit into the girls neck and I watched in horror as blood splattered across the air, the girl groan out in pain and I looked away as the sounds of flesh being ripped off continued. No, this can’t be real - i begged.

It’s just another illusion of my mind, I’m sure I’m heaving another dream.

I could feel my whole body shake with my have breathing, heart racing faster by the seconds I was completely losing myself into panic.

Holding tighter to my burning arm, blood wetting the surface of my shirt and everything around it. The smell of it was getting stronger, something I knew but wasn’t used to it.

It wasn’t until I felt a grip into my shoulder that was able to move again.

“no!” i exclaimed, fearing it was red hair now ready to end me aswell but i felt myself slowly calming as im meet with Jimins worried expression.

“it’s okay y/n….” he murmured. “it’s me y/n.”

He helped me get back up on my feet, hands holding my shoulders he looked into my eyes.

“i’m so sorry for this” he said.

My eyes looked behind him were the red hair men stood, blood dripping down his lips as he smirked.

I didn’t know what to say, my mind was blank in that moment I didn’t know what was real.

“oh no… you’re…”Jimin said between pauses looking down at my arm “hurt…”

He sounded much lower and I notice the change in his eyes the moment he looked at me bloody arm, how hos brown eyes faded into red crimson pointy fangs showing.

“what happened here?!”

I blinked a couple times before looking up at the worried face of my best friend.

“Jungkook?” I called breathless.

Upon Jungkooks voice I felt myself wake up fully, and with that came the realization of the situation.

I pushed Jimin away rushing towards Jungkook and almost falling over my own feet, feeling my body getting colder and vision blurring.

He quickly catches me and I let myself be immersed into his warmth.

Leaning away I searched for his eyes.

“what is happening kook?” I asked.

He sighted looking at the two men behind me.

“opsie…” even without looking I could tell that wa the red haired men, his mocking deep voice.

“I’ll explain everything y/n I just need to make sure you’re…” he stopped, looking down between us to my arm.

I stared in panic as his eyes faded into bloody red eyes.

They were all the same.

“you’re hurt…” he said.

I feared I had lost myself completely in my insanity but this felt too real to be another illusion form my mind, too painful to be unreal.

The same as I saw in all my nightmares.

“Jungkook…. What are you?”

…..

Notes: this is it for the first part of the story, taglist? Comment if you want to be tagged! I love you guys hope you like this one, until the next one! 🫶☺️

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torahoes · 2 days ago

Text

(IDOLiSH7) Touma Inumaru - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.

Shiro Utsugi: Good work today! It’s almost time!

Shiro Utsugi: No one’s here yet...?

Shiro Utsugi: Maybe if I send a bunch of messages, the notifications will catch someone’s attention

Shiro Utsugi: Alright then, I’ll try talking about my breakfast or something

Shiro Utsugi: This morning, I had rice balls, rolled omelet, sausages, and miso soup with nameko mushrooms. It’s been a while since I cooked in the morning, so I went all out a bit

Touma Inumaru: Ahhhhhh Utsugi-san!!!! I had yakisoba bread for breakfast! Cooking so early in the morning is impressive!!

Touma Inumaru: No, wait — sorry, could you hang on a second…? I accidentally spilled a bag of chips all over my room and I’m cleaning it up now

Shiro Utsugi: That’s a major crisis!! I’ll wait for you…! Isumi-san is over at your place today too, right?

Haruka Isumi: Good work today

Haruka Isumi: Yup, I’m hanging out at Touma’s place right now! My breakfast was natto rice, grilled salmon, spinach ohitashi, and tofu miso soup!

Haruka Isumi: Oh, and sorry for responding late! Touma tried to open a bag of chips just now and it went boom! and scattered everywhere lmaoo

Touma Inumaru: The bag just wouldn't open so I ended up using way too much force 😂

Shiro Utsugi: Ah… I get it, there are times when they’re strangely hard to open…! And thank you both for sharing what you had for breakfast as well!

Haruka Isumi: Picking a topic like this is so you, Utsugi-san. So you eat stuff like potato chips too, huh 🤔

Shiro Utsugi: I like them quite a bit. The seaweed and salt flavored chips make for a great snack to enjoy with drinks, too.

Haruka Isumi: By the way, Touma doesn’t have a vacuum cleaner at his place. Isn’t that crazy? The tiny crumbs on the carpet won’t come out

Haruka Isumi: Hold on, he just came back holding a lint roller like he's some kind of hero brandishing a sword lmao

Touma Inumaru: I'm telling you, this thing can handle most cleaning jobs!

Haruka Isumi: It can't!

Shiro Utsugi: I get it. Lint rollers are really convenient! I used one for most of my cleaning back when I was a student as well.

Touma Inumaru: You too, Utsugi-san!? That makes us comrades! ✨

Haruka Isumi: I didn't know Utsugi-san was like that too

Shiro Utsugi: Indeed, I am.

Touma Inumaru: Oh, then, Utsugi-san, did you play games when you were a student? 😳 Haru brought one over, and we were playing it earlier!

Shiro Utsugi: Ryo-kun made me play with him a bunch of times. What kind of game were you two playing?

Touma Inumaru: It’s a game where you’re a rabbit working part-time at a restaurant! 🍴

Haruka Isumi: You have to prepare the ordered dishes within the time limit, but there’s a lot to do like chopping ingredients and washing dishes, so it’s pretty fun! My fingers got tired from spamming the buttons too quick while slicing cabbages 😂

Touma Inumaru: Actually, doesn’t this sound like the kind of game Ryo-san would love!?

Haruka Isumi: I wonder.... I think he would....?

Touma Inumaru: Utsugi-san, if you play it with Ryo-san, please let me know how it goes! 🤩

Shiro Utsugi: Ah, so it’s already decided I’ll play it with him. I’ll recommend it to him when I get the chance!

Touma Inumaru: Oh, I forgot to mention that the cleaning’s all done! Sorry for the wait!!

Shiro Utsugi: Alright! Let’s begin, then! We've been asked to capture your usual interactions in a cozy setting, as if you were sitting at a dinner table, so we’ll be conducting this discussion on Rabbit Chat!

Shiro Utsugi: How did you feel when you heard Isumi-san would be producing you, Inumaru-san?

Touma Inumaru: I was super happy ‼️ Of course, I would've been thrilled if it were Mina or Tora instead too, but Haru is, how do I put it… special

Touma Inumaru: I really respect Haru as an artist. He never skips vocal training, always works on his basics, and studies all kinds of music genres

Touma Inumaru: Seeing how disciplined and dedicated he is always motivates me.

Touma Inumaru: So, you know, just thinking about how someone like Haru would go about producing me — it made me so happy; my heart was racing with excitement ‼️😆

Haruka Isumi: Hm....

Haruka Isumi: So you respect me

Touma Inumaru: Isn't that obvious!? You’ve been singing, dancing and practicing hard all on your own since you were little

Touma Inumaru: Back when I was that age, I was just running around playing all the time

Touma Inumaru: But Haru... you were doing it for your grandma…...

Haruka Isumi: Why are you the one crying lmaooo

Touma Inumaru: HARU~~~ WE'LL ALWAYS BE TOGETHER, OKAY???

Haruka Isumi: Huh? Now isn't THAT obvious?

Shiro Utsugi: I feel like crying as well..…

Haruka Isumi: Geez! You're both grown-ups, cut it out already!! I haven’t even had a chance to talk about my production yet 😤

Touma Inumaru: Sorry 😭

Shiro Utsugi: Isumi-san, you expressed Inumaru-san through a ballad. I figured you would go with a rap-heavy track, so it was surprising!

Touma Inumaru: Right! I got chills as soon as I heard the intro

Touma Inumaru: I could feel that Haru really considers me — all three of us — special. Even without him saying a word, I felt like his feelings came through

Haruka Isumi: Touma, you always say embarrassing stuff like it’s nothing. Well, you’re not wrong....

Haruka Isumi: Like Utsugi-san said, I thought about going for something more intense, but the way we, his teammates, see him — there's more to him than just that

Haruka Isumi: So, um

Touma Inumaru: What's wrong?

Haruka Isumi: I'm about to give it my allllll and say something suuupeeeeer embarrassing right now too, so

Touma Inumaru: O-Okay, I get it, so stop hitting my back!! Do you want some orange juice?

Haruka Isumi: Not right now!

Haruka Isumi: Touma, you’re... how should I put it... you're warm. Even when I used to be cold towards you or tried to keep my distance, you always had your arms open, waiting for me, and you welcomed me warmly every time. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone

Haruka Isumi: So, I wanted to create a song that would make the people listening to it feel the same way — like they're not alone, like they can take a step forward and face what's ahead — a song that's like a good-luck charm

Haruka Isumi: Just like how being with you helped the three of us do the same

Touma Inumaru: Haru

Haruka Isumi: What

Touma Inumaru: I !!!!! LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU THREE, SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

Haruka Isumi: Don’t shout about stuff like that so loudly!! It’s super embarrassing, you’re gonna bother the neighbors!!!!

Shiro Utsugi: I love the four of you as well....!

Touma Inumaru: Utsugi-san...!!! 😭😭😭

Haruka Isumi: Seriously, what's wrong with these grown-ups!? You guys haven't been drinking, have you!?

Touma Inumaru: I'm completely sober ‼️ I’m drinking melon soda ‼️

Touma Inumaru: But, I see… so that’s why the lyrics were "Look beside you.”

Haruka Isumi: Well, yeah. You've always been the one leading us forward, so

Haruka Isumi: If you ever feel anxious, I’m there right next to you

Haruka Isumi: I’ll support you as your fellow center

Touma Inumaru: I’m seriously so lucky to have met you guys!

Touma Inumaru: Thank you for teaching me what it's like to have teammates like you

Haruka Isumi: Well, of course! We’re your REAL teammates, after all

Haruka Isumi: Hey--!! Touma won't stop ruffling my hair!!!

Haruka Isumi: My hair’s all messed up now!!

Touma Inumaru: Haru’s hair is silky smooth!

Shiro Utsugi: I’m jealous. Can I also try petting you next time?

Haruka Isumi: Don’t say it like you’re talking about petting a cat!

Shiro Utsugi: My apologies! 🐾 Now then, I’d like to ask about the artist photoshoot next. The location you chose was beautiful!

Touma Inumaru: It was such a great place! The ginkgo-lined path was stunning 🍂

Haruka Isumi: Wasn't it? I thought it really suited Touma 🍂

Touma Inumaru: Seriously? What part of it!?

Haruka Isumi: Promise you won’t laugh?

Touma Inumaru: Huh!? Of course I won't! It's something you put a lot of thought into choosing, with me in mind

Haruka Isumi: Then I’ll tell you...

Haruka Isumi: I walked through there alone not long ago, and the soft, warm colors of the ginkgo trees felt like they were enveloping me. I thought it would be amazing if we could walk here together and take your artist photos

Haruka Isumi: The season you were born in is a cold one with chilly, biting winds, but being with you makes me feel so warm and comforted that I forget all about it

Haruka Isumi: That's why the scenery kinda reminded me of you...

Touma Inumaru: Haru....

Touma Inumaru: Honestly.... I don’t even know what to say right now, but I’m so incredibly happy. I’m not the kind of person who deserves such praise from you

Touma Inumaru: But I was really touched that the lyrics kept reminding me, again and again, that I have my friends by my side. It made me realize all over again that my purpose in life is to keep singing as part of ŹOOĻ.

Touma Inumaru: Keep singing next to me forever, Haru

Haruka Isumi: Woah, that was a killer line. Right back at you!

Touma Inumaru: Utsugi-san! Haru and I just did a fist bump! 👊👊

Shiro Utsugi: Oh, thank you for sharing that with me! Lovely ŹOOĻ as always! 👊👊 Did the decision to have Inumaru-san's costume stray from his usual hard-edged style come from wanting to express his warmth?

Haruka Isumi: Yup, I paired a white knit sweater with a scarf to create a softer impression 👌

Touma Inumaru: I don’t usually wear knitwear, so it felt fresh! I was worried if it would suit me, but the shoot turned out great thanks to Haru 😳✨

Haruka Isumi: Touma, I'm pretty sure you can pull off anything

Touma Inumaru: For real? Even bold clothes like Tora’s, with my chest fully exposed?

Touma Inumaru: Hey, don’t laugh Haru lololol

Haruka Isumi: Sorry lol, I couldn’t help it once I pictured it LMAO

Touma Inumaru: That's kinda annoying 😂 Maybe I should borrow Tora’s clothes and try it soon!?

Haruka Isumi: Oh man, I’m so looking forward to this LOL. Let’s rate his look together, Utsugi-san!

Shiro Utsugi: Me too!? Actually, that might not be a bad idea. We could uncover some new possibilities for ŹOOĻ…!

Haruka Isumi: What kind of "new possibilities" are we uncovering by having Touma show off his bare chest? LMAOO

Touma Inumaru: LOL

Shiro Utsugi: My apologies; that took an amusing turn, didn't it? 🐾 Now, to wrap things up, could you share a final message for your fans?

Haruka Isumi: Everyone! What did you think of the Touma I produced? Maybe some of you were surprised, maybe the others saw it coming. You see, to us, ŹOOĻ is this precious place we finally found — the place where we truly belong, and the one who's been standing at the forefront, protecting it all this time, is Touma

Haruka Isumi: That’s why I wanted to tell Touma, who’s been protecting ŹOOĻ, that we’re here for him too, and that his place is right here with us. And I could do that all thanks to the fans’ support! Thank you so much! Keep watching over us forever, okay?

Touma Inumaru: Being able to sing a song that promises a future with my members is something so special it turns my world upside down, and the fact that Haru made that happen means so much to me

Touma Inumaru: Haru made it sound like I'm amazing, but I’m really not. I used to turn a blind eye to things I didn’t like. I used to treat everyone but me as my enemy. I was childish.

Touma Inumaru: But the reason I was able to change was because I found a place I truly want to protect from the bottom of my heart. It's thanks to the fans, who directed their warm, sincere feelings at us head-on

Touma Inumaru: Listening to "Heart to Heart," I was reminded of that once again. This song is like a good-luck charm to me, and it’d be awesome if it became one for all of you too! Let’s dream about ŹOOĻ’s future together!

Shiro Utsugi: Thank you! I feel like this conversation between you two turned out to be something truly special!

Touma Inumaru: Yeah, I think so too! The fact that Haru said so much today... 😭

Haruka Isumi: It's nothing. I can praise you more anytime you want if that's what you'd like.

Touma Inumaru: For real!? Haru, you’re kinda cool today

Haruka Isumi:

Touma Inumaru: Wanna play that restaurant game again?

Haruka Isumi: Yeah!! Let’s make the best restaurant ever! Let’s invite Torao and Minami and play multiplayer with all four of us!!! 🎮

Touma Inumaru: This cute side of Haru really puts me at ease 😆 Let’s keep going forever — the four of us, together!

The End.

#idolish7 translation #zool #idolish7 #ainana #i7 #id7 #rabbitchat #rabbit chat #i7 translation #haruka isumi #isumi haruka #touma inumaru #inumaru touma #toma inumaru #inumaru toma #shiro utsugi #utsugi shiro #16producers

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vatelixx · 3 days ago

Text

In the crooks of your body (I find religion),

mid-seasons Spencer Reid x afab!reader

SMUT!! (and fluff, lots of fluff. no angst this time, mostly for damage control) ─── soft love & early mornings. idk it’s just domestic bliss for a change.

Warnings: light d/s dynamic (sub spencer, im predictable), low-key praise for both parties, pre-established relationship, they’re soooo in love, they’re also domesticated, morning sex (but there’s no penetration, just oral), they’re both nerds, their pillow talk is science, autistic spencer always (it’s canon to me) greek mythology references, probably the nicest thing i’ll ever write.

w.c: 3k

a/n: post-prison (as requested by many) is still being worked on. it makes me sick. i wrote this to improve my mental health. i’d apologise for being inactive recently but it was necessary, ohmygodihavesomuchcoursework.

──────────────

Saturdays are for this. Waking up to no obligations, work tossed aside, Spencer’s state of impending doom reduces to something distant, untouchable. Barely dawn, there’s a level of domesticity to the art of sleeping together.

Sure, he could go on tangents, disbelieving that he’s allowed to attain this. But it’s futile, he’s long grown tired of exhausting the how to your dynamic, the statistic improbabilities, he always thought you would be reserved to his fantasies. Pandora’s box, a hypothetical kept under lock and key.

But no— he’s willing to accept that, on this one off occasion, he’s made an error in his calculations. An illogical anomaly.

Draped in the mantle of sleep, he feels the soft push of cotton sheets first, then the warm-blooded body curved around him. There isn’t traces of a case lingering at the forefront of his mind when he shifts, drawing himself closer, almost subconsciously, by guided instinct.

Touch. Touch, a natural, biological need. Something Spencer has always shied away from, finding nothing but hurt at the double-edged sword of intimacy. It’s not like he has much experience to base this on. And yet, right now, he’s not thinking factually, from a logical standpoint. Because, okay, there’s comfort in knowing the person that touches you is in fact supposed to touch you.

His hands find your body, his movements still slow and weary, thumb brushing the edge of your vertebrae, the divot just below your shoulder blade.

Spencer is many things. He’s obsessive, incessant, obstinate on occasion. Difficult, to put it bluntly. But despite all that, despite his complications, he’s here, touching, trusting, because for the first time in his life, it feels good.

“Moonless earth theory,” he says, moving to accommodate when you decide to lie on your side. Face to face, in hazy, dimmed light. He stares. “Okay, Abian, Alexander Abian, claimed that blowing up the moon would solve every problem in existence.”

Selfishly, unabashed, he slips his hand beneath your top to trace halos across your skin. “It’s so dumb. If that happened, tides would decrease. And, and, the moon's presence has a partial correcting effect on any instabilaties that arise in a non-homogenous, non-symmetrical—“ he sighs, presses his lips together for a moment, “Basically, the earth would wobble. Which… uh, isn’t very good?”

You’re still half-asleep, dreary to his random information. It takes a moment for your brain to settle, to comprehend what he’s saying, and then another, longer moment, to respond.

“Mhm. Days would be shorter,” you respond before laughing. “This is what you think about when you’ve just woken up? I’m basically a walking lobotomy until at least 10AM. And that’s providing I have a shower, feed my caffeine dependency, et cetera et cetera.”

You look at him, observe the sight: tousled hair, swollen lips half-parted, dilated, heavy-lidded eyes that stare back back back.

“I think about a lot of things in the morning,” he mutters, “A lot of things in general.”

When he leans in to kiss you, it’s languid, slow, he’s still in stasis, a state of suspended animation. Tenderly, as if the contact could break, he parts your lips with his own, his breath warm against your mouth, slow, like he wants your touch burnt into him.

Inevitably, your tongue slides against his, and he moans. Hot. It’s so slow, slow enough that time feels warped, nonexistent, like the universe has just stopped without warning.

He feels you shifting, the movement subtle, legs intertwining, hips flush. Good. So good. His lips break away, only to find their way across a cheek, along the column of your throat, further, over the curve of your collarbone.

He’s pressing kisses anywhere his body allows, touch lingering against your skin, tracing invisible imprints. “Sometimes, well.. um, most of the time, I think about you.”

He laughs, shifting to press his forehead against yours. “It’s a huge interference on my routine. And yeah, there’s also the facts, and the statistics. But then my mind will betray me, and i’ll just think about how you might respond, if I told you them.”

This information isn’t exactly new; you’ve woken up to random, impromptu messages regarding space, earth, philosophy, facts that you can never quite place at such an early hour. Then, there’s the phone calls, the dumb, domestic phone calls, ringing you just to over-explain some new hypothesis he’s studying.

Starry-eyed ambition. Sometimes it hurts to think that the job, the BAU, the nature of the cases, will inevitably warp his softness.

You cup his face, palm pressed against cheek, watching as he melts, molten gold, into the contact. “Yknow, I’d really like to study you in a lab.”

“Mm,” he hums, a sound that translates to please don’t put me in a lab.

His hand wraps around your wrist, preserving the contact, holding onto it like there’s a possibility, an actual chance, fact and figure, that he could lose it.

“I’d just be your lab rat? And they say romance is dead,” he scoffs, “You would commit so much medical malpractice.”

“Pft, medical malpractice. That’s made up,” you silence his protests before they can leave his lips. “I think it would be fun to preform experiments on you. Though, i’m not sure I should be trusted with a scalpel. A law probably needs to be put in place. Yknow, for the safety of the people.”

“Ah, ha.” he’s quick to respond, “It’s the scalpel you’re worried about? You’re forgetting the needle, the drugs, the restraints? You cannot be trusted, you’re a danger to society,”

Spencer pouts, features creased. “And your idea of a fun Saturday morning is committing violent acts against your oh so innocent boyfriend. I see, I see where your priorities lie.”

You grin, press a light kiss to his cheek. It’s soft, tentative contact, and yet he still shivers. No dignity. “Sorry, sorry. What was that last part of your sentence? I zoned out after you said restraints.”

“Right. That’s uh, well. That wasn’t the point I was… trying… to make?”

“Yeah, yeah. Medical malpractice. Evil girlfriend. I get it. You’ve made your point. I am very very ashamed of my hypothetical actions.” you say, hooking your leg around his waist, drawing him onto his back. Spine meeting mattress, your body on top now, straddling him.

You hike up his sweater, running your hand across his torso. There’s something obscene to the way he blushes, draping an arm over his face, as if your movements physically pain him.

“Stop acting coy. I’ve seen you in this position before. Worse ones, if we’re going to be honest here—“

“Hey, hey, hey— I’m not acting coy!" he protests, unconvincingly. He’s breathless, attempting to hide the way his body reacts. As if the slight friction warranted from the movement doesn’t grant him fleeting bliss.

The contact is intense, fervent, your body flush with his. “We really really don’t need to talk about the other occasions.” his eyes shut, head falling back against sheets, lips parted, hands gripping the skin of your hips.

“You’re uh, you’re really unfair,” he mumbles, “And beautiful. I should tell you that more often.”

“You tell me every day.”

Moving off his lap, he’s accommodating as you help to untangle clothes from his body, raising his hips when needed, lifting his arms when necessary. Your touch has him compliant, obedient, eager to fall pliant, beneath you. The sight, god: slender, pale skin, faint blemishes staining his thighs from previous nights, matching with the few that adorn his neck.

“I don’t say it enough, then.”

You laugh, “Oh, you’re such a sap.”

It’s a process: getting Spencer to sit up. Because he doesn’t seem to comprehend your intentions, to realise what you’re trying to imply here. Still, when he’s finally perched on the edge of the bed, you rise, shifting to stand between his legs, to look down at the picture of him, bare, undone, so pretty just for you.

He stares up, eyes wide like marbles. “Hi.”

You card your hand through his hair, strands falling between crevices in your fingers. It’s soft, the movement, the gesture, you’re not sinking down to the root yet. “Hi.”

Your name falls from his lips. And yeah, there’s something reverent to the way he says it, the pained whisper. Something that dissolves into a messy, unrefined whimper when you sink to your knees.

“Oh, god. I—,” he swallows, his voice rough. “I, I love you so much.”

There’s this repeated question on your mind, the same one that loops into existence every time you’re in a compromising position: how loud is Spencer going to be today? Because, objectively, he’s loud. It demeans, ruins the chances of abrupt, clandestine touches in semi-public places. In sneaking around. Even when you’ve got your palm against his mouth, he somehow manages to combat, to prevail the suffocation.

Your lips press soft kisses along his thigh, touching those marks now, the ones you must’ve left last night. No? Maybe yesterday afternoon? It’s hard to keep track. “I love you.”

He melts.

“Such a pretty cock. All for me, hm?” jesus christ. You’ve always been so blunt, outward, inherently shameless. Spencer thinks he might die, divine madness. Theia mania.

When you drag your tongue along the length of his cock, there’s a current, sharp, sending his hips bucking. They arch forward, into you, into the contact. Sight shuttered by swollen eyes, he thinks about regulating his breathing, inhale, exhale, the concept falls on deaf ears.

“All yours,” he whimpers, “Yes. Only,.. only you. Always.”

It feels like devotion. The way he confirms vocally, the way you sink down, take him deep into your mouth. His head spills backwards, baring his neck, indiscernible noises bleeding through the open air, sunlight touching his skin, highlighting his intemperate demeanour in diluted canary.

He’ll apologise to the neighbours later.

Shaky, fumbling hands reach out to brush loose strands of hair from your face, to grip, the pads of his fingers meeting your scalp. He would never push, he just needs something firm, solid, tangible to hold onto.

And when you hum around him, just to mess with him, just to hear those sounds, to draw those pleasure-soaked, beautiful noises out of his mouth—

“Oh, oh oh— that’s, yeah. Mhm, yeah. Just… ruin me.” he’d probably thankyou after. Because he’s polite.

You draw back from the contact to catch your breath. Lips stained, now bruising, emitting soft little gasps. There’s tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, reducing your vision to a distorted haze. Blurry traces of reality that all seem so inconsequential now, now that you’re here.

“I love the way you sound for me, Spence. So pretty.”

“Well,” he huffs out a breath, “I’m uh, being taken care of… very well.”

You lean forward to press a kiss against his tip, as if that’s the most innocent, innocuous gesture imaginable. “You deserve it.” your nails run across his thigh, leaving faint white lines in their path. “Exploding that genius brain of yours yet?”

“That shattered the moment you got down on your knees. Maybe, um… okay, possibly earlier.”

“Earlier?”

“Way earlier..”

He whimpers when you drag your tongue across his tip. There’s a plethora of please please please he shamelessly emits, only somewhat satiated when your lips are wrapped around his cock, when you’re demolishing his sanity, and everything else in the process.

He doesn’t even realise how lewd he is, most of the time. It’s not like he’s making a deliberate effort, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to attain that skill anyway. It’s just… him, raw and unbridled, so delirious from pleasure.

His eyes, dilated, gone, are half-lidded, watching you through thick curls of messy hair, damp with sweat and morning light.

“I’m trying, I’m trying so hard,” he moans, and then words are destroyed, obliterated, as you gag, taking him down to the hilt. “Oh,” he says, “Oh.”

It never lasts long. Not where he’s concerned. Features creased, pleading, you have to restrain him from bucking, nails burning crescent marks into his skin. “Please— please, ‘m gonna…”

He looks done. You hum, oh, silent confirmation, the vibrations stimulate his cock, and then he’s shapeshifting, morphing, transcending into something blissfully gone, releasing deep into your throat.

The orgasm has him ruined, undone. Barely conscious, just floating like something inviolable.

Afterward, he’s urging you to drink water, soft kisses pressed down the curve of your neck as you both readjust. When his phone, his outdated, underused phone lights up, artificial haze, he curses Prometheus for giving humans fire, for hiding it in a stalk of funnel and allowing them to inevitably create technology.

The phone gets locked away in his drawer. He’s half-scared of it anyway.

Spencer has never quite understood the appeal of mornings, but he’s starting to see the merit in them, with you. He’ll tell you that sometime, maybe. One day. Soon.

Right now, however, he descends down your body, lips dragging a path from collarbone to the space between your thighs, where he actively groans.

“Best Saturday morning ever,” you remark, helping him to remove your shorts, then the offending panties that prevent his mouth from working you to ruin.

It’s almost domestic, the way you mirror his actions, feeding your hands through his hair, supporting him as he slips a pillow beneath your hips. Sprawled out across tangled sheets, flushed and restless, you let out an appreciative sigh at the reciprocation.

“Definitely,” he agrees, blowing cold air against your core, just to watch the way you curve, contort. “Though, uh… every morning with you is the best morning ever.” It’s dumb, and god he’s blushing between your thighs.

But, Spencer likes to thank you. Because all in all, he considers himself a well-mannered person. So this, he parts your thighs further, applies slight pressure to your clit, is completely necessary. Mandatory, he’d argue. Something that needs to be embedded into daily routine.

Usually, it’s a slow, methodical process. He can be a perfectionist, a completionist, but he doesn’t mind. He trails his tongue across the inner sections of your thighs, to catch the wetness that stains your skin there.

“You are so perfect,” he regards, pressing a kiss to your clit, mirroring your actions. “So pretty. The prettiest— i’m going to, yeah..”

His tongue moves in languid circles, in soft, calculated motions, before finally delving inside of you, tasting you, drawing a moan, a plea, a muffled prayer from your lips. Okay, alright, maybe his lips too.

“I could do this all day, I want to, I—“ And he doesn’t really have to finish the sentence, because you know him too well, and it’s implied. Implied that he’d spend ceaseless hours here without complaint, oh far from complaint.

He likes to have something to focus on. A task to preform. It distracts his mind, and this one? Yeah, it reduces his thoughts to only you.

If he had it his way, his current mental state would be permanent.

“On your back, pretty boy..” you watch with soft eyes as he mindlessly obeys. Legs bent, pressed against the mattress, you sink down onto his face, getting off from a new angle. Your back instinctively curves, arches, a series of warped moans ripped straight from your throat.

“Just like that— mhm..” you mutter, gripping his hair tighter now, mostly for stability. It’s hard to look down, to see the obscene sight he’s been demeaned to.

His thoughts are always haywire, spitballing off one another. It’s a constant cycle of overthinking, over-analyzing, brain fried beyond reason. But you? You make him feel grounded, tethered, to the very world itself. You’re the one constant that he can predict, and yet, oxymoronically, still so unpredictable in the same breath.

So human..

When you begin to rock against his face, to take the initiative, using him, he simply reaches down, hands trailing across his overstimulated body to stroke himself because of course he’s hard again. How could he not be? He’s at the altar of your body, and god he knows how to serve.

Spencer’s pretty certain he’s forgotten how to breathe, and it’s a hard, harsh gasp when he has the chance to drag air into his lungs — before diving back down to you, because yeah he needs it, he needs you.

It’s messy, muffled whimpers, and desperate sounds emitted from both of your mouths. A constant onslaught of him, his tongue working halos against your clit. When he comes, he’s got his face buried into your heat, obstructing all of his senses. Delirious. Pussy-drunk.

There. There. There. He makes sure to prolong the pleasure, to work you through the bleeding mess of stars, and cosmos, and heavenly bliss, until you’re squirming away from overstimulation.

There’s a set routine when it comes to aftercare. One that both of you fail to adhere to, every. single. time. You’re both firm, assertive, in the belief that you should be the one to look after the other, so it ends up being a lazy, mutual act. Showering, the way he buries his face into your shoulder, naked body pressed against naked body. Hydration, soft touches, muttered words that help you return from the astral plane.

“I can’t believe we’re getting back into bed,” you say after you’ve changed the sheets, traded your ruined clothes for fresh pyjamas. You’re wearing Spencer’s shirt, fumbling buttons, half sealed, exposing your collarbone, draping over your shoulder when you preform any sort of physical movement that requires arms.

“No complaints though.” by nature, your body finds his beneath blankets. “I’d happily rot here. They could make a shitty reality show, it would be good entertainment.”

“I think I’d get fired from the BAU,” he protests, “You know, the first reality TV show aired in 1948. Candid Camera, on ABC, the premise was uh… hidden-cameras? So, yeah, the usual invasion of privacy, sounds entertaining.”

“Mhm. Sounds like something you’d hate.”

You’re lying face to face, arms draped over each other. The Lovers of Valadro position, he calls it. You’re not sure if that’s romantic, or slightly morbid.

“Here’s the plan,” you press your forehead to his, staring at those doe-wide eyes, “We’re going back to sleep. Then, I guess you can be a rule-abiding FBI agent, or whatever, and finish up your reports. As long as you’re done by 4. Because I want to see a movie,” he laughs, in that knowing way. “Yes, yes, i’m aware it’s your turn. Which means we’re gonna end up watching some documentary. Just uh? Make it space themed, yeah? Or, dinosaurs. I can settle for dinosaurs.”

His lips meet yours, abruptly, and he’s grinning into the contact. “I love you so much. I, we, still need to watch MoonWalk One. The Mars Underground, um.. The Valley of the T-Rex? There’s another that I read about yesterday. The Universe at the Edge of Knowledge. Oh, or Dark Universe. You’ll really like Dark Universe, and Edge of Knowledge has this, this cool segment on —“

“Okay, nerd.” you laugh, “Whatever one you want, we’ll watch. I’m still halfway through Paleoworld right now, 30 episodes in.” he knows that, because you’ll message him through the duration, make use out of that untouched (borderline) dusty phone he neglects.

He intertwines your fingers, presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “Yup. Yup. Whatever. Can we nap now?”

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ickytreats · 19 hours ago

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Black Friday? No. Free use little girl for the day.

My poor cunnie would be a wreck after.

Being woken up in the middle of the night by Little Bro fucking me. He couldn't even wait till morning as he needily pound my cunnie. He can never wait and is more spoiled than me. Even after he cums he keeps fucking me like a bunny in heat.

Once I wake up in the morning, I'm pulled into a kiss by Big Sis telling me good morning. Pinned to the wall she holds a tight grip on my neck while kissing me. Pushing me to my knees and making me give her head, I'm not allowed to get up and start my day until she cums making me gag on her cock as I swallow it all.

Next is Big Brother, he calls me down into his old room and I'm roughly pinned to the floor. He was always so mean when this day came. Like he's been pent up all year, spanking my bottom as he fucks me. Making sure to leave all the marks and bruises he can. Even making me cry a little, doesn't even take me to the bed. All the family enjoys this day but Big Bro makes sure to show it.

Lying in the living room tired from Big Bro. Mom makes her way over and says nothing as she grabs the remote. I go to argue but she's lifting her dress and sitting on my face, telling me she just needs a break. Making me spend the whole movie between her legs. My face was covered in cum by the end as she gets up with shaky legs and a content smile.

Each of them having another turn before bedtime. I'm in my room finally relaxing when Dad comes in quietly finally home from work. Cooing at me being able to tell I’m tired from the day but he wants his turn. Spreads my legs and kisses my poor sensitive cunnie taking a few licks before positioning himself. I’m whining but he shushes me, kissing me as he fucks me. Once he's done he pulls away telling me how I was such a good girl for him.

There were still 2 hours on the clock, I think I was done but Dad didn't move. My door opens again and it's the family walking in and surrounding us. I wasn't done, they weren't finished. Dad tells me that I need to keep being a good girl as his thrusts start up again. Big Sis comes over to sit on my face making me once again choke on her cock. As Mom gets ready to Eiffel Tower Big and Little Bro.

We only Did it once a year but they loved it. Maybe they could convince me to do it for other holidays when I visit…

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alwritey-aphrodite · 2 days ago

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Pumpkin Pie

Pairing: dad!Peter x mom!reader

Part of the Charlie May Universe

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Thanksgiving is a shit holiday to me for a variety of reasons, but I really am incredibly thankful for each and every one of you, and I’m so grateful for this wonderfully lovely little space on the internet <3

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” you whisper in the quiet of your kitchen, the sun just beginning to rise over the New York skyline. You’re still in your pajamas because of the ungodly hour, but Peter doesn’t even try to quiet his scoff from where he’s making your coffee. You smile as he hands you the mug, the picture of innocence, even though you know he’s tried over and over to tell you this was not a smart idea.

It doesn’t matter how many Thanksgivings find you seated at May’s kitchen table or how many times she tells you there’s no need for you to bring anything other than yourself, you always feel a gnawing sense of guilt showing up empty handed. This year you were determined to change that, telling her months ago that you would bring dessert, neglecting to account for how difficult it was to make a homemade treat with a toddler running around, who refuses to allow you to spend any significant amount of time in the kitchen making something she wouldn’t be able to eat right away. So, after days and days of trying and failing to get the baking done, you decided it would be easiest to wake up early on Thanksgiving morning and get everything done then, before the sun came up and Charlie woke up, your sweet daughter nothing short of an absolute monster in the mornings.

It’s peaceful, just you and Peter in the semi-darkness, held safely in the warm glow of your kitchen while the rest of the world seems to sleep. Even so, you’re half asleep, having debated over and over with yourself when the alarm went off if you really wanted to get out of your nice, warm, cozy bed, before your determination won over and you managed to rally yourself, slipping out of bed and bracing for the shocking chill that awaited you when you threw off the blankets. You tried to be as silent as possible, and you managed to make it all the way to the kitchen and flick on the flights before Peter joined you, hair and pajamas adorably rumpled.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, as quietly as possible, making your way to the fridge to start gathering your ingredients while Peter heads straight for the coffee maker.

“What’re you doing?” He throws right back, opening the cabinet where you keep your mugs as silently as possible, both of you knowing even in your sleep-addled state that waking Charlie had to be avoided at all costs.

“Making a pie,” you respond, much too tired for any of your usual snark or sarcasm, and trying desperately hard to focus on gathering all the correct ingredients.

“Yeah, that makes sense, I forget everyone wakes up at four in the morning to bake pies,” his voice is dripping with equal parts sarcasm and affection, and if your brain wasn’t still starting up, you’d find something to throw at the back of his head as he turns towards the coffee pot.

You finish setting out all your ingredients, thanking the universe for whoever invented premade pie dough before turning your focus to the recipe you’d chosen, staring with such intensity it’s like you’re preparing for a test. It promises to be exceptionally easy and perfect for beginners, and you’re equal parts curious and anxious to see just how true that is.

Peter finishes his first cup of coffee and pours himself another before joining you by the countertop, ready to help without you even needing to ask. It’s not often that the two of you have so much uninterrupted time together, especially for cooking or baking together, and there’s something so lovely about it, even as you constantly feel like one long blink is going to send you back to bed. The two of you work well together, you always have, and you fit together seamlessly in the space, mostly silent as you both bask in the early morning glow of the sun, just starting to peek its way around New York City’s skyscrapers. Even with the added light, the city looks drowsy and cold, the perfect weather for staying inside and eating all day long, the gold of the sun matching perfectly with the jewel-toned leaves as they fall from the trees in shades of red and orange and yellow, making way for the snow you know is sure to come.

The baking goes quickly with the two of you working in tandem, and soon the pie is being slid into the oven and you’re hoping and praying that it turns out okay, that it’s edible at the very least, but you have high hopes.

“How long do you think we have until Charlie gets up?” You ask as you pick up your mug, the kitchen awash in the golden light. There’s a creaking of a door and a patter of footsteps and within seconds your daughter appears in the kitchen, looking so rumpled from sleep she might as well have just survived a fight with a bear.

Despite her consistently sour moods in the mornings, you always find her especially precious, with her wild hair sticking up every which way and her little body still warm from sleep. She reminds you so much of Peter, with her messy hair and her tiny little frown as she waits for her breakfast, and especially in the way she shovels cereal into her mouth like she’s been deprived of food for the last thirty years, her spoon in a vice grip. The kitchen’s a mess, ingredients and bowls and spoons all over the counter, and you know you should clean it, but instead you take a seat at the kitchen table across from your daughter, trying to hide your laughter at the enthusiastic way she eats.

Even though you should clean the kitchen, and then wrangle Charlie into getting dressed and brushing her hair, and then get ready yourself, none of that seems very important with the three of you quiet in the kitchen, the whole apartment filled with calm and the scent of pumpkin pie. It’s beyond peaceful, and you’re so full of love and adoration for your little family, for your cozy apartment, for your wonderfully quiet life you’re almost certain you’re going to explode because it doesn’t seem possible for one body to be able to contain so much affection. You’re just absolutely bursting with all of the warm, fuzzy feelings that always seem impossible to name, so instead you rise for your chair and lean across the kitchen table to plant a kiss on Charlie’s forehead before taking her bowl for her, even though she’s normally supposed to clear her own plate.

“What was that for?” Your daughter asks, confused but delighted at the series of events that just took place, grateful for the temporary relief from her typical chores and always appreciative of any sort of affection.

“Just because I love you,” you shrug as you start on the dishes, and as you turn towards the skin, you feel a little body collide with your legs.

“Well, I love you too,” she says, wrapping her little arms around your knees and giving you a squeeze before she runs off again, never one to dwell on a moment for too long.

“Do you think she’ll let me put a bow in her hair?” You ask Peter, who’s finally consumed enough coffee to be a mostly functioning person and has taken over drying the dishes as you wash. You spare a quick glance towards you daughter, lounging on the couch and engrossed in cartoons with the worst case of bed-head you’ve ever seen. Charlie’s always been headstrong, and she doesn’t typically enjoy having you do elaborate hairstyles on her, not because she doesn’t like the way they look but because the process is excruciating for her, sitting still with no wiggle room. You’ve tried everything to make the process more enjoyable for her, like having her sit in front of the TV while you brush out her hair or some slight bribery, but so far, nothing has been successful. But, you have a gut feeling that she’ll allow it today, especially if you move as quickly as possible.

“If she does, I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow when she wants to drag you out of bed to decorate for Christmas,” he responds, and you know by that answer that he has little faith in you. Charlie has been desperate to decorate for Christmas since the moment she returned from trick or treating, but in keeping with the themed activities she does in her kindergarten class, you’d decided to hold off on getting festive until after Thanksgiving. In Charlie’s mind, that meant the second Thanksgiving was over, and all she'd been talking about for weeks was how excited she was for Thanksgiving, when really what she meant was she was excited for Thanksgiving to be over so it could be Christmastime, and really, you couldn’t blame her.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” you tell Peter, finishing the dishes before leaving him to deal with taking the pie out of the oven while you try and coax your daughter off the couch and into her room to get ready for the day.

You’ve never wished for a camera more in your life than the moment you and Charlie emerge from her bedroom, her with a high ponytail and a bow stuck firmly to the center of her head to capture Peter’s expression of pure disbelief that you’d somehow convinced your finicky daughter to wear a hair accessory. Sure, you’d had to bribe her with leftover pie for breakfast tomorrow, but he never has to know that. All that matters is that Charlie looks as cute as always and has no complaints about her hairstyle, and that you’ve managed to secure yourself a morning to sleep in, at least until the sun rises.

Tags: @funktchonalhuman3

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker

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bots-and-cons · 2 days ago

Text

University complaining, feat Ratchet

A/N: I’ve got a lot of school stuff going on right now and for the next two weeks, but I wanted to post something, so you can read about the reader complaining to Ratchet about how uni sucks

“Hey Ratch?” you called from the couch.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to look at you, instead of his computer screen.

“Do you want to write my last two essays for me? I’ve done so many assignments in the last month that I feel like if I write one more word, I’m gonna explode” you groaned.

“I would like to help you, but I’m not really knowledgeable about your area of study. Besides, you’re the one who’s supposed to be learning the things you need in order to write those essays” Ratchet stated.

“I know, I know, but you can’t fault me for trying. The end of the semester is always super busy and I’m getting annoyed with the amount of exams and assignments” you sighed tiredly.

“You need to remember to rest too. You should take a break”

“I can’t, I have an exam tomorrow, and I need to finish this book for it” you said, raising your tablet you had the ebook on.

“You can take a half an hour break, it’s the late afternoon and you’ve been reading since you got here in the morning. You won’t retain information as well when you’re getting tired"

"I’m not even that tired, I’m more annoyed, and hungry, and my eyes kind of hurt…” you trailed off. “I see your point”

“Good, then you’re going to take a break?” Ratchet inquired.

“On one condition. You’re going to take a break too, you’ve been working since before I even came here, so you definitely need one” you noted.

Ratchet knew you had a hard time taking breaks, and you wanted to just push through it when you had to do something. So he always conceded when you made him take a break too, since that got you to take one too. You also sometimes seemed to forget that you needed to eat and drink. Or that you shouldn’t stare at screens for so long continuously.

“Fine” he rolled his optics.

“Good, now that we’re in agreement, can you take me to get some food? I’m starving”

“Of course” Ratchet smiled.

“Ah, that smile’s gonna keep me going for the rest of the day” you smirked. “And the food is gonna help with that too”

Ratchet rolled his optics with a scoff, but you could see his smile widening. The old bot wasn’t nearly as grumpy as you had thought when you’d first met him. It had been a couple of years since you and the autobots first crossed paths, but it felt like that time had gone by in the blink of an eye. You were finishing your second full year of university, and the decepticon’s activity had been on the quieter side for a few weeks now. You hoped that it would continue that way, because you would still rather be writing essays than trying to dodge decepticons. Getting to spend time with Ratchet was a bonus for hanging around the base. It was also easier for you to get your assignments done, when you had company. You could both just work on your own stuff, while still being together. It was nice. You just hoped the peaceful quiet would continue.

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #autobots #ratchet #tfp scenarios #reader insert #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #comfort

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yelenasdiary · 1 day ago

Note

I usually stay up late (right now is 3 am and I still have things to do) programming and doing stuff.

I thought about this fic idea and you popped into my mind.

How about we mostly work in IT for SHIELD/the avengers so we mostly stay with computers or we are in workshops. The thing is we are with yelena and in general we get along with everyone. Lately yelena has noticed that we are more tired than usual, because us being a workaholic person can’t just stop working. One night yelena finds us sleeping on our computer while we were programming/hacking, she tries to gets us to sleep and we try to deny it. Next day yelena has some words with nick fury.

This is probably bad written but right now my brain is not braining sorry

Workaholic

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader

Summary: You’re a workaholic that doesn’t realise how drained you can get.

Fluff & Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know. | 1.7K

Translations: Detka (baby)

AC: Thank you for sending this! I know it has taken me FOREVER & I do apologise for that. I hope you enjoy this! x

She watched in silence every morning when you would drag yourself out of bed to the kitchen for breakfast before leaving for work and she would watch again when you would finally come home late at night, hair slightly a mess before you’d take a shower and crash almost instantly the minute you sat down on the bed. She didn’t know what was going on at work, but she knew it was draining any energy you had left.

Anytime she would meet you for lunch or when she would see you for the short period of time before and after work, you were just tired. Conversations were flat and short; you began to work later than usual which led to you going to work earlier than normal.

At first, Yelena just assumed it was something really important that Nick Fury, your boss, needed you to get done but when she found you one night, asleep at your desk, it raised more concern and worry for you.

Yelena sighed lightly to herself as she leant against the doorframe of your office, her brows frowning with concern at the sight of you slumped over your desk, the blue light from the monitors didn’t seem to wake you, your fingers still lightly pressed on the last letters you had pressed before resting your head. Lines of coding ran across the multiple screen system surrounding you, these were things she knew she would never truly understand how they worked.

“Detka” she said softly, attempting to wake you. You stirred slightly, giving her a light groan but no real signs of opening your tired eyes. “Let me take you home so you can get some real sleep” you heard her Russian accent ever so softly speak. Unintentionally, you groaned once more, this time your eyes flickering open, the brightness of your screen making them sting.

“I..I’m fine” you mumbled, sitting up straight, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Detka, you can’t keep doing this. What is so important to Fury that has you falling asleep at your desk?” Yelena asked, her brows frowned with worry.

“I just need like 5 more minutes, I promise” you replied in your groggy state.

“More like another 5 hours” Your girlfriend muttered before she reached for your computer mouse before you could even string together where things were. “I’m not letting you make yourself sick for whatever this is” Yelena added, her voice low but firm, “you need sleep. No more hacking for tonight” she said as you watched the little arrow on your screen close down your opened tabs.

“Yelena!” You spat, “I can’t! I have too much do to and you just shut it down?!” You added, annoyed by your girlfriends actions as you looked up at her. Yelena shook her head, “if you write another line of coding, you’re going to become the damn coding!”

“You don’t get it, I need to get this done!” You frowned.

“And you get do it tomorrow” Your girlfriend said, crossing her arms over her chest. Your eyes dropped slightly, there was no fighting her one this, not even you felt your eyes grow heavy once more.

“Fine” you sighed, tiredly, “just let me close everything down properly before we go home” you added.

----

The next morning, you woke up in a panic. The sun light creeping in through the crack of the curtains, you reached for your phone to find out your alarm had been switched off. You sighed before throwing your head back down on the pillow before covering your face with both of your hands.

Yelena was giving her daggers a sharpen when you asked her why she had turned your alarm off.

“Because, detka, you needed a real sleep” she said, not batting and eye at you.

“Yelena, you made me late for work! I don’t even know what to tell Nick when I get there” you argued.

“I already told him you’d be running late today” Your loving girlfriend replied, looking up at you, “I’m worried about you” she added. One look into her green eyes and you were reminded of the worried look she had on her face late last night when she found you at your desk, asleep.

“You’re working yourself too hard, you come home and have a re-heated meal then shower and go to bed for a few short hours. Natasha and Wanda both said that you don’t even leave the compound for lunch, not even to get some fresh air. You are consistently at that desk working until early hours of the morning” Yelena said in a soft but firm tone.

“Baby, it’s my job” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yes, it is but your job isn’t 16 hours a day”

Your eyes dropped to your feet, “I know, I just….i just want to make sure I’m doing the best I can for Fury. All the coding and hacking I do, it’s not easy. It’s time consuming and I need ot be on top of my game all the time” you explained in hopes it would help Yelena understand.

“You’re not going to be on top of your game if you’re falling asleep at your desk and barely function outside of work. Detka, I hate to say it, but you’re a workaholic” Yelena replied. You cocked a brow at the blonde, “I am not” you said, making Yelena chuckle.

“You are detka, a hard, smart working workaholic” she teased, causing you to playful roll your eyes. “Think whatever you want Lena, I’m going to go get ready for work”

“I’m taking you today” Yelena said just before you pushed yourself off the doorframe, “and I’m picking you up at 5pm” she added.

“Lena, you can trust me to come home at the end of my shift today”

“I know, but Nat is dragging me in to help her with some training thing so why not carpool?” She replied with a rather proud grin on her lips. You playfully shook your head at her before making your way to the bathroom to get ready for work.

----

You and Yelena walked into the compound, hand in hand before Yelena placed a soft kiss on your cheek and wished you a good day as you both parted ways, she waited until you were inside the elevator before she turned on her heels and headed towards Nick’s office.

Nick, busy as usual was sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork beside him. His focus so deep on the document in front of him he didn’t even hear the knock on his door.

“Fury” Yelena said lightly, her accent coming in thick.

Nick looked up before leaning back in his chair, “Belova” he acknowledged with a raised eyebrow.

“I need to talk to you, it’s important” Yelena began, “it’s about Y/n” she added. Fury nodded, “come on, take a seat” he replied. Yelena closed the large wooden door behind her before she took a head on the typical office style chair. “What can I help you with?” The head of S.H.I.E.L.D asked.

“They’re pushing themselves too hard for whatever it is you have them working on. This is shield, right? Not some tech startup company. They need a break” Yelena said firmly.

“Right” Nick nodded, “and you think that I’ve been keeping them prisoner to their desk?” He added as he stood up from behind his desk and wandered over to Yelena, taking a the empty chair next to her, “Y/n is one of my hardest working IT employees, they are dedicated to their job, I admire it, I will all my IT employees would put in half the effort Y/n does. This job isn’t easy, there isn’t a real shift time start or end. We may need them at 4am if a mission goes south and they know that” he explains.

“But they are here early every day, and they leave later than anybody else. You can’t tell me that every mission over the last month has gone to shit” Yelena argued.

“No, but, like I said they are dedicated to their job. Look, I’ll have a look at the clock ins and outs. If Y/n is doing too much unneeded overtime, I will have a word to them but if they aren’t, I’m not going to get in the way of somebody who has a drive to work”

Yelena sighed lightly, “have you even seen them lately? They are exhausted, last night when they didn’t come home, I came here and found them asleep! At their desk! I’m not asking you to check their clock ins and outs, I am asking you to give them the break they deserve and need” Yelena said firmly, not backing down. “You can go a few days without them here. A few days is worth it then not having them at all” she added.

Fury remained silent for a moment, contemplating Yelena’s request. He knew Yelena was right; losing a little of something is better than not having it at all. “Okay” he said, finally breaking the silence, “I will speak to them on their lunch break” he added.

“Thank you” Yelena said, giving him a polite nod.

“You’re just like your sister, stubborn” Nick muttered with a cocked brow.

“I am when I need to be” Yelena teasingly grinned.

----

When 5pm came, you didn’t want to keep Yelena waiting, you shut down your computer and made sure your desk was tidy for tomorrow morning before you wandered the main hall of the compound. You smiled softly when you locked eyes on her leaning against her blue pick-up truck talking to Natasha, Bucky and Sam.

“What’s the gossip today guys?” You asked with a light chuckle.

Natasha was the first to turn and smile at you, “hold on a moment, are you unwell?” She asked, jokingly.

“Ha, Ha, very funny” you replied, playfully rolling your eyes as you stood next to Yelena, leaning your head on her shoulder. “Somebody couldn’t help themselves and spoke to Fury today” you added.

“Ohhh! Yelena went to the big dogs!” Sam laughed.

“She did and honestly, thank you” you said, looking up at Yelena.

“You’re welcome” she smiled softly.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #living my marvel fantasy #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #Yelena Belova x reader #Yelena Belova x you

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iichfilwypj · 1 day ago

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at your most authentic | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: insecurities, hurt/comfort! ღ wc: 1.120 love u all don't hate me <3 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7 - pt 8

Sleep crept closer, her mind drifting as the images it painted blurred with Percy’s face. He kept talking, but she wasn’t really listening. He didn’t seem to notice, very absorbed in showing off his new watch, he continued without pause.

His voice faded, dissolving into the background, and her senses seemed to abandon her. The only thing she was still aware of was the feeling of her own hand supporting her cheek as she unknowingly leaned into it, eyes closing slowly.

Unbeknownst to her, Percy had been smiling at her for several moments, watching her every movement with affection. When a soft snore escaped her lips, the watch was forgotten, discarded on the bed. He lingered, his hand almost reaching out to adjust her, wanting her to rest more comfortably and sleep peacefully until morning.

Yet his fingers moved instinctively to her chin, tenderly caressing it -hoping to wake her in the gentlest way he could. She stirred, grumbling, her head tilting down until the boy’s hand found its place on her forehead. Percy’s thumb brushed against a freckle he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been so close.

“Sleepy there, huh?” he asked softly. Lacking strength, she murmured a weak response. He smiled and swept her hair back from her forehead. “Want to sleep for a while?”

Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, but she shook it gently. “Mhm, I’ll stay up.”

“Yeah, sure. You're about to drift off on me. I’m fine with it, but maybe you could sleep on me...” he gestured toward the bed, “over there.”

She kept shaking her head, pushing herself with her hands on his shoulders until she was sitting up straight again. Her eyes were barely open, and he could see the telltale signs of exhaustion –her red cheeks, the weariness settling in her body, shrinking her down like a tired child.

But still, she wouldn’t sleep.

And he knew something wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with worry, but she didn’t answer, her eyes focused on nothing. “Would you prefer your cabin? I know it’s usually cooler here-”

“Keep telling me about your watch.” She muttered, her voice sounded painfully tired.

“What? No, forget about it, you-”

“What's it made of?” She kept pretending not to hear any question, her head already dipping again.

“Okay, stop.” He was frustrated, his voice shaking. Once again, his hands went to her face (something he clearly liked doing) with a little more urgency. “Why don't you want to sleep? Is it because I didn’t wake you for dinner yesterday? I promise I’ll do it today.”

She chuckled faintly, but that laugh wasn’t genuine. She was masking something, he could tell. She knew she could talk to him about anything –he was the one person who didn’t judge–, but listening to her talk about her tiredness must have become exhausting for him.

He’d said it over and over: ‘I don't care,’ ‘I love you, sleepyhead and all,’ ‘I'd rather be by your side while you sleep than watch you suffer from staying awake.’

And yet, a small part of her refused to accept it. Loving someone like her just didn’t seem possible.

He studied her carefully, as if he could solve the mystery just by looking. It appeared to work, because when her lips briefly puckered into a pout and she blinked firmly, something stirred in his memory.

He replayed the remarks of the other campers, every hurtful joke about her, and all the doubts she struggled with. That time she was so terrified to meet his mother that she was on the verge of a panic attack resurfaced in his thoughts, fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle.

This was the last piece.

“Hey, dreamy.” Once more, his hands found its way to her neck, holding her head firmly to ensure she met his gaze.

He wouldn’t ask if she was fine; he knew she wasn’t. He wouldn’t ask what was bothering her; he already knew. At that moment, not much felt right.

“Something you wanna tell me?”

She was tempted to say nothing, but eventually spoke. “It annoys me that all I ever want to do is sleep. Like, it must be boring being with me.” A weak, tearful laugh escaped her as she heard herself, and she wiped her eyes quickly. “God, that sounds so ridiculous.”

“Yes, it does.” His voice was quiet as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

A flicker of doubt crossed her mind. She feared he might have grown tired of her. Maybe he was just saying things to be kind.

But he kissed her forehead gently, a soft reassurance. “I don't see why that would bother you, or anyone else for that matter.”

“Percy-”

“I never planned on telling you this because it might sound... creepy.” He softly caressed her temples and she let out a small, honest laugh in return. “But ever since the first time you trusted me and fell asleep on my shoulder, observing you sleep has become my favorite pastime. Because as much as I enjoy hearing you talk, seeing your smile, and hearing your laughter…”

He leaned in close, their noses touching. One shift and their lips would meet, but he held back.

“I love even more seeing you at your most authentic. And I know it bothers you, I hear you; I just want you to know that it’s okay to take things at your own pace and listen to your body. It doesn’t mean you’re boring or lazy; it means you’re human –not fully, but you get it.”

She laughed softly, a sound that felt more like a sigh than anything else, and before she could think, she pulled him into a tight embrace. He held her back, his arms wrapping around her with a tenderness that was saved exclusively for her.

It was his way of showing her that he was there.

And she did; she knew he was there, to remind her she wasn’t alone and that she didn’t have to face things on her own. She knew things wouldn’t change –she would still struggle with how others saw her, with the weight of their opinions and her own–, and even though she had that comfort, something still felt broken inside her, a quiet ache she couldn’t escape.

“I don’t like myself so much.”

“We can fix that.”

He smiled gently, before picking her up effortlessly in his arms, holding her close as if she were something precious.

“For now, I can love you enough for both of us.”

guess who's on her period, touch starved, hungry, lonely, insecure, anxious, angry and seeking comfort (clue: it's me!)

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #my writing #percy jackson imagines

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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 day ago

Text

We're Always Shifting {Chapter Three}

Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

WC: 7.5k

Masterlist

Summary: After a small fight and a make up session, Harry and the reader stumble upon a room that finally harbors some answers.

<--Prev/Next-->

The week following the disastrous attempt to steal from Snape had been a whirlwind of sleepless nights and desperate attempts to make sense of the hollow ache inside you. Hermione, Draco, and Luna had thrown themselves into the task of helping you, their worry manifesting in different ways. Hermione had suggested Legilimency, but Draco had shut that down immediately, his voice sharp with protective indignation. You had almost forgotten what he had gone through; his main argument being it wouldn’t help with memories you claimed not to have- but you know what it was. He didn't want you to feel that pain. Luna had brought you a collection of oddities- an old mirror, a battered music box, a tattered vinyl sleeve- swearing they would spark something, but they only left you feeling more adrift.

Even Draco, normally so quick with a biting remark, had grown strangely subdued. His silences spoke louder than his words, his usual bravado giving way to an unspoken concern that settled heavily between you all. It was like they could sense the cracks forming in you, but none of them knew how to mend them.

You’d tried to distract yourself. Hours spent in the library with Hermione, feigning interest as she scribbled notes with the intensity of someone trying to outrun her own thoughts. You let Luna’s voice wash over you as she rambled about magical creatures, her whimsical theories like threads of light in the dark. And when Draco had dragged you to the Astronomy Tower, pointing out constellations with a confidence that made your heart twist, you let yourself get lost in the stars, searching for answers you couldn’t name.

But nothing worked. The ache remained, gnawing at you like a shadow you couldn’t outrun. And then there was Harry.

He’d been watching you all week, his gaze a quiet weight you felt even when you tried to ignore it. He didn’t push, not at first. But his presence was constant, lingering at the edges of your world like an unanswered question. Every time his eyes met yours, there was something there- something raw and yearning, something you couldn’t face.

By the time Monday morning arrived, you weren’t surprised to find him waiting for you outside the courtyard steps. His tie hung loose, his hair as perpetually messy as ever, but his expression was different. He looked... tired. And the sight of him hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Hey,” He forced a smile, his voice softer than you’d expected. “Do you want to skip class? Go down to the Black Lake like we used to?”

The question was so simple, so Harry, that it almost broke you. Memories of stolen afternoons by the water flashed through your mind; his laughter, the sun on your skin, the feeling that nothing else mattered when you were with him. The sounds of Draco's snark remarks about you actually getting into the water- with Hermione’s fussing about getting caught- You wanted to say yes. You wanted to let him pull you back into that world, even for a moment. But the thought of being alone with him, of facing everything you couldn’t explain, was unbearable.

“I’d… rather be alone right now,” You muttered, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

Harry stepped in front of you, his brows furrowing in frustration. “Don’t do that,” He huffed, his voice sharper now. “Don’t shut me out. It’s not fair.”

You blinked, startled by the edge in his tone. “I’m not shutting you out, Harry. I just-”

“Yes, you are,” He cut you off, his hands clenching at his sides. “You’ve been doing it all week. Hell, longer than that. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice.”

His words hit like a slap, and you looked away, guilt twisting in your chest. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” You muttered softly. “I just… I need space.”

Harry let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Space,” He rasped, his voice laced with disbelief. “That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve had plenty of space, haven’t you? Space from me, but no one else.”

“That’s not fair-”

“No,” He interrupted, his voice rising. “What’s not fair is you disappearing into your own head and leaving me here, wondering what the hell I did wrong.”

The rawness in his voice made your breath catch, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. His green eyes burned with something you couldn’t name- hurt, frustration, desperation- and it cut deeper than you expected.

“Do you have any idea how much I miss you?” He strained, his voice breaking. “I miss us. I miss how things used to be. And I don’t understand why you don’t. It’s like… the second this year started, you wanted nothing to do with me. I need my best friend back.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, shaking your head. “It’s not that simple, Harry.”

“Why not?” He demanded, stepping closer. “Is it because of Ginny? Because of Malfoy? Because I swear, if it’s about them, I’ll-”

“It’s not about them!” You snapped, your voice rising in frustration. The words hung heavy in the air, and Harry flinched, his hurt etched into every line of his face.

“Then what is it about?” He asked, his voice quieter now, trembling with something fragile. “Because I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a storm, and you felt your walls crumbling. You wanted to tell him everything- the flashes of memories, the way your chest ached when you looked at him, the fear that you were unraveling piece by piece. But how could you, when you didn’t even understand it yourself?

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t know how to fix it either.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged, but the determination in his eyes didn’t waver. “Then let me help you,” He huffed. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together.”

His words should have been comforting, but they only made the ache worse. You didn’t deserve his loyalty- not when you couldn’t give him the answers he deserved.

Harry reached out, his hand brushing against yours for the briefest moment before he pulled away. “Take your space.” He sighed softly, his voice tinged with resignation. “But don’t forget… I’m still here. I’m always here. I'm not going to just leave you behind.”

You nodded, unable to speak, and watched as he walked away. His shoulders were hunched, his steps heavy, and you felt the tears spill over, hot and unrelenting.

As the courtyard fell silent around you, you realized how deep the chasm between you and Harry had grown. And yet, his words lingered, a promise you weren’t sure you deserved but couldn’t let go of.

"I’m not going to just leave you behind."

If only you could believe him. If only you could believe in yourself.

~~~

The days that followed your conversation with Harry dragged like wading through deep, endless water. You’d catch sight of him in the halls or across the Great Hall, and each time, the quiet anguish in his green eyes clawed at you. It made your chest ache, and no amount of distraction could dull the weight of it.

His words hung in the air, a constant echo in your mind. And yet, how could you tell him the truth? The flashes of fragmented memories, the visions that felt like whispers of another life. The image of Harry with a jagged lightning scar carved into his forehead- it haunted you. But how could you explain something that felt more like a dream than reality? How could you put that burden on him when you didn’t understand it yourself?

You tried to busy yourself, anything to drown the noise in your head. Hermione’s endless study sessions became your sanctuary, though her focused quill scratches only reminded you of your own restless inaction. Draco’s sharp comments- usually a source of irritation- started feeling oddly grounding, like he was trying to anchor you in his own backhanded way. And Luna, sweet Luna, would sit beside you, offering her peculiar trinkets and theories, her voice laced with a gentleness that made you want to cry.

But no matter how hard they tried, and no matter how much you wished you could let them in, the ache in your chest remained, pulling you under.

And Harry.

He didn’t push, not at first. He lingered at the edges of your world, his presence always there, quietly waiting. But his patience wasn’t infinite, and you’d felt it begin to fray. The tension between you grew heavier with every passing day until finally, it all came to a head.

~~~

It was late one evening when you found yourself in the library again, the quiet hum of the room interrupted only by the occasional rustle of parchment. Hermione was beside you, her focus unwavering as she tackled Advanced Transfiguration. Across the table, Draco flicked lazily through a Potions text, his sharp features cast in the warm glow of a lamp. And then there was Luna, perched on the table’s edge, humming softly as she dangled a peculiar dried herb in front of her like it might hold all the answers you sought.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Hermione said finally, her tone cautious but kind. Her eyes flicked toward you, her quill pausing mid-scratch. “Still thinking about what Harry said?”

The question hit you and your thoughts came to a halt, though you tried to hide it. You hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of your book. “Yeah,” You admitted, barely above a whisper. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated is putting it mildly,” Draco hummed, his voice cutting but not cruel. “Potter’s as subtle as a Hippogriff, but at least he’s honest. You? You’re like some impossible bloody riddle, and I, for one, am tired of trying to solve it.”

You shot him a glare, but Luna chimed in before you could retort. “Maybe it’s not about solving.” She said dreamily, tilting her head. “Maybe the answer is already there, and you’re just scared of it.”

Hermione sighed, closing her book with a soft thud. “Look, no one’s asking you to figure it all out right this second. But pushing Harry away isn’t fair. You know how he is. He’ll wait forever if he has to, but that doesn’t make it okay.”

The words sank in, the guilt clawing at your insides. “I know.” You murmured, your voice barely audible. “I just don’t want to hurt him.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Draco said bluntly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. When Hermione shot him a glare, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m just being honest. Someone has to.”

Luna’s voice was soft but steady, her gaze piercing in its own ethereal way. “Maybe it’s not about whether or not you want to hurt him. Maybe it’s about whether or not you trust him enough to let him help.”

The words struck a chord deep in your chest. Trust. That was the heart of it, wasn’t it? Trusting Harry to stay, to weather the storm of your fractured mind when you couldn’t promise him any clarity. Trusting him not to crumble under the weight of what little you could offer.

Without a word, you closed your book and rose from your chair, the scrape of wood against stone drawing all eyes to you. “I need some air,” You mumbled. “I’ll be back.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Luna placed a gentle hand on her arm, stopping her. Draco simply raised an eyebrow, though for once, he said nothing. You left before their collective concern could smother you.

~~~

The corridors were quiet, the late hour cloaking the castle in stillness. You wandered aimlessly, your thoughts a tangled mess of guilt and confusion, until your feet carried you to the Astronomy Tower. The crisp night air hit you as you stepped outside, the stars above sprawling endlessly, like an invitation to lose yourself in their vastness.

Leaning against the cold stone railing, you stared out at the dark silhouette of the Forbidden Forest. Your mind raced, memories you couldn’t place flitting just out of reach. The ache in your chest felt heavier here, the weight of it almost unbearable.

“You’re not the only one who hides up here, you know.”

The voice startled you, though it shouldn’t have. You turned to see Harry stepping out of the halls, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked as exhausted as you felt, the moonlight casting sharp angles across his face.

For a moment, you said nothing, the silence between you thick. Then Harry stepped closer, leaning on the railing beside you. “I didn’t mean to push the other day,” He said quietly, his voice raw. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.”

The vulnerability in his tone twisted something deep inside you, but this time, you didn’t look away. “I don’t know how to do this either.” You admitted, your voice breaking. “And I’m terrified that if I tell you what little I do know, it’ll make everything worse.”

Harry frowned, his green eyes searching yours like he could will you to let him in. “Worse than this?” he asked softly. “Worse than watching you slip further away every day?”

You swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. “Harry, I saw something the other night. It wasn’t real, but it felt real. It was you. But… not you.”

“What do you mean?” His voice was steady, but his brow furrowed with confusion.

You hesitated, the memory of his scar flashing in your mind. “You had a scar. A lightning bolt, right here.” You gestured to your own forehead. “And your eyes, Harry… they looked so tired. Like you’d been fighting something- something I couldn’t see.”

Harry stared at you, his confusion deepening. “A scar? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.” You confessed, aspirated, your frustration bubbling over. “I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me, showing me things that just don’t make sense. And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

As the silence settled between you, Harry’s hand remained steady on your arm, his warmth grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. His eyes searched yours, and for a fleeting moment, you let yourself believe he could take on some of the weight that had been suffocating you.

“Alright,” He said softly, his voice tinged with that steadfast determination you’d always admired. “Let’s talk about it.”

You hesitated, then nodded, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. The two of you turned and began walking, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. For a while, neither of you spoke, the stillness giving you time to gather your thoughts.

“It’s hard to explain,” You began, uncertain. “It’s not just the visions. It’s this… this feeling that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.”

Harry glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “Missing? Like you’ve forgotten someone?”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “Or maybe it’s like they were never here to begin with, but they should’ve been. I don’t know, Harry. It’s like… there’s a gap, and I don’t know how to fill it.”

He stayed quiet, letting you talk without interruption, his attention fully on you in a way that made your chest tighten.

“And it’s not just that.” You continued. “Sometimes I look at people- Pandora, Draco, even Luna- and it’s like I’m seeing two versions of them at once. One that feels… right, and one that doesn’t. Like they’re slightly out of focus. I can’t explain it better than that.”

Harry tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “And me? Do I… feel out of focus?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “No,” You said quietly. “You feel… solid. Real. But it’s like there’s another version of you, one I can’t quite remember but still… know. It’s the you with the scar.” You glanced at him, searching his face for any hint of recognition, but he only looked more confused.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Harry murmured, shaking his head. “But if you’re seeing this, if you’re feeling this… it’s got to mean something, right?”

You nodded slowly, your steps faltering as the ache in your chest deepened. “It has to,” You whispered. “Because if it doesn’t, then I’m just losing my mind.”

Harry stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re not losing your mind,” He validated you firmly. “You’re going through something, something none of us understand yet. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

His words settled over you like a balm, and you felt a spark of hope flicker to life amidst the chaos. You gave him a small, shaky smile, one that he returned with a quiet confidence that made you want to believe in him.

“Come on,” He said, his tone lighter now. “Let’s keep walking. Who knows, maybe you’ll start seeing something that makes sense.”

You snorted softly, the sound startling both of you into a brief laugh. “Unlikely,” You muttered, though a tiny part of you dared to hope.

The two of you continued down the corridor, your steps falling into an easy rhythm. You talked in fits and starts, describing the strange flashes of memory that haunted you, the sensations that tugged at the edges of your consciousness. Harry listened intently, his occasional questions thoughtful but never pressing.

As you turned a corner, you felt it. A tug, faint but insistent, pulling you toward the stretch of stone wall ahead. You slowed, your steps faltering, and Harry noticed immediately.

“What is it?” He asked, his voice low.

“I don’t know,” You murmured, your gaze fixed on the blank expanse of wall. The ache in your chest intensified, sharpening into something almost physical, and before you could say anything else, the stones began to shift.

Harry stepped back, his hand brushing yours as the wall transformed before your eyes. The bricks rippled and rearranged themselves, forming a tall, intricately carved door that hadn’t been there moments ago. You exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Harry, his expression mirroring your own mixture of awe and unease.

“What… is that?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I… don't know.” You whispered in a shaken voice. Then, your jaw tightened and you turned sharply to smile at Harry. He seemed confused.

“But I know someone who might.”

~~~

The quiet corridors of Hogwarts grew heavier with the weight of secrecy, and you found yourself pacing just outside the newly formed door in the stone wall. Your heart raced, caught between the tension of discovery and the uncertainty of what lay within.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention, and you turned just as Harry came into view. He wasn’t alone. Hermione trailed close behind, her expression sharp and curious, while Draco and Luna followed at a more casual pace. Ron brought up the rear, his hair an unmistakable mess, and his face reddened as if he’d just been caught in a compromising position.

“Bit late for a study group, isn’t it?” Draco drawled, though his curiosity was evident as he eyed the strange door.

“Late-night adventure,” Luna corrected him dreamily, her gaze flicking between the door and the stars peeking through the high windows.

Ron, rubbing at his neck, muttered, “What’s this about, anyway? Harry practically dragged me here. Interrupted my… er, reading session.” His ears turned even redder, and Hermione huffed, though a faint blush tinged her cheeks.

“Reading session,” Harry repeated, his lips twitching with amusement. “Right. That what we’re calling it these days?”

Ron shot him a warning glare. “Not the time, mate.”

Hermione, either unwilling to entertain the teasing or simply too intrigued by the door, stepped forward. “What is this place?” She asked, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the intricate carvings on the door. “It wasn’t here earlier.”

You hesitated, glancing at Harry before turning back to the group. “I was hoping you'd know,” You explained softly. “It just showed up when I was telling Harry.. Everything.”

Hermione’s brows knit together in confusion, her logical mind clearly racing to process this revelation. “The Room of Requirement? I’ve read about it, but I’ve never actually seen it. Why now? Why would it appear for you?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted, your voice tinged with frustration. “But whatever’s inside… I think it’s important. I think it might help.”

Draco crossed his arms, his gaze flicking from you to the door with guarded skepticism. “And we’re just supposed to waltz in there, are we? What if it’s a trap? What if it’s not what you think?”

“Draco,” Luna said gently, her voice soft but firm. “The room appears when someone truly needs it. It wouldn’t trick her. It’s here to help.”

Hermione nodded, her curiosity winning out over caution. “Luna’s right. If the room has appeared, it’s because it has something to show us. Something you need.”

Ron, less convinced, muttered under his breath, “Great. Another magical mystery to solve right before curfew. What else is new?”

Harry ignored the grumbling, his gaze locked on you. “If you think this will help, then we’re with you. All of us.” His eyes softened, the vulnerability from your earlier conversation still lingering. “You don’t have to go in alone.”

You felt a surge of gratitude, your chest tightening at the unspoken solidarity between them. Even Draco, for all his snark, looked ready to follow you inside. With a deep breath, you turned to the door and reached for the handle.

The moment your fingers touched the cool metal, it gave way. As the door creaked open, a cool draft escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of old parchment and something metallic, like the tang of magic that had been left undisturbed for years. The room beyond was vast, its high, vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadow. It resembled a library, but not one you’d ever seen before- this one had a strange, disjointed quality, as though the room itself couldn’t decide what era it belonged to.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes that ranged from pristine to crumbling. Scrolls were stacked haphazardly in some corners, their edges yellowed with age. A large wooden table dominated the center of the room, its surface littered with papers, letters, and strange objects. Some were covered in thick layers of dust, while others gleamed as if they had just been placed there.

Luna was the first to step inside, her wide eyes taking in the scene with quiet awe. “It’s beautiful,” She murmured, her fingers trailing along the edge of the nearest shelf. “But... sad.”

“Sad?” Ron asked, clearly uneasy as he peered into the room. “It looks like someone’s attic exploded.”

Hermione ignored him, her gaze locking onto the table. “This isn’t just clutter.” She said, her voice hushed with the kind of reverence she usually reserved for particularly rare books. “It’s... research. Someone’s been experimenting here.”

“Experimenting with what?” Draco asked, his tone sharp as he moved cautiously into the room. His eyes swept over the objects, his posture stiff with suspicion.

Harry stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor as you stepped further inside. Your heart raced as your gaze flicked over the table, the scattered papers and artifacts drawing you in like a magnet. There were pieces of broken clocks, small vials filled with swirling silver liquid, and diagrams that seemed to map out the flow of time itself.

“Time magic,” Hermione whispered, her fingers hovering over a series of intricate sketches. “Whoever worked here was studying time manipulation.”

Draco snorted, though his eyes remained fixed on a glowing hourglass perched precariously on the edge of the table. “Brilliant. Messing with time never ends well. Just ask anyone who’s ever gone near a Time-Turner.”

“You think someone was using a Time-Turner here?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Not just using,” Hermione said, shaking her head as she picked up one of the papers. Her brow furrowed as she scanned the text, written in a spidery hand. “This is advanced. Far beyond what a Time-Turner can do. They were trying to... change something. Or maybe... restore it?”

“Restore what?” You asked, your voice trembling as you moved closer to the table. The ache in your chest had grown sharper, almost unbearable, as though the room itself was reaching out to you.

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted, her frustration evident as she rifled through the papers. “But it’s clear they were trying to fix something they believed was broken.”

Luna had wandered to a shelf near the back of the room, where a dusty mirror hung on the wall. Her reflection shimmered strangely, as though the glass were rippling like water. “This room remembers,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “Whoever was here... they left pieces of themselves behind.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Ron muttered, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Draco reached for a stack of letters, his movements careful as though he were afraid they might crumble to dust. “These are addressed to... someone named P.R.” He said, holding up an envelope. His eyes flicked to you. “Does that mean anything to you?”

P. R. The letters echoed in your mind, familiar yet elusive. Your breath hitched as your fingers brushed against one of the objects on the table- a locket, tarnished with age but still bearing the faint engraving of a crest you couldn’t place. The moment you touched it, a wave of dizziness washed over you, and the room seemed to blur.

“Are you alright?” Harry’s voice cut through the haze, his hands steadying you as you swayed.

“I... I think someone I knew was here.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. “Someone important. But I can’t... I can’t remember.”

Hermione placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression softening. “Take your time,” She said gently. “We’ll figure this out.”

As you steadied yourself, your gaze fell on a journal lying at the edge of the table. Its leather cover was worn, the edges frayed, but something about it called to you. You reached for it, your hands trembling as you opened it to the first page.

The handwriting was familiar, looping and elegant, though the words themselves made little sense at first. But as you flipped through the pages, fragments began to emerge- notes about fractures in time, the consequences of changing the past, and a name that sent a chill down your spine.

Bartemius Crouch Junior.

Your breath caught, and the room seemed to spin around you. The locket in your hand grew heavier, the pieces falling into place with a clarity that was almost painful.

“He was here,” You furrowed your brow, your voice breaking. “Someone- Bartemius. He... he was trying to fix something.”

The others exchanged glances, their confusion evident, but Harryreached for your arm. “What do you mean? Fix what?”

You shook your head, tears spilling over as the ache in your chest became too much to bear. “I don’t know,” you choked out. “But I think... I think P.R. was supposed to help him.”

~~~

The hours passed in a haze as the six of you combed through the room, its strange, timeless air wrapping around you like a cloak. Scrolls and letters were examined, diagrams poured over, and objects handled with the utmost care. The weight of unspoken questions hung heavily in the air. Luna, ever practical in her whimsical way, had vanished at some point, returning with an assortment of snacks and a steaming cup of tea, which she set in front of you with a soft smile.

“You’ll think better with a clear head,” She cooed simply, her serene confidence somehow soothing.

You wrapped your hands around the tea, the warmth grounding you as you turned your attention back to the journal on your lap. Harry sat beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as he sifted through a pile of letters. Hermione and Ron were deep in discussion across the table, their voices low but urgent, while Draco stood by the shelves, his sharp eyes scanning the spines of books as though they might hold the answers you sought.

It was Draco who broke the silence, holding up a stack of letters with a triumphant smirk. “These are addressed to someone named ‘Vixen,’” He announced, his tone tinged with curiosity. “Bartemius seems to have been quite... devoted to her.”

The name sent a shiver down your spine, and you exchanged a glance with Harry. “Vixen?” You parroted, your voice barely above a whisper. “That sounds... familiar. But it feels important.”

Draco flipped through the letters, his expression shifting as he skimmed their contents. “He wasn’t just devoted,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “He was... obsessed. Listen to this.”

He cleared his throat and read aloud from one of the letters:

My dearest Vixen,

How am I meant to live in this fractured, hollow world without you? Every breath I take is a cruel reminder of your absence, every sunrise an insult, every hour stretching into eternity without the warmth of your presence. You were my heart, my hope, my soul- and without you, I am unmade. Even now, I feel the edges of myself fraying, the darkness creeping in where your light once shone so brightly.

Do you know how often I find myself reaching for you in the quiet moments? When the silence becomes unbearable, I think of our laughter- the way it echoed in the halls as Regulus teased us or as Dorcas argued over some absurd plan we all knew we’d follow anyway. I think of Pandora’s curiosity, her unyielding faith in the impossible, or Evan’s snark, always ready to rally us when the world seemed set against us. We were unbreakable, weren't we? Together, we had something the rest of the world couldn’t touch. And now... now that unity feels shattered, like glass crushed underfoot. They won't look at me. Call me mad.

But it wasn’t the world that took you from me, was it? It was him.

Dumbledore.

I see his shadow in every crack of this broken life. He played his games, weaving his manipulations like an old spider, and we were caught in his web. You, most of all. He didn’t see you as a person- not the fierce, vibrant force of nature that you were- but as a pawn, something to be sacrificed for his grand design. And now you are gone. He stole you from us. From me.

I hate him for it. I hate him with a fire that burns hotter than any magic I’ve ever known. He will pay for what he’s done- I swear it, my love. He will answer for the hole he has torn in this world, for the family he has destroyed. But my rage, my grief, my hatred- they are nothing compared to the love I still hold for you. A love that will not, cannot die.

And so, I refuse to let this be the end. I refuse to let Dumbledore’s schemes, his lies, and his arrogance win. I will defy him. I will defy the laws of magic, the constraints of time, the will of the universe itself if that is what it takes to bring you back. Whatever the cost, I will pay it. Whatever the consequences, I will bear them. Nothing matters but you, my Vixen.

I will find a way. Regulus, Dorcas, Pandora, Evan- they deserve to see you again. To feel whole again. And I deserve to hold you in my arms, to hear your voice, to live in the world as it was meant to be- where you and I were unstoppable.

I will not fail you.

Wait for me, my love. No matter where you are, no matter how far you’ve been taken from me, I will find you. I will tear down every barrier, bend time itself, and defy the heavens to bring you home.

Forever and always,

Bartemius

The room fell silent, the weight of Bartemius’s words settling over you like a heavy fog. Your chest ached, the same gnawing emptiness that had plagued you all week surging to the surface.

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, breaking the silence. “That’s not devotion. That’s... that’s desperation.”

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. “Whoever this Vixen was, she must have meant everything to him. And it sounds like something happened to her. Something he blamed Dumbledore for.”

Draco set the letters down, his sharp gaze shifting to you. “And you think this is connected to you? To what you’ve been feeling?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted, your voice trembling. “But it feels... tied to everything. To the visions, the ache in my chest, even the gaps in my memory.”

Luna, who had been quietly examining a small box filled with trinkets, spoke up then, her tone calm but pointed. “What about the initials? P.R. Whoever Bartemius was writing to, they must have been important too.”

Harry hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “P.R.,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It could be a name. Or a title.”

“Pandora Rosier,” Draco said suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

The room stilled, all eyes turning to Luna. She didn’t flinch under the weight of their gazes, her expression serene as always, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes- something deep and unknowable.

“Pandora Rosier,” Draco repeated, his voice firmer now. “Your mother. What if P.R. stands for her?”

Luna tilted her head, considering this. “It’s possible,” she said softly. “But my mother never mentioned Bartemius Crouch Jr. Or anyone named Vixen.”

“But he mentioned her,” Hermione interjected, her voice filled with quiet urgency. “If there’s a connection, it might not have been something she wanted to share. Especially if it involved time magic.”

“Wait a second,” Harry said, frowning. “If Bartemius was writing to Vixen and working with P.R., then where does this locket fit in?”

You looked down at the locket still clutched in your hand, its weight suddenly overwhelming. The crest etched into its surface seemed to shimmer in the dim light, and for a moment, you swore you saw something shift within its tarnished depths.

“I think...” You began, your voice barely audible. “I think this locket was hers. Vixen’s. And somehow, it’s tied to everything.”

Draco leaned closer, his sharp features etched with determination. “Then we need to figure out who Vixen was. And what Mrs. Lovegood’s role was in all of this.”

“And how it connects to you,” Harry added quietly, his green eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

You kept staring at the locket. It seemed old, older then most things in the room. You ran your thumb along the engravings, more stars.

Mindlessly, you lifted the tea to your lips and took a sip, immediately hit with a bitter- almost sour taste. Your expression shifted and you frowned into the cup like the liquid would apologize for it’s flavour, earning a laugh from Harry.

You huffed at him and leaned forward to take a sniff of the steaming mix and your face fell, the smell reminding you of the humid musty smell of the potions classroom. Then the memory hit you, it all hit you at once.

“I have been nothing if not fair tonight, Vix!”

“You guys.” You whispered and set the tea down. “Vix. It's what Professor Snape called me. That night we got caught in his storage closet- he called me Vix. What if.. it's Vixen? Short for Vixen?”

The room went quiet as your words hung in the air, the revelation settling heavily over the group. Hermione’s quill paused mid-scratch, and Harry’s gaze sharpened, a mix of concern and curiosity etched into his features. Draco, ever the skeptic, leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied your expression.

“Vix,” Hermione repeated, her voice soft, but insistent. “That’s what he called you?”

You nodded slowly, the weight of the memory making your chest tighten. “That night in the potions storeroom... it didn’t make sense at the time. I thought it was just Snape being... Snape. But now...”

“It’s a nickname,” Draco interrupted, his tone edged with skepticism. “One he used like he’s done it before. Like it’s... familiar.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, his hands clenching into fists on the table. “And you’re saying it’s short for Vixen. That Snape knows something about this... about you.”

“It would explain why he’s been so cagey,” Hermione murmured, her eyes darting to the journal in front of her. “If he’s connected to all of this, then he’s been keeping it from us on purpose.”

“Typical Snape,” Harry muttered bitterly, running a hand through his messy hair. “He’s always holding onto secrets. This one just happens to be about you.”

Luna, who had been quietly observing, tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s protecting something,” she said, her voice lilting and serene. “Or someone.”

The words sent a chill through you, a nagging suspicion worming its way into your mind. “What if he’s protecting me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was deafening. Hermione was the first to break it, her tone hesitant but thoughtful. “It’s possible,” she said, glancing around the room. “If you’re tied to this Vixen, and she was important enough for Bartemius Crouch Jr. to risk everything for her... then Snape might be trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”

Draco scoffed, though there was an edge of unease to his voice. “Or he’s just doing what he always does: sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong and making things worse for everyone.”

“Draco,” Luna said gently, her eyes meeting his with quiet certainty. “Not everything is as it seems. Especially when it comes to memories.”

Your grip on the locket tightened, the cold metal grounding you as your thoughts swirled. Snape’s words from that night echoed in your mind over and over.

“I need to talk to him,” You said suddenly, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling under the surface. “If Snape knows something- if he’s been keeping this from me- I have to confront him.”

Ron furrowed his brow, shifting uneasily as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, alright,” he muttered, voice edged with skepticism. “But if Snape’s trying to protect you, you really think he’s just gonna spill everything the second you ask? He’s not exactly known for being... forthcoming.”

Harry gave a curt nod, his jaw tightening. “Ron’s right. Snape’s a master at keeping secrets. If he doesn’t want you to know something, he’ll find a way to shut you down.”

Draco’s sharp laugh broke the tension. “Oh, please,” he drawled, leaning against the edge of the table. “Snape’s not some untouchable genius. If he’s hiding something, we’ll find a way to pry it out of him. Subtlety isn’t Potter’s strong suit, but-”

“I’m sitting right here, Draco,” Harry cut in, his tone clipped.

“Enough!” Hermione snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t about who’s better at manipulating Snape. The question is, how do we even get him to listen? Confronting him outright might not be the best idea if-”

The sound of your head hitting the back of the sofa interrupted her. Everyone turned to you, their conversations faltering as they noticed your sudden shift. You had sunk deeper into the plush cushions, eyes fluttering closed, the tension in your face softening as if the fight had drained out of you entirely.

“Hey,” Harry said, his voice low with concern as he stepped closer. “Are you... okay?”

“Just tired,” You mumbled, your words slurring slightly. Your head lolled to the side, and you let out a long, heavy breath. “Really, really tired...”

“That's strange,” Hermione murmured, exchanging a look with Harry. “You were fine just a minute ago.”

Luna, perched on the arm of a nearby chair, tilted her head with an almost serene expression. “Oh, that’s the sleeping draught,” She said simply, as if announcing the weather.

“What?” Draco straightened, his sharp gaze snapping to her. “Sleeping draught? What are you talking about?”

“The tea,” Luna explained, her tone light and airy. “I added a touch of sleeping draught. She’s been so restless, and I thought it might help her relax.”

“You drugged her?” Ron yelped, his voice jumping an octave. “Without telling her?”

Luna shrugged, her dreamy demeanor unbothered by the growing alarm in the room. “She needed it. And it’s not as if it’ll harm her. It’s just a gentle nudge toward sleep.”

“Luna!” Hermione’s voice was half-scolding, half-exasperated. “You can’t just-”

“She needed it,” Luna interrupted, her voice gentle but resolute as she looked at you, now fully dozing against the sofa cushions. “You’ve all seen how exhausted she’s been. This will give her a chance to rest. The Galanthus Nivalis I put in will help her memories.”

“The what now?” Draco hissed and snapped his entire body toward Luna. But she just smiled.

“Snowdrop. We planted it in Herbology weeks ago. It finally dried.” She hummed blissfully. “She needs it. It will help her memories, with her thoughts. And the Sleep draught.” She muttered before turning to smile at your sleeping form as Harry took off his cloak and laid it over you. “Encouragement.”

The group was silent for a moment, everyone staring at Luna in bewilderment.

“Bloody hell, remind me to never cross you, Lovegood.” Ron muttered with wide eyes.

Luna tilted her head, her serene smile unshaken by Ron’s comment. “Oh, I would never do anything harmful, Ronald,” She said sweetly. “Unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“That’s somehow not reassuring,” Draco muttered, narrowing his eyes as he took a seat beside you, watching your steady breathing. His tone was sharp, but the tension in his posture betrayed his concern. “What exactly is this supposed to do, Luna? Beyond putting her to sleep?”

“The snowdrop is for clarity,” Luna explained patiently, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s said to bring light to the shadowed corners of the mind. Combined with the sleeping draught, it should help her relax enough to let her thoughts surface. Sometimes, the mind holds on too tightly to things it isn’t ready to let go of. This will give her space to remember.”

“Or,” Draco countered, leaning forward with a glare, “it’ll just mess her up more, and we’ll be left cleaning up the pieces. Did that thought cross your mind, Luna?”

Hermione interjected, her tone exasperated. “Oh, stop it, Draco. You’ve seen how much she’s been struggling. Luna might actually be onto something. Snowdrop has restorative properties- Professor Sprout mentioned it in class. If this gives her a moment of peace, we should be grateful.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” Luna said dreamily, her gaze flickering to you again. “I thought you might understand.”

Harry, who had been silently watching over you, let out a soft sigh. “Luna’s right. She’s been pushing herself too hard- too much guilt, too much pressure to figure this all out. If this helps, even a little, then it’s worth it.”

Draco let out a frustrated huff but didn’t argue further, his eyes lingering on you as if searching for any sign of discomfort. “Fine,” He muttered, leaning back in his chair. “But if she wakes up confused, crying, or worse, I’m blaming Lovegood.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Because that’s new.”

“Enough,” Hermione snapped again, rubbing her temple. “The important thing is that she’s resting. Let’s use this time to figure out our next move.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances before nodding. Harry shifted closer to you, adjusting the cloak he had draped over you to ensure you were warm. His gaze softened, and he muttered under his breath, “She’ll be alright.”

Luna, who had been humming softly to herself, smiled warmly at him. “She will,” She said. “You’ll see.”

For a while, the room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of parchment as Hermione returned to her research and the occasional muttered comment from Draco as he sifted through the letters. Ron, looking thoroughly unsettled by the turn of events, busied himself by examining one of the dusty bookshelves, while Harry remained by your side, his unwavering presence a silent promise.

As you lay there, your breathing even and your features peaceful, something in the air seemed to shift. The magic of the room, subtle but ever-present, seemed to hum in response, as if waiting for the moment you would wake. Waiting to come alive once more when you returned.

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