#It took me a long time to finish this because I struggled with the absolute 180 degree turn the show took tonally in the final episode

[ohwhatagloomyshow]

have been avoiding this hellsite for two weeks to avoid severance spoilers (and I saw one in the time it took for my dash to load before I could click the make a post button!!) but I just finished Oathbound and read Goodreads reviews and need to Yell About It (I have not been in the tag on tumblr AT ALL so if I’m referencing Discourse,- that is totally by accident!).

Spoilers abound!

Is it just because I’m an Adult adult reading a YA series that angry reviews about sel vs nick and who Bree should end up with make me see red. Or is it that YA readers are just primed/expected to read that way now? As someone who was a teen at the HEIGHT of this (hunger games & twilight being the biggest culprits by far), is this just…how books ARE now? It was bonkers with the hunger games and it’s bonkers with Legendborn! At least twilight was an actual romance series! Legendborn is telling SUCH a larger story and it bothers me A LOT to see readers go “yeah nick just BORES me 💅” UGH!!!!! (In that regard getting older has ABSOLUTELY impacted me because I see a Nice Good Boy and I go HIM immediately)

I do think Oathbound had some issues on a craft level. Much too long, very uneven pacing, and Deonn’s never been *great* at dialogue but this one was just…unreal. The first 100 pages existed just to make sure we all remembered what happened in Legendborn & Bloodmarked as if fans wouldn’t be rereading both in anticipation of Oathbound? Then, nearly every conversation carried a heavy burden of worldbuilding. *Everything* was *always* explained, multiple times! In my experience, everything I understood on the first read was repeated at least twice and connection I *never* made, that Bree confronts other characters with…just…HAPPEN. Just 640 pages of being TOLD things! Cripes! And a lot of really interesting things happening *exclusively* off-page! And playing around with different POVs but only for the first half and one surprise time in the last section! Needed a better editor is all!!

As I was reading Goodreads I got legit mad, again, at people writing off the ~amnesia trope~ as if the entire theme of this book isn’t absolutely central to the overarching story Deonn is telling. Deonn is talking about legacy and love and grief and how do you live with guilt and regret? And I think Deonn makes a really interesting statement by actively, purposefully, showing Bree *get stronger* without her entire soul, because love and pain *are* distractions. But Christ, at what cost? “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” LIKE!!!

Bree’s entire journey is learning that you HAVE to carry that burden! That carrying that burden IS THE POINT OF LIFE! That it is what gives life meaning!

We even see this refracted and reflected in Sel & Nick! Sel, who believes it is his destiny to succumb to demonia and so he does, even when he’s confronted with the truth that it doesn’t have to happen! That it may not happen at all! AND YET! And Nick, this boy who has grown up recognizing the weight of the sins of his forefathers, benefitting from AND SUFFERING FROM, that privilege and expectation, and believing that *dying* is necessary to make it right!

These are three kids struggling under what they believe they must do in order to grow up! Believing what is INEVITABLE about their lives even as they try to take control of it, and make terrible, life-altering decisions in the meantime! MS. DEONN I SEE YOUR VISION!!!!

[dokyumms]

seventeen's reaction to you overworking yourself (hyung line) !

pairings: hyung line x reader (find maknae ver. here)

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.6k

cw: light cursing, overworking, fatigue, fainting

a/n: i had to cut this in half since it was getting too long and i wanted to make sure i posted today! i have NO idea why i made seungcheol's so long lmao. hope you enjoy kings ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ also, i will be closing my requests so i can catch up on them over the weekend, i'll try to get them done by monday! thank you for all the support, it means so much to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

seungcheol - seungcheol is livid. you're still at your second part-time job when seungcheol calls you, "send me your location, y/n." you didn't tell seungcheol you had taken on a second job. you've never been comfortable with money, always having to work multiple jobs to stay afloat. that was until you met seungcheol, and since then he's always taken care of your expenses, even offering to pay for part of your tuition, and you decided it was enough. you didn't want for your (millionaire) boyfriend to think you were using him, so you told him you took on some evening classes.

today, you're covering someone else's shift. originally, you weren't going to, but after their promise of sending you a little extra money for it, you accepted.

"cheol, i told you i'm-"

"at class still? don't bullshit me, y/n. you didn't take on any new classes, you left your paper schedule on the counter."

your stomach drops. ah hell, you must be stupid. "y/n, what are you really doing?" he asks, almost pleading. there's absolutely no fighting it at that point, "i'm... at work. shift just ended, i'll send you my location." in defeat, you sit on a barstool at the restaurant and wait for seungcheol.

when he walks in, his eyes are immediately on you, walking over and grabbing your hand. "let's go," is all he says. the car ride is silent with tension; he only asks about it once you two are both home. "why? y/n there's no reason for you to be working another job. i'm right here; if you needed financial help, i could've helped you." he says gently, trying to maintain his frustration, but his brows are furrowed, exposing his true emotions.

"that's just the thing seungcheol, you're always here to help me. i don't want to use you because i can't support myself." you reason, but seungcheol obviously isn't buying it. "y/n, you're not using me, even if you did i wouldn't care. i don't want to watch you struggle when i know i can help." he takes your hand into his own. "don't do this to yourself, please. i love you too much to let this keep going." looks like you're quitting that job.

jeonghan - you and jeonghan are walking home from your date night. it's supposed to be romantic, you two walking hand in hand, but you're feeling the weight of the all nighters you've been pulling all week to finish your project, walking wobbily on the side walk.

"did you drink or something? you're walking a little funny babe." jeonghan teases before giving you a genuine look of concern. you try to laugh it off, "hah, maybe." but then your eyes start to droop ever so slowly. jeonghan notices, "have you been sleeping?" damn. did your concealer wear off or something? you're about to respond, but your legs give out and jeonghan catches you before everything goes dark.

you wake up on the couch, tucked in with a blanket with jeonghan caressing your forehead lovingly. "so i'm guessing the answer to my question is no," jeonghan murmurs, giggiling. "but seriously y/n- don't scare me like that," he adds. "i know i know, sorry-" you say, trying to sit up, but jeonghan interupts. "i don't think so, you need to rest baby," he gently pushes you back down before joining you on the couch. "we'll talk about this seriously later, let's just sleep for now." wrapping his arms around you, leaving you no choice but to comply.

joshua - joshua wants to trust you, knowing that you're fully capable of taking care of yourself, but he can't help but worry when he looks over at you. you've been sitting at your desk for hours now, trying to finish all your assignments before the end of the grading period.

he walks over, putting his hands on your shoulders and massaging them. "you've been working for a bit, love. how about a break?" he suggests. you turn around, giving him a small smile, "i really would shua, but i've got like 2 hours till this is due. just let me finish this and i'll take a break." he frowns, "you promise?" "i promise," he hums in response, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before retreating to whatever he was doing.

2 hours later, joshua is back at your desk, only to find you slumped over your papers. he sighs, shaking his head before taking a look at your laptop. "hm, looks like you made the deadline," he says softly, gently shaking you awake.

"you did it, love. i'm proud of you, but i don't want you doing this often- it makes me worried." he murmurs, "come on, you need to take your well deserved break in a more comfortable space," taking your hand and guiding you to your room.

jun - honestly he gets it, between his singing and acting career, he knows what it's like to always feel like you're on the clock. he still doesn't approve of this though.

you just got home from working over time, it's 11:35- you both should be asleep, but he's waiting for you on the couch. looking at you, his heart breaks, noticing the eyebags, the bad posture, the way you're barely holding onto your bag, all of it. he makes his way over to you.

"oh, y/n," you don't process what's happening, about 30 seconds from fall asleep as he holds you. taking your bag from your hand, he then ushers you toward the couch. he helps you take off your jacket and shoes.

"do you want something to eat? water?" he asks while laying you down. you shake your head, but he still hands you a waterbottle anyway. "i'm always scared when you're like this bǎo bèi," he comments softly. "please take care of yourself, but if you can't, i'll be here." he gives you a kiss before laying your head down, falling asleep almost immediately.

hoshi - hoshi is nothing short of assertive, literally showing up to your job. "soonyoung, what are you-" "do you know what time it is? i'm taking you home." he leaves no room for argument as he drags you out of your work place. you're going to need to explain this to your manager.

"i'm not letting you do this to yourself, y/n. it's late. why are you still trying to work at this hour?" he asks, frustrated. "soonyoung, you know why. i don't have a roommate anymore; i can't pay rent with one income." he sighs, "i know, but you just look so- i don't know- tired now. i can help y/n, just let me."

there's no talking your way out of this, you just let him drag you all the way back to your apartment while rambling about how bad working late could be for your health: what if someone kidnaps you on the way home? what if you faint while you're walking up the stairs because you're so tired? what if you're so sleepy you don't notice someone walking by and you run into them and fall into a storm drain?

wonwoo - he doesn't scold you, but he'll get all nerdy and tell you terrible facts about not taking care of yourself.

you're bent over your laptop, trying to finish a whole group project on your own since you got assigned terrible partners. he sits down besides you, whispering in your ear, "keep sitting like that, and you won't be able to walk properly at 40," you scoff, but adjust your posture anyway, you don't want to test this guy. smiling in victory, he kisses you before walking away, reminding you to take a break.

you don't listen to him though, getting carried away in your work. wonwoo comes back every so often to tell you that your brain will start eating itself because you haven't eaten, you'll get terrible wrinkles because you're dehydrated, all that stuff.

once you're finally done and in bed, he scolds you, of course. "i know you think i'm joking, but i'm not y/n. this isn't good for you, next time you do this, i'm forcing you to stop, okay?" he strokes your hair and gives you a kiss. "i love you a lot, so take good care of yourself, can't have you dying on me."

woozi - out of all the members, he's definitely the one who relates to you the most. he knows you'll drown out the sound of people telling you to take breaks, so he takes things into his own hands.

you're working at your desk when woozi turns your chair around and grabs your hand, dragging you to the couch. you try to argue, you really need to finish this so your group doesn't fall behind on the project, but he doesn't take no for an answer.

"shush y/n, just let me talk." he starts, "i know what it's like, i really do. you feel like everyone is depending on you, and maybe they are, but you don't have to do it all alone," when you try to dismiss him and get back to work, he's actually pinning you to the couch. in any other circumstance, you'd be turned the hell on... but he's serious about this. "listen, stop trying to shut me out y/n. i'm someone you can rely on, and i want you to. don't do this to yourself, i won't let you."

you nod in agreement. "good, now let's just stay here for a second," he lays on top of you, trapping you under him so there's nothing you can do but rest.

[itoshiexx]

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you. 

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair. 

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you. 

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them. 

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend. 

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions. 

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone. 

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear. 

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you. 

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?” 

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen. 

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one. 

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more. 

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom. 

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours. 

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining. 

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[trashytracktales]

girl hi hi hi hi i am in love with your writing 😩😩

as someone who’s terrified by getting her driver license can i request boyfriend Lando giving you driving lessons and you know, good old soft dom lando giving you INSTRUCTIONS and praising you !! You know what i mean? 🥹🥹

and ofc throwing in a lil nice smut won’t be bad idk

Maybe this way i’ll feel inspired to finally get my license

(gorgeous gorgeous girls are obsessed with cars but scared to drive 🤩)

ily T!!

Fast learner | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── First of all, you got this, babe!! Getting your license can be scary, I remember being absolutely terrified. It definitely takes time and determination, but you can do it, I promise 🤞🏻 Also, so sorry it took me AGES, but I am struggling to finish my works lately *sad sounds idk*. I hope I did this one justice though. Fingers crossed and let me know when you get that license, queen. Enjoy 🤍✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ summary ──── Lando surprises his girlfriend with a gift she can’t say no to. Despite her fear, his guidance helps her gain confidence behind the wheel. But back home, the lessons continue in a much more intimate way, as Lando makes sure she knows just how good she is at following his instructions, both on and off the track.

. ݁₊ ⊹ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ rating ──── explicit

. ݁₊ ⊹ category ──── F/M

. ݁₊ ⊹ warnings ──── 18+, driving anxiety, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, sexual metaphors & euphemisms, light choking, soft dom!Lando.

. ݁₊ ⊹ word count ──── 5.6k

. ݁₊ ⊹ date ──── Feb. 28, 2025

WHEN SHE OPENS her eyes, the first thing she notices is that his familiar heat is pressing on her from every direction. With Lando’s arm resting like a sluggish weight around her waist and his fingertips brushing the exposed flesh beneath the hem of his hoodie, which she had stolen before bed, she feels secure in the warmth they’ve created.

His nose is buried in the crook of her neck, and the second thing she notices is the quiet, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her back, his steady breathing blending with the morning silence, and the delicate, smooth kisses he’s planting on her skin.

The girl shifts slightly, only for him to tighten his grip, pulling her closer; she smiles, understanding he is already awake.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asks Lando, his voice languid.

Her body is melting back into his embrace, Lando’s slightly aggressive curiosity making her giggle. “Nowhere.”

“Good,” he presses a tender kiss to her shoulder, then another, trailing his lips back up the curve of her neck. “Because it’s your birthday, and I get to hold you for as long as I want.”

She smiles again, her heart swelling at the way he always makes her feel like she is most important thing in the world.

“That’s exactly what you said when it was your birthday,” she reminds him. “And last Friday, when it was… just Friday.”

“Still applies, as you can see,” he speaks softly against her skin. “Happy birthday, my love.”

A mellow hum leaves her as she turns in his arms, finally opening her eyes to meet his. They’re still laced with sleep, heavy-lidded and warm, the early, weak sunlight filtering through the curtains and cascading all over his face. His hair is a mess, his cheek faintly creased from the pillow, but she thinks he’s never looked more beautiful than he does in the mornings. Mostly because no one but her knows that his eyes are incredibly clear when he opens them for the first time. Or that his hands, still asleep, do not grasp her with the same strength they do at night, but have a tenderness she knows she will never find anywhere else, except their own bed.

“Thank you, pretty boy,” she whispers, running a gentle finger over his jaw, then following the pillow marks up his cheek. Lightly, she cups his face, her thumb pressing on his dimple, making Lando grin.

He leans in to nuzzle his nose against hers before capturing her lips in a sleepy, lazy kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers, tender and sweet, the kind that makes her toes curl under the blanket. His hand skims up her side, slipping beneath the hoodie, fingers brushing against warm skin as he pulls her impossibly closer.

When they part, he sighs contentedly, resting his forehead against hers. “Sorry for waking you up.”

She hums, “You can wake me up like this everyday.”

“Yeah?” Lando giggles. “I actually had half a mind to let you sleep in, but I got too excited.”

She laughs softly. “Excited for what?”

Instead of answering, Lando reaches over to the nightstand to grab a small, beautifully wrapped box. He holds it out to her, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Her brows knit together as she pushes herself up onto her elbows. For a second, she thinks he’s about to propose, but he looks way too relaxed for that, which makes her question everything she knows about her boyfriend.

“What did you do, Lando?” she asks. “I told you no gifts this year.”

He smirks, nudging the box toward her. “It is not a gift. Think of it as an... investment. Come on, just open it.”

She hesitates, much more suspicious now, casting Lando a tamed look before carefully removing the ribbon. The paper falls away, revealing a sleek black velvet box. Her heart picks up its pace as she flicks it open and finds out that inside, resting against the dark fabric, is a car key.

She blinks, confused.

The logo gleams up at her, adding to her state.

“Lan…” she stares at the key, then back at him, as if waiting for him to laugh and tell her it’s all a joke. “This is a car key.”

Lando nods, biting his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. “Your dream car’s key,” he corrects her.

Her stomach flips violently. “No way. No. Lando, no. Absolutely not,” she keeps saying, shaking her head. “That’s too much,” she adds, shoving the box toward him as if it burns to touch. “You did not buy me a car for my stupid birthday.”

Incapable to hold his laugh any further, Lando lets out a little giggle. His voice is light, but there’s nothing but sincerity in his expression when he speaks again, “It’s not stupid. I wanted to. I’ve been planning this for a while now.”

She gapes at him, her brain struggling to process. “You bought me a Porsche.”

He shrugs, reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers. “I bought you your Porsche. The exact one you’ve been obsessing since forever,” he leans in, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “Don’t make me beg you to accept it. You deserve it and I can afford it, so just—”

“It’s not about deserving, Lando,” her heart swells, but panic creeps in. “I appreciate you for doing this, but I don’t even have a driver’s license. And I’m definitely not ready to get it any time soon. So please, can you take it back?”

His facial expression turns mischievous, raising a finger in the air, “Oh, no. You are ready. Which brings us to the second part of your present,” he says, tapping her nose playfully before throwing the covers off and getting up. “Get a comfy pair of shoes on. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

She looks at him warily. “Where exactly?”

Lando smirks, stretching before tugging a hoodie over his head. “Driving lessons,” he says, pointing at himself, “With me.”

Her stomach drops. “Lando, no.”

“Lando, yes,” he winks, crossing the room to where she sits on the bed, still in shock. “Baby, I know you’re terrified, but I wanna show you it’s not as scary as you think. It’ll be fun, I promise. And if not, we can stop at any time.”

Her lips part, but no words come out, only a strangled noise that makes Lando chuckle. He crouches in front of her, taking her hands in his, looking up at her. Sometimes, she thinks that the way he does it is so annoying, because she can’t say no when he gives her those puppy eyes. She realizes, looking back at him, that chances are Lando is even more excited than she is, which makes her feel a little guilty.

“Look, it’s okay to be nervous,” he says gently, pressing a kiss to her palm, “But I’ll be right there with you.”

Her chest tightens — not from anxiety this time, but from the sheer love she feels for this man, and for the way he always knows how to push her while making her feel safe.

She ends up nodding and, with that, Lando pulls her into a lingering kiss, as if sealing the promise between them.

WHEN LANDO SAID driving lessons, she thought he meant a quiet, empty parking lot somewhere in the city. Or maybe a back road with little to no traffic. What she did not expect was an entire race track at their disposal.

It’s February, and the cold still bites through the air, the kind of chill that seeps into her bones despite the heat blasting inside the car. The sky is now a heavy shade of gray, fluffy clouds stretching endlessly above the open space of the Silverstone Circuit. The grandstands stand empty, ghostly in their silence, the wind whistling through the steel framework.

Her hands tighten into fists as she stares at the massive expanse of the track. She’s been here before, sure, but she’s never seen this place so devoid of people and so lifeless. What strikes her, though, is that it doesn’t even matter, because the circuit has the same beauty — perhaps even more alluring when it’s not animated by the roar of people and the deafening sound of engines. It’s almost haunting. She can’t shake the feeling that it’s the same place where world-class drivers push their limits at blinding speeds, where Lando himself has raced countless times. And just for tooday, it belongs entirely to them.

Her heart pounds harder in her chest as she’s turning to look at him, “You got me Silverstone for my first driving lesson?”

Lando smirks, shutting the engine off. “Had to pull some strings, no biggie.” He looks back at her, his eyes gleaming with excitement under the thick, long lashes. “I didn’t want anything to distract you or to feel any external pressure. Just us, and your car.”

Her car.

She still hasn’t fully processed it. She spent the entire two-hour drive here just staring at it, running her fingers over the pristine leather seat when Lando wasn’t looking, and tracing the sleek dashboard, memorizing every detail. It smells brand new, the engine purring under his control like a well-tamed beast. But now, as he opens his door and steps out, the reality of what comes next hits her, and panic creeps up her spine once again.

She grips the seatbelt tightly, her fingers going numb, as she watches Lando walk around the car. He looks so at ease, so effortlessly confident as he gestures for her to switch places. Meanwhile, she feels like she could throw up in T minus five seconds.

“Come on, baby,” he calls, grinning as he taps the roof of the car. “Time to make you a driver.”

Yes, that sounds good. And yes, she wants this. She really does. But the moment she steps out into the cold air and faces the car from the driver’s side, the same doubt settles deep in her chest. It’s not that she’s scared of driving — well, she is. But that’s not the only reason why she postoned getting her license for so long. The simple thought makes her stomach flip, because she knows that the second she puts foot in a car, so many things can go wrong, especially if you’re afraid.

Lando notices her hesitance immediately, and his playful grin softens as he steps closer. “Hey,” he says, tilting his head. “What’s bothering you, hm? Talk to me.”

The girl exhales shakily. “I’m not sure about this, Lando. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” says Lando in a determined voice.

She looks at the car, then at the track ahead of them. “It’s...” her voice trails off, trying to come up with the best excuse and go back home to nestle between their warm sheets.

“It’s just tarmac, baby,” Lando’s tone is calm and reassuring. “It’s no different than any other road. Just bigger. Safer, actually.”

Her arms wrap around herself instinctively, bracing against the cold, but mostly against her own emotions. “What if I mess up?”

“Then you mess up,” he shrugs, “That’s what learning is, isn’t it?”

She knows he’s right, but the fear still lingers, coiling tight in her stomach. “And if I crash?”

“You won’t crash,” he answers with the same determination yet slightly amused, taking her by surprise, because Lando uses that voice only when he is sure of what he’s saying.

She scoffs, “Sure, how do you know that?”

Lando smiles, reaching for her hands, rubbing warmth into her fingers before bringing them up to his lips. “Because I am here.”

Ha.

She nods slowly, suddenly realizing that there’s no going back — not when Lando is so committed to show her a side of herself that even she’s not aware of. And the fact that he believes in her does something to her brain; it gives her a bit more confidence and courage. She’s seen Lando drive countless of times before. She watched him, his movements instinctive, so measured and smooth that it’s become second nature to him. Maybe she can try to replicate that to a certain degree.

For her own sake, she owes him that.

“Alright,” she manages to say, her voice much tamer than expected.

“That’s my girl,” he presses one last kiss to her knuckles before stepping back, gesturing to the driver’s seat. “Get in there.”

With a deep breath, she finally slides into the driver’s seat, and her entire body tense as she grips the steering wheel; it feels hard under her touch, yet delicate at the same time. Lando follows, settling into his place effortlessly, like this is just another normal day at the track for him.

“Okay,” Lando starts, his voice patient. “First, get comfortable. Adjust your seat, mirrors, whatever you need. Make sure you see everything and, most importantly, make sure you feel everything. All the points where your body makes contact with the car, yeah?” he watches her nodding, swallowing the lump in her throat, then adds, “There is no rush, so take your time. We’ve got plenty.”

Her movements are stiff and mechanical as she reaches for the seat adjustment; she can feel her pulse in her fingertips while she does it. Then, she places her hands on the steering wheel, feeling it firm under her grip, and she suddenly becomes hyper-aware of how tight her fingers become around it.

“Babe,” says Lando, noticing she’s still fighting on the inside. “Relax your hands. You don’t need to strangle it.”

She forces herself to loosen her grip, but her fingers still tremble slightly.

“That’s better,” Lando reaches over, placing a hand on her knee to ground her.

She inhales sharply, then exhales, trying to shake the nerves. Lando waits until she goes through everythig he’s just instructed her, without rushing or teasing at her hesitation. He’s just there, a constant presence that makes her feel more comfortable.

And then, “Think of it like when you’re on top,” he continues casually.

Her head whips toward him, eyes wide. “What?”

Lando’s expression changes, looking like he’s just mentally high-fived himself for the comparison. “When you’re on top, you’re in control,” he reminds her. “You set the pace. You decide how fast or slow you wanna go,” his fingers tighten on her thigh as he leans in slightly, his voice dipping lower. “The car will respond to everything you do. Try it. I’m here to guide you.”

“Lando.”

He keeps going, completely undeterred, “Baby, I know you know how to move. It’s all about finding that rhythm,” he says, his fingers tapping against her thigh for emphasis. “It’s literally the same thing. Smooth, steady, no sudden jerks. And when you’re ready to pick up speed…” Lando grins, his eyes darkening just slightly. “Well. You know what happens then.”

A laugh bursts from her chest, all the tension snapping like a rubber band. She slaps his arm away, her face heating at his ridiculous but so on-brand analogy. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he teases, laying back in his chair, “You’re finally breathing properly now.”

She blinks, realizing he’s right. The tightness in her chest has eased, her grip on the wheel no longer desperate. Her shoulders have dropped, her muscles loosening bit by bit. Lando sees the realization settling over her, content that he managed to put other images inside her head in order to make it easier to handle.

He chuckles, then gestures toward the track in front of them, “Alright, birthday girl. Ready to take me for a ride?”

She groans, covering her face with one hand. “You just can’t stop, can you?”

“Nope,” he says after a moment. “Foot on the brake.”

Instinctively, her foot finds the pedal, pressing down tentatively.

“Now, start the car.”

She swallows hard and reaches for the ignition button. The engine roars to life beneath her fingertips, smooth and powerful, vibrating through her entire body.

At the sound, Lando grins proudly. “There she is.” His hands go to rest on the armrest, his thumb brushing the fabric lightly. He watches carefully as she moves to adjust the mirrors with a focused look in her eyes. “Good,” he continues, his voice a soft command that she knows so well. “Now, keep the wheel steady, just like we talked about. Look ahead. Your eyes should be on the next corner, not the one you just passed.”

She nods, keeping her focus on the track.

“So, this car is rear-engined, which means most of the weight is at the back. That makes it a little trickier to handle if you throw it into a corner too fast. But,” Lando pauses, looking at her intently to assure her there’s nothings to be afraid of, “I’m here to make sure you drive it right.”

She scoffs nervously, “Is there a wrong way to drive it?”

“Plenty, actually. Relax your hold I said,” he instructs her again, “Baby, if it’s too tight, you won’t feel what the car is telling you.”

“Telling me?” she echoes, glancing at him with furrowed brows.

Lando nods, “Yeah. The car talks to you, just not with words. It tells you when it wants to rotate, when it has grip, when you need to be gentle or when you can push,” he says, gesturing toward the long straight. “Speaking of. Go on, give it some gas.”

Her heart jumps into her throat, but she listens, pressing down on the accelerator tentatively. The car responds instantly, surging forward with smooth, controlled aggression. She gasps, the force pressing her back against the seat, and Lando chuckles beside her.

“That’s it,” he praises. “A lot of power, hm?”

She lets out a breathy laugh, still nervous but slowly melting into the feeling of it all.

“Next, the corners,” Lando adds, eyes locked on the road as they approach one. “You want to brake before you turn, not while you’re turning. That’s how you keep it stable.”

She follows his words, pressing down on the brakes a little too early, but the car slows smoothly.

“Good,” he says, nodding approvingly. “Turn in,” he pauses, lips quirking into a smirk. “Like the way you move your hips when you ride me. Controlled, but with intention.”

Her foot nearly slips off the pedal. “Lando, stop that!” she squeaks, turning her head for a second, just to glare at him.

She feels the tires gripping the asphalt in a way that sends a thrill through her, despite the nerves still buzzing beneath the surface.

“I’m trying to speak your language,” he laughs, “Ease off the throttle and prepare to brake again,” Lando’s voice is smooth, “Yes, keep your foot light on the brake. Feel it?”

She does. While following his instructions, gently, she eases her foot off the gas, then applies just the right pressure to the brake, her heart racing with each turn. Lando watches her closely, but she can tell he’s holding back, not overloading her with instructions but guiding her just enough so she feels the car’s movements.

“Perfection,” he praises as she hits the apex of the corner, the car hugging the track with a controlled grace. “Accelerate again, gently. Let the car do the work for you. Don’t overthink it.”

She hesitates for a moment, her fingers adjusting their grip on the wheel, before she picks up speed, feeling the engine roaring beneath her. Despite the fear gnawing at her, there’s a strange thrill beginning to bubble inside, a sense of freedom she’s never felt before. She can feel the car responding to her, listening to her movements, exactly like Lando told her it will. Which makes her eager to go faster, to push.

But as she rounds another corner, a new wave of uncertainty floods her chest, and she glances over at her boyfriend again. “Lando, I don’t know…”

“You do,” Lando’s voice is almost a growl, “Bury your foot on the pedal. See what this car is capable of.”

Her pulse quickens, but there’s more excitement behind it now. With Lando’s words echoing in her mind, she takes a deep breath, presses her foot into the pedal, and feels the car surge beneath her. For a moment, he senses her hesitation, but then the car roars to life, and she feels the pull and the adrenaline racing through her veins. The acceleration is immediate and, before she knows it, the world outside blurs, the track stretching out before her like an endless ribbon.

To her surprise, she loves the feeling.

Next time he speaks, Lando’s words sound like a whisper over the roar of the engine, “That’s it, baby,” his eyes sparkle with approval, and she can hear the pride in his voice all over again. “You did it!”

THERE IS A faint smell of leftover takeout that lingers in the air, blending with the sweet vanilla of the birthday muffins he insisted on getting as dessert. There will be a cake and they’ll get to properly celebrate with her friends at the end of the week but, until then, her birthday was a success, topped with adrenaline and excitement, which she never thought she would ever enjoy.

Now, she stands by the full-length closet mirror, running a brush through her hair, the weight of the day settling into her body. It was terrifying yet thrilling in ways she hadn’t expected. What surprises her even more is her sudden desire to get back in the driver’s seat. She’s slowly realizing how addictive the feeling she experienced on the track is, and even though she knows that driving around the city won’t compare to what Lando offered her today, she feels — perhaps for the first time in her life — ready to take that step.

Lando moves behind her right after she puts the brush down, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his chest against her back.

“So, when can I drive again?” he hears her asking in a teasing voice, though there’s a genuine spark of nervousness behind it.

He smirks against the curve of her neck, lips barely brushing her skin. “You can give me another ride now, since you insist,” Lando suggests, his voice dripping with smugness.

She rolls her eyes and, twisting in his hold, she faces him, her hands sliding up his chest, fingertips tracing the contours of his collarbones. “Sounds good, but aren’t you afraid that too much control will get to my head?”

“Not at all.”

Lando steps forward, kissing her with enough force to show her that he means every word. His hands are now everywhere — on her hips, up and down her back, in her hair, then gripping her thighs as he lifts her effortlessly. She lets a surprised gasp into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist as he presses her back against the mirror. It’s hard against her skin, a stark contrast to the softness rolling off him in waves.

Her fingers end up tangling in his soft curls, tugging just enough to make Lando groan, a sound she’s never learned how to properly react to, since it drives her wild every single time she hears it. He tastes like the vanilla from the muffin that they shared earlier, so sweet and sinful.

When he comes back to his senses, Lando brushes his nose against hers, his voice hushed but firm, “I’m so proud of you, you know that?” he asks in a whispered voice. “You’re gonna do great.”

A shiver runs down her spine, not just from his words but from the unwavering belief behind them. Lando has always been her greatest cheerleader, the one who never let her doubt herself, even when she wanted to.

Her exhale is soft as a baby’s breath, fueled by the praise that sets her skin ablaze. “Lando,” she whispers, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck.

He chuckles, the sound of it full of want. “Right here, baby. What do you need?”

She can’t use her words at the moment. Instead, she just presses herself closer to him, silently telling him what she needs. And Lando gets the message loud and clear. With a firm grip, he walks them toward the bed, her body flush against his.

Clothes come off in a frenzy: her shirt lifted over her head, his sweatpants kicked away, her underwear dragged down her thighs in a rush. His lips are on her skin the entire time, trailing fire along her collarbones, down the valley between her breasts and over the curve of her stomach.

When she’s bare beneath him, he pulls back, drinking her in.

“Want on top?” asks Lando, a little smirk hanging in the corner of his mouth.

The girl shakes her head, “You first,” she teases, already breathless.

He doesn’t answer, but runs a hand down his face before gripping her thighs and flipping her onto her stomach. She gasps as he positions himself behind her, big hands spreading across her waist. Lando’s fingers flex, gripping her like she belongs to him in ways neither of them can describe, but both agree on.

Gently, he presses a kiss to her shoulder blade, then another, before dragging his teeth along her heated skin. “Let me show you how high confidence can get you, baby.”

And then, he pushes inside.

A muffled moan spills from her lips, her back arching hard into him as he bottoms out, filling her completely. He presses his lips in a thin line at the feeling, at the way she welcomes him so perfectly, clenching around him like she was made for this. It’s hard to keep quiet, yet he wants to give himself the priviledge of being able to feel her like this a little longer.

“God, you feel so good,” he mumbles, his hands sliding up to her shoulders, fingers curling around them.

“Move then,” she orders, managing to get a chuckle out of him.

Lando’s thrusts are calculated at first, dragging along every sensitive spot inside her, pulling sounds out of her that go straight to his cock. But then he shifts, picking up speed, pounding into her with a precision that leaves her gasping further more.

Before she knows it, she’s drowning in all of it. The feeling of him, the way he takes control, and how patient he is with her.

“Lando,” she whines, voice muffled against the sheets.

“I know, baby,” he breathes, bending over her, pressing a hand to the pillow beside her head. “Just take it.”

He switches between teasing strokes and deep, hard thrusts, keeping her on edge, making her feel every inch of is length. The air around them is charged, filled with the scent of skin and something intoxicatingly sweet. Heat clings to them, heavy and thick, as if the room itself is suddenly caught in the same fever they are.

When he feels her tightening around him way too soon, Lando doesn’t hesitate to flip her onto her back again, eyes locked onto hers as he slides home once more. She whimpers at the quick change, at the way he goes so deep in this new position, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him even closer. Lando whimpers, dropping his forehead to hers, breath ragged against her lips.

“Look at you,” he can barely speak, “So. Good.”

She shivers at the praise, nails raking down his back, grounding herself in the heat of his skin. He watches her, pupils blown wide, drinking in every expression that flits across her face, from the parted lips and the way her brows knit together as pleasure overwhelms her, to the sheer need burning in her gaze. It’s almost too much for him, but the desire to see her crumbling for him like that is stronger.

The roll of his hips, every stretch, and every inch of him pressing into her it’s enough to send shudders through her body. He feels her everywhere: surrounding him, clinging to him like she’s planning to never let him go. And fuck, he never wants her to.

His hands roam her body, admiring every soft dip of her skin. One traces the swell of her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple before his lips follow, dragging warm, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, her neck, and anywhere he can reach. She tilts her head back, offering more of herself to him, and he groans against her skin, nipping at her pulse just to feel the way she gasps.

“Harder,” she breathes in such wrecked manner that sends a bolt of heat straight through him.

His body tenses for a split second before a sudden hunger flickers in his eyes. No hesitation. No teasing. Just a low, guttural curse as he grips her hips and thrusts into her with purpose, each snap of his hips punishing in the best way possible.

“That good for you?” he rasps, voice tight with control, but his pace says he’s barely holding on. She nods, but it’s not enough for him. Lando grips her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Let me hear you.”

“Yes,” she moans, voice breaking as he drives into her harder. “Yes, you feel so good, baby. Don’t stop...”

Lando finds the strength to smile at her, watching her slowly coming undone beneath him, her body arching, legs tightening around his waist. “Won’t,” he assures her, “You take it so well, it drives me crazy,” he groans, his hand sliding between them, fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling, teasing.

Her legs start trembling around his waist, and he knows she’s close. He can feel it in the way her body is betraying her, spasming around him, the way her breaths grow uneven, and how her hands tighten in his hair as if anchoring herself to him.

“Mhm,” he hums, his forehead pressed to hers. “Ready to come with me, love?”

She doesn’t have time to answer as she moans his name, a cry lost in their furtive kiss, just as her body tightens around him, pulling him over the edge right with her. His repetitive moans are maddening as he spills inside her, hips jerking, hands gripping her with a force that’s going to leave marks.

After that, he refuses to move. They just breathe, chests colliding against each other, bodies pressed so tightly together that it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Then, Lando tilts his head, pressing another lazy kiss to her lips before whispering against them. “Best student I’ve ever had.”

She laughs, smacking his shoulder, but she doesn’t deny it.

A shiver rolls down Lando’s spine as he pulls out, his body thrumming with aftershocks, oversensitive but still craving her. His eyes flutter shut for a second at the feeling — she’s still so tight, greedily clenching around nothing, the evidence of their release slick between them, a mess they should deal with but won’t. Not yet.

His cock, still heavy and slick, rests between them, twitching slightly as he leans down to kiss her again. It’s slow, languid, an extension of the pleasure still simmering in the air between them. His lips move against hers with a practiced ease, his body pressing into her as if he’s trying to mold them into one.

Then, his hand finds her neck. He squeezes lightly, just enough to make her breath hitch; his smirk against her lips is pure sin.

“Get on top,” he orders, voice thick with something commanding. His hands find her hips again, thumbs stroking the heated skin there. “I want you to reproduce every single thing I explained to you at the circuit today. Show me what you learned,” he provokes her, eyes dark with challenge.

She bites the inside of her cheek, chest burning at the way he looks at her — his lips parted, eyes filled with lust —, fueling her desire to show off.

Slowly, she sinks down onto him, gasping at the way he stretches her as if he wasn’t inside her not even two minutes ago. She lifts herself before easing back down, soon finding a rhythm that makes him curse under his breath.

“Keep your grip firm,” Lando instructs, trailing his fingers up her spine. “Don’t be afraid to push a little harder.”

She presses her hands to his chest and moves faster, earning a deep, satisfied moan from him.

“Fuck,” Lando swears under his breath, eyes flickering between her face and the way she moves on top of him. “Such a fast learner.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[yeonmuse]

— Bloodlust 18+

IN WHICH, you’re stuck with him, following his rules, obeying every order all because your father had made a binding vow to strengthen your bloodline.

( pairing) - vampire!sunghoon x f!r 2.8kwc + smut. not proofread!! 3rd pov Contains!! Mentions of blood/sexual themes/asshole sunghoon [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

Req from anon: “hi can you please do a vampire sunghoon x reader smut ive been reading all of your rockstar series and i can’t wait for you to finish it”

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @jiamini @sol3chu @right-person-wrong-time

**Jake and Heeseungs parts can be found in my library **

It went without saying that you absolutely hated Park Sunghoon, since the moment you’d arrived at his estate he hadn't shown the slightest ounce of hospitality to you. He was cold, demanding, self centered and an absolute asshole.

Of course you are forced to put up with him nonetheless, having been given to him by your father under the agreement of some sort of pact he had made with the Park Bloodline. You’d be prompted to give both your family and the park family an heir, forever binding your bloodlines and ending the decade long feud between your ancestors and the parks.

Though just because you were forced into such an agreement didn’t mean you had to make it easy, you had made every day for Sunghoon hell as well, always talking back, flirting with his friends when they’d visit, you made the simplest of conversation with him an argument and it aggravated him to the highest degree.

Today would seem to be the only day of peace that you’d be getting, being told Sunghoon would be away on business for a while, You found yourself roaming the empty library you had now become quite familiar with. The warmth of the fireplace engulfed your body, and you let out a content sigh upon finally having gotten some peace and quiet. Fingers dusting over the old outdated novels, you scanned through most of them until finding one that caught your eye. A soft hum spills from your lips as you stretch out your arms to grasp a book on a higher shelf, jumping back once you feel two arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Not quite tall enough to get it yourself hm?” The familiar tone was a dead give away that it was none other than Park Sunghoon.

“Get lost, I'm trying to read, I was told you wouldn’t be here.” Rolling your eyes you remove his arms from your waist as you continue to reach for your chosen book.

“Seems to me you’re rather struggling to get the book more so than you are reading one.” As if it took no effort he reaches for the book you had been eyeing for mere minutes now and raises it into the air.

“Tell me little one, are you interested in such a book?” Leaning down he made sure that his autumn colored orbs stared directly into yours all while you shot him an annoyed glare, seemingly struggling to retrieve the book from him.

“Oh, go on little bunny, maybe if you jump a little higher you’ll get it.” He found it amusing watching you struggle, since the moment you had moved in with him he made it his mission to get under your skin just as you did to him.

“I swear to god, do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk.” Your frustration had only grown the more he opened his mouth.

“No, but I do get tired of hearing you, little rabbit.”

‘Bunny’ ‘little rabbit’ two nicknames he has used frequently since you’d moved into his estate. That was how he viewed you, a helpless rabbit for him to prey upon whenever he desired, though when you first arrived he hadn’t expected a little thing like you to give him as much trouble as you had.

“It’d make that pretty face of yours even more desirable if you’d learned to keep quiet.” Finally he brought the book down and handed it to you only for him to grab your hand and pull you into his chest the moment you reached for it.

“You’re always so sweet and coquettish when it comes to Jaeyun or Jongseong, yet you love to make it difficult for me?” His thumb gently brushes over your wrists as he stares down at them, he could smell the blood running through your veins, and the beating of your heart didn’t go unnoticed by him either.

“Wait-” before you could even protest Sunghoon had already had you pressed against the shelf behind you, his leg locked in place between your thighs to keep you from moving. His thumb immediately pressed into your wrist, silencing you, making you yelp as his nails pierced your skin.

“From now on only speak when I tell you sweetheart, I’m sick of your mouth.” His eyes pierced into yours in a way that made you fall silent almost immediately. You hated it, you hated him, even more you hated your father for having made the agreement to give you up so easily. You also hated that the moment he gave you that command you were forced to comply.

“I told your father I’d be polite, that I'd wait until you were compliant and willingly giving yourself to me, but all you’ve done is act like a brat.” He chuckles and grabs your face, forcing you to stare into his eyes, a hunger seemingly lingering in them, a look you hadn’t realized until now.

“sweet little human, I could break you in far more ways than you know. Yet you still know how to pull strings until I’m singing to your tune.” He brought your lips to his wrist, and you watched as his tongue escaped past his lips and dusted across your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“You’re so quiet now hm? Haven’t heard that pretty mouth speak a word.”

“Fuck off.” He chuckles before his lips meet your skin again, this time sucking at the bare flesh of your wrists as he presses his knee against you, a grin cutting into his lips as he hears a moan spill past your lips mere sections after you had just cursed him.

He eyed your every move as he slid his tongue across your skin, he found himself very much satisfied as he sensed a rise in the heat of your body. As your eyes met his and you spotted that familiar cocky smirk on his lips, part of you wanted to pull away from him, to tell him off. To not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had you feeling vulnerable to say the least. Though there was no fooling him he could tell you were struggling to pull upsets together, that you were failing at your attempt to fight against him. Though he also knew you were still annoyed with him, and that would make it all the more enjoyable having you crying and begging for him to make a mess of you.

“I’ll show you the proper use of that pretty mouth you got, I’ll teach you when and when not to speak.” He forces you down to your knees, holding your face in his hands to keep your mouth open. He absolutely loved the way you looked at him as if you wanted to destroy him, like you were completely pissed at him. His thumb brushes over your lip as he stares into your eyes and he leans in mere inches away from your face.

“Go on sweetheart tell me how much you hate me yeah?” Before you could manage even one word he yanks your head back by your hair and shoves his fingers into your mouth earning a frustrated moan from you.

“Let’s prepare you, yeah?” He watched as you almost instantaneously fell into your role and he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“Already making good use of that mouth, look at you.” His eyes were locked in place, watching the way your tongue swirled and danced around his fingers. It gave him all the more reason to stuff your mouth full of him. He wastes no time undoing his belt and shoving his pants to the floor, his boxers not too far behind.

The moment he slid the tip of his cock between your lips a groan spilled past his lips. He was ecstatic. The feeling of your lips around him making him eager to explore the rest of you. He loved the way your sweet eyes gazed into his like you hated him, even though your actions said otherwise.

“Fuck,is this all I have to do to shut you up? Fuvk this pretty face?” He growls, his head falling back as he takes in the feeling of your mouth around him. Grinding his hips against your face. You took his thrusts so easily, eyes trained on him above you as you began to suck, one hand on his thigh to keep yourself still and the other on the floor beneath you. Falling into the rhythm was surprisingly easy and felt very fucking natural with him.

While Sunghoonseemed to be lost in the sensation of your sweet mouth.You on the other hand, you were a moaning mess, fingers digging into his thigh as he fists your hair and fucks your throat. The slurping and gagging noises that spilled past your lips were enough to make him cum right then and there, but he didn’t, he just kept fucking your pretty lips as if he were trying to permanently shut you up.

“Should have thought of this before you got so mouthy” Following his words Sunghoon forces the rest of his dick down your throat earning a cry from you as you feel the head of his cock excessively abuse it. He kept mercilessly fucking your mouth, muffling every moan that threatened to escape your lips. You simply whimpered pathetically, clawing at his thigh, clenching around nothing, feeling so pathetic at the fact that this had actually been turning you on. Your desperation pulled a grunt from him, making him yank your hair harder forcing a cry from your mouth which was swallowed up by his cock.

“Fuck”

Without any warning he forces himself to reach the back of your throat as he finishes in your mouth. Shooting his load into the depths of your throat, and not giving you any time to breath before he has to propped up against the bookshelf.

“Still hate me baby hm? Still angry at me?” Before you could manage even one word his lips wrapped around your lips and he began to suck at your clit. This earned a frustrated moan from you, when he treated your body in such ways there was no way you’d let out any words that were remotely coherent.

“I’m asking you a question, let me hear it.” His tongue began to lap at your folds like he was hungry for it. his nails digging into your thighs with every whine or moan of pleasure that spilled from your lips. It made him hungrier for it, hungrier to hear you crying and begging beneath him. Usually he was content with just annoying you but right now he wanted to break you.

When he was met with continued silence he removed his lips from your soaked cunt to kiss along your thighs. You became very aware of his fangs as they grazed the skin of your inner thighs earning a whimper on your part. A whimper that didn’t go unnoticed by Sunghoon, tempting him to do it again.

“Oh? Does that turn you on? You're so pathetic, all it takes is my cock down your throat and tongue deep in your pretty little cunt for me to get you compliant.” He seemed to call you out on everything, everything you tried to hide or deny he knew that’s what made him so frustrating. His eyes remained trained on your face as he continued to tease your body with his fangs. At some point he even went as far as teasing himself by piercing your skin and licking the blood that spilled between your thighs.

“Mmm, a sweet taste to match the scent.” As you watched the way his tongue lapped at your blood you couldn't help but want him to take more from you, to hear more satisfied groans as he drank from your body.

As his eyes remained focused on your face he immediately dug his sharp teeth into your thighs, a satisfied moan spilling past his lips at the taste. Your taste was addicting and it was now clear to him why the others always had such a rough time being around you. He watched the way your eyes rolled back as you pulled his hair, the wetness that gushed from your thighs all while your heart beat began to speed up at the painful pleasure. Once he had finally taken enough blood to satisfy his thirst he moved back between your thighs to once again hear the lovely Melodie’s that would spill from your lips.

The way he worked his tongue was godly and it went without saying that no matter how much you disliked him at times, with a tongue like his you could easily be put in your place.

“Fuck, Stop talking and just fuck me.” His nails pressed into your thigh, a mere warning for you to fix your attitude.

“Beg for it then sweetheart, if you want me so badly.” He forced his fingers past your folds and uses them to stretch you out, watching the way your jaw clenched in annoyance as you tried to force back a moan

“Please, please Hoon it hurts, I need more.”

"Yes, say that again..beg. My pretty little human, tell me what you’d like." He loved that you didn’t shy away from begging for it. You were his, his perfect little slut, his precious little human and he’d ruin you and watch you crumble in his arms.

“please.” Your fingers coiled within his dark locks and he watched as your eyes gazed down at him full of desperation.

“I’ll train you well enough, you’ll be able to take me any time and anywhere I please.”

“Fuck, just shut- u” before you could even finish you felt him push past your entrance stretching you out until he fully bottomed out inside you. Your tightness earned a low growl from him as he pushed so deep you could have sworn you felt him hit the top of your stomach

“Go on finish your sentence sweetheart” He continued to jerk his hips up into you knowing that if he kept at it you wouldn’t be able to say a word. He found pure amusement in watching the blissed out look on your face with every little thrust inside you.

“So pathetic, the moment you get stuffed like a pretty little cocksleeve you immediately go mute.” A chuckle spilled past his lips and he spread your legs wider and pushed your thighs back against your chest. Your moans were evident enough that whatever pain you felt if any had gone away. He wasted no time fucking into you, rough and feverish thrusts from the very beginning. Thrusts that caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head so hard you saw stars.

Your nails clawing at the shelf behind you and your mouth fell open, lines of saliva dripping down your chin as gargled moans spilled past your lips.

“H-Hoon.” The sound of his name spilling from your lips was like heaven. He immediately leans down to take your nipple between his lips while his other hand fondles your breasts. The pleasure had been overwhelming your bodies in ways you hadn’t thought to be possible. From the flicking of his tongue against your breasts every time he thrusted in to you feeling like the more he fucked the deeper into your stomach his cock seemed to push.

“Look at you pretty girl, you hate me so much yet here you are taking my cock like a desperate fiend.” Your thoughts had been so cloudy that you could barely even make out anything he had been talking to you about.

“Such a pretty little whore gonna cum all over my cock after complaining all this time about how much she hates me.” He immediately rested one hand on your waist while resting the other on your stomach and pushing down. He wanted to feel just how far his cock could go inside your little frame. This action was all it took to push you over the edge, the moment he pushed down upon your stomach your legs shook and it was a glorious sight for Sunghoon to see you squirt upon the impact of his hand. Your legs shook violently as his thrusts grew in speed and the low growls that spilled from his mouth made it all more easy for you to unravel right then and there, your cum spilling out onto his cock along with the desk in mere seconds. Subghoon wasnt too far behind as the fucked out look on your face and the way your tight cunt clenched around him was all he needed for him to spill his load into you.

He took pride in watching you struggle to catch your breath.

“Still hate me sweetheart?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good thing I have forever to fuck it out of you then.”

[hazbinhotei]

sense of style.

warnings: none

word count: 1106

summary: Alastor finally snaps after days of catching you staring at him, convinced you're smitten—only to find out you've just been admiring his sense of style.

alastor x gn!reader — can be read as platonic or romantic! thank you to the anon who requested this story! after writing four fics so far, i've come to the sudden realization at how often i use the same words. time to open a thesaurus i guess.

Of all the things Alastor expected in the wretched Pride Ring of Hell, being stared at so persistently was not one of them.

For days now—days!—you had been watching him. He'd feel it like an itch at the back of his head, a tingle up his spine that made his fur bristle and his grin quiver at the edges. Whenever he turned, there you were, eyes fixed on him, expression unreadable, so intense it made his stomach twist into knots.

At first, he thought—Well! Isn’t this fascinating! Perhaps you had fallen for his undeniable charm! Who wouldn’t after all? Alastor wasn’t foreign to the concept of others falling for his appeal, even if most of his admirers met him when he was more human-like. But Alastor was never one to judge, especially when the good graces favored him.

However, the more your glances continued, the more wrong it felt. You never swooned, never batted your lashes or fumbled over your words. No dreamy sighs, no pink in your cheeks. Just that look; the kind that made him feel exposed. He could never tell what you were thinking, his mind going into overdrive every time he saw your eyes land onto him with that indiscernible expression.

And now—oh, now, he was at his limit!

Bursting through the doors of the hotel lounge with a flair of dramatics, Alastor snapped his staff against the floor, a red flush creeping high on his cheekbones. His grin strained, stretched thin like a radio signal struggling to reach its audience.

“Alright! Spill it. What, pray tell, is so absolutely captivating about yours truly that you feel the need to stare at me like some lovesick fledgling?” His voice, usually laced with mocking amusement, had a sharp edge to it, and his ruby eyes burned as they pinned you in place.

He watched your head turn from your spot on the couch, those damn eyes of yours moving from your smartphone to his with confusion. But instead of looking caught or embarrassed, you just… laughed.

A bright, bubbling laugh that took him entirely off guard. His ears flicked back, his brows twitching as his mind reeled like someone scrambling to understand the punchline of a joke. What was so funny?!

“Oh my God—” you wheezed, trying to collect yourself, but the look on his face only made it worse. You waved a hand in front of your face, gulping down air before managing to explain, “I—I wasn’t staring at you because I like you like that! I was looking at your outfit!”

That seemed to take Alastor completely off guard. He blinked owlishly, his entire form twitching as if you had just rewritten reality. “…My outfit?” he repeated, stunned.

“Mhm. I was just admiring your style,” you hummed with a casual shrug, sitting up. “It’s… well, it’s classic! Old-fashioned, sure, but stylish. I like that you dress more on the modest side, too. Made me wonder where you found such clothes when most boutiques in Hell seem to prefer, uh… less clothing.” You finished with a little laugh, gesturing to his attire.

Alastor felt something short-circuit in his brain, continuing to blink repeatedly at you with wide eyes. He suddenly became hyperaware of himself; his high-collared waistcoat, the neatly buttoned shirt beneath, the long, tailored coat that hung off his shoulders. He had always prided himself on dressing with dignity, despising the scandalous displays so many demons indulged in these days. But the idea that you—a fresh soul, meaning you hailed from the generation he found far too provocative—also preferred a more refined sense of dress?

That, for Alastor, was certainly unexpected. And, dare he say it… utterly delightful!

“Well now,” Alastor’s grin stretched wide again, his previous frustration vanishing like smoke in the wind. “I must say, I wasn’t expecting such an appreciation for good taste! How refreshing.” He tilted his head, his flustered frustration melting into something far more amused. “And here I thought you were simply admiring me!”

You snorted. “I was, just not in the way you thought.”

“Hah! How intriguing,” Alastor leaned forward on his staff, eyes gleaming as he inspected you in a new light. “And what? Are you looking to refine your wardrobe as well? Perhaps replace those ghastly modern rags with something a bit more respectable?”

“That’s actually what I was hoping for,” you admitted, placing your phone down in your lap as you tilted your head at him. “I was gonna ask if you knew any good places to shop in Pentagram City, since you’re the only one I know around here who dresses like this.”

If Alastor could wag his tail, it would be practically wagging out of its socket.

“Do I?! My dear, you are in luck!” He hummed with theatrical flair, the excitement in his voice practically crackling through the air. “There are plenty of hidden gems scattered throughout the city. Places where true craftsmanship is still appreciated, where one doesn’t have to settle for the flimsy, tasteless garments of the masses.”

Your eyes brightened at his boisterous tone. “Oh, that sounds perfect! I’d love some recommendations.”

“Recommendations?” Alastor tapped his fingers against his chin, then snapped them together with a click. “Why settle for mere suggestions when I can show you firsthand!”

You blinked, realizing you had just accidentally signed yourself up for a one-on-one shopping trip with the Radio Demon of all people. “Wait, you mean—?”

“That’s right!” He beamed. “An outing! You and I, gallivanting about the city in search of proper finery. What fun!” He threw an arm around your shoulder as he sat down next to you, his grin positively glowing with excitement as the couch shook from his movement. “We’ll make a day of it. And you, my dear, shall be my most esteemed guest!”

It was hard not to be infected by his enthusiasm, and before you knew it, you were grinning right along with him. There was something surprisingly charming about him when he got like this—when the showmanship melted into genuine excitement, his sharp edges softened by an undercurrent of something almost… tender.

“Alright,” you said, nudging him playfully, ignoring the way the radio static around you buzzed in response to your gesture. “I’m down. But don’t think you can just dress me however you want. I won’t try on anything too ridiculous.”

Alastor’s grin widened, but there was something else in his gaze now—almost like he was starting to see you as more than just a wayward Sinner seeking a half-assed attempt at redemption. He simply shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “We’ll just see about that, cher!”

[sakurocha]

All bachelors asking you to dance with them during the Flower Festival!

hello hello!! i am so sorry this is late, it took some fine tuning—hopefully i got it right :) thank you so much for the ask, as always~

bachelors asking you to dance at the flower dance !

featuring all bachelors ♡

⊹₊⟡ sam

struggling through the Allergies™️

but he fights through it to get to you!! because he absolutely MUST ask the cute farmer out this year. this year is the YEAR

he's impressed that you can dance, too, as he watches you practice your twirls and glides with abigail

shoots abigail a significant look as she ~conveniently~ decides to go pester her dad at his stall

and all of a sudden, you and sam are side-by-side, while he casts nervous sidelong glances at you

"hey, you look really nice today..."

you simply respond with a smile and a compliment of your own, innocently unaware of his intentions

hoo boy, you are unknowingly making it VERY HARD for him

"want to... dance with me this year?" he manages to squeak out, face flushing before he even finishes his sentence

you're more than happy to accept, clasping his hand and dragging him into the center of the clearing, your carefree laughs and hollers carrying through the forest~

⊹₊⟡ sebastian

cannot believe that he is seriously considering asking someone to the flower dance

but, he figures, any time spent with you is worth much more than any embarrassment he might feel

so he just bites the bullet, finding you amongst the crowd, pulling you discreetly aside, and asks you, matter-of-factly

"dance with me?” he asks, holding out his hand

you're honestly surprised by his forwardness, but nonetheless overjoyed to accept

he didn't think he could ever enjoy dancing so much, especially in a stuffy suit of all things

but seeing the happy smile on your face has him... gasp! blushing?!?!

he’s able to overcome his initial anxiety when he has you comfortably in his arms, slowly swaying to the music

he could get used to this… ;)

⊹₊⟡ alex

tries to play it cool but he is seriously STRUGGLING

he had never had a problem with talking to you, so why was it so hard for him to muster up the courage to ask you?? >:(

pretends to be all casual, voice all light and airy when he approaches you, hands in his pockets

“you clean up real nice,” he says, tamping down the fear in his throat

but then when you look at him with your pretty doll eyes, he suddenly feels his macho return

“you’d look better next to me, though. whaddya say we dance together?” he asks, a smirk on his perfect lips

if he wasn’t so damn charming you’d be rolling your eyes

but alas, alex mullner is alex mullner, and in the blink of an eye, he has his hands planted possessively on your waist, the other guiding you in a surprisingly elegant dance as the two of you twirl together in the spring breeze~

⊹₊⟡ harvey

get this poor man a doctor of his own because his heart is RACING

seriously reconsidering his original plan, especially when he sees you so dolled up, excitedly flouncing over to greet him with a chaste peck on his cheek

and the poor man’s face burns a million degrees hotter

starts with some small talk, to check in on how you’re doing

but also to try and calm his nerves!! >_<

he finally finds the courage to ask you when you look up at him with expectant eyes, as if wordlessly encouraging him to say the words you've been waiting for all year

"would you... care to dance with me?" he asks softly

and BOOM, he's swept up in a whirlwind of your movements as you pull him over to the dance, giggling all the while

"took you long enough to ask me, doctor!~"

⊹₊⟡ elliott

has a grand proposal planned out just for you

with a blooming bouquet of delicate flowers he had picked that day, during a morning stroll before the festival

he doesn't even ask you at the dance, he arrives at the doorstep to your farmhouse bright and early

just before you open the door though, he's a flustered mess

smoothing out his hair and the lapels of his jacket

he has never felt!! so nervous before!!

but before he can even fully gather his thoughts, you're suddenly standing in front of him, a delighted look on your face

"elliott! what's the meaning of this?"

he clears his throat, finding the courage to (metaphorically) sweep you off your feet with his honeyed words

"would you care to accompany me to the flower dance, my rose?"

you squeal with joy as you throw your arms around him, letting him lift you off the ground in a fairytale-like embrace <3

⊹₊⟡ shane

off in a quieter corner of the field, sipping on a soda

he was secretly waiting for you to show up, but he acts all bothered when you run over to him, all cheery and smiley

you lovee bothering him <3

behind closed doors, you were hoping for him to ask you to dance, but you knew there was no chance of that happening

so his next words caught you completely off guard, spoken so quietly you almost missed them

“… wanted t’try dancing this year, ‘n i figured you would be the most helpful, seein’ how you’re so good at it…” he mutters just barely under his breath

you just yank him by the arm to the center of the dance, much to his surprise

“if you wanna dance with me, just say that!” you laugh, twirling around him at a dizzying speed

he was in for a RIDE, but he was more than amused to oblige <3

thank you so much for reading! requests are always open~

[colorlessjay]

hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?

BUCKLE THE FUCK UP

OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL

Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact

Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!

First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)

Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid

Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)

Return To The Past by faeryn

NOW FOR MY COLLECTION

Just any fic written by everandanon

I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic

Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian

Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)

I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend

Slide Away by Castielslostwings

It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf

Sleep Without You by turningthepages

Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)

Pinfall by crowleyo

I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON

Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation

This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79

This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up

Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne

I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it

Lock and Key by tricia_16

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good

Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits

It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD

--------------

Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes

But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh

If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives

I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun

[welcometoyunosworld]

A connection

𝐊𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐢-𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 / 𝐆-𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

𝗦𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼 / 𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁: 𝘍𝘌𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘌! 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘒𝘱𝘰𝘱, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘎-𝘋𝘙𝘈𝘎𝘖𝘕 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘜𝘚𝘐𝘊, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 ����𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 💋

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Being a famous singer and song writer wasn't just about fame or money, your love and passion for those inspired you to make music, the type of music that people can relate to, can vibe to and would absolutely love. You find ways to express your emotions in other ways. Making music, your fashion and your art. You really seek for something, anything, yet you still don't know what you really want.

When you were just a little girl, you'd be on and on about beung famous and rich, about how you'll be the star of the show. Now you're here, in your studio, staring at the blank screen of the computer in front of you as your mind won't leave you alone about your longing for that thing even you don't know. Grabbing a pencil and you sit up straight then began to write, making sure to find the right words or not. Trying to express that feeling of emptiness, feeling of being.. not enough. You feel empty, alone and.. sad.

You had many unreleased songs, most of them were songs about your struggles, pain and loneliness. You didn't plan to release them anytime soon.

You sighed and folded the paper and shoved it in the drawer before you left to get ready for your interview for today. You've been going viral again after one of your old songs started to go viral because it was used for an Edit Video of this one Kpop Idol that you were familiar with. After checking it out, you can't help but smile a bit, G-DRAGON, aka Kwon Ji-yong. Oh he was cute alright. And after that, you were listening to POWER by G-DRAGON on repeat while you were getting ready.

As you finished quickly, you made it just in time. It was bigger than you thought. The room was big, furnitures in the center and a coffee table in front, it was pretty simple, just the room size got you wondering why they need such a big ass room. But still, as your name was announced, you walked into view of the camera with your best smile and greeted the host with a polite smile.

“So Ms. Y/n, what are your thoughts about your old song that's been going viral again even though that song was years ago?” You hummed and took a good moment to think about your answer. “I am really happy that people are liking my old songs too, it brings me great gratitude to all my fans. I don't mind if they would like some or all my old songs, all that matters is that they do enjoy listening to the songs.” You replied with a smile as the host nods and nodded in respect.

“Ah what about the famous edit that blew up? Using your song for the Kpop idol G-DRAGON.” You raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I love it. The edit it amazing, my song definitely fits the Dragon himself. Very cute if you'd ask me. I had to watch it a few more times because my goodness this is the cutest man I've seen in ages.” You said with confidence and your honesty, you really found him cute, especially the edit.

“Ah so then, your thoughts about G-DRAGON and his music?” You had to take a deep breath, oh you were definitely gonna give them your 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁 thoughts.

“I think G-Dragon is very cute, i absolutely enjoy his music. It's just amazing! I just learned more stuff about him after i saw that edit of him. And he definitely ate and left no crumbs for not even hesitating to diss someone or something. His music gets me hyped and motivated, and when i see his cute face i just close my eyes and thank god that i find a REAL man out here. And oh the way he raps, god save me, i wanna hear more of his songs old or new, whatever. G-DRAGON, the living legend, ICON!” The host bust out laughing at the way you describe your answer, but he was satisfied with it and so are you.

At the near end of your interview, it was the last question..

“𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗚-𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻?”

You nodded with a snap of your fingers. “Yessir, absolutely. I would LOVE to see this man.” You said as you smiled happily though you'd doubt you'd be able to actually meet THE G-Dragon here, but a small part of you wished you would meet him, because you're already becoming a big fan of him, Hell, you wished you knew him sooner!!

“𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆, 𝗠𝘀. 𝗟/𝗻.”

Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar red hair and head scarf of THE living legend himself. He couldn't help but chuckle at your adorable reaction. “OH MY HEAVENS-” You ran up to him, but you didn't hug him. Oh not yet, you simply stood there, just admiring him which made him chuckle and give you his signature sweet smile. “Oh he's even cuter in person, is this heaven?” That only made him laugh softly and gently pat your head. “You are very gorgeous.” He said softly and he opens his arms for you, to which you gladly hugged him.

That interaction between you and Ji-yong left your fans and his fans in absolute shock. The moment was wholesome and very heartwarming. It was a moment you would never forget, especially when you even saved that photo of you two hugging. Ji-yong, too, couldn't help but keep the photo too, even printing it out and have it somewhere in his stuido. And each time he'd look at it, he can't help but smile softly, missing the warmth of your embrace, the angelic sound of your voice, the excitement and happiness he hears in your voice when you saw him.

After some days, you eventually found his Instagram, and liked his recent posts, even his stories too. You just can't help but miss him, you two didn't even have a proper talk in that interview because he showed up at the END of the interview. You find yourself smiling and giggling when you received a notification that Ji-yong liked some of your posts too.

It started off like that, just showing each other your support and love for music, until it turns into texting each other daily, until it turns into having calls here and there. It's been a long time already, nearly two months, you don't even know, you were just feeling so much more better. After one of his tours, you gave him a surprise visit at the dressing room while he was getting his hair styled. And before he went out, he gently placed a kiss on the back of your hand and said..

“𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺, 7𝘱𝘮?”

You couldn't even speak, but you managed to whisper a small “Yes..” and he smiled softly at you, feeling so happy.

You don't even feel that lonely anymore after meeting Ji-yong, that emptiness in you, was slowly going away, replaced with the fast beating of your heart when you were waiting for Ji-yong to pick you up, it took about five minutes or so. He arrived in that shiny car and he rolled down the window, he gave you a little smirk. “What a lovely view.” He said before he got out and led you to the door, opening it for you and even helping you get in carefully.

𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙣.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Aaaaaaa thank you!! Hope you like this one Baes!💋

[midnightloversmusic]

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

[kanmom51]

Are you sure?! Sapporo - Episode 8

I know.

I know it's been a bit and a half.

I know it's taken me time to come here and talk about the last episode.

I've been digesting, totally in the feels, and trying to recover.

The photobook, JM's little piece of information regarding his whereabouts night before Jeju and the pic. OMG, that JK marked by JM pic. The more you think about it the crazier it gets. That they actually did that and that the photo made it's way into the book (not to mention us knowing that JM has that pic he took of JK on his phone). All quite a distraction from me working through my thoughts about the episode. A welcomed distraction, but a distraction none the less.

This last episode we got of their Sapporo trip was an emotional rollercoaster. Not only for JK and JM. The level of Joy on the one hand. Seeing them so very happy. And them allowing us to see even more of them and their happiness. Like JM said:

Thinking again about what he said here... and then going back to this:

Yeah, I know he was talking about their Sapporo trip, but you know that this isn't the first time we saw JM wanting to claim his territory.

I know I don't have to point out where JM was pointing where he was going to be writing "Jimin", right?

So, this too is something JM does at home? Just a thought, lol.

And then those two just had to kill me. I know they were both pensive and sad it was all coming to an end, but JM crying, that just devastated me (because It's JM, and JM struggles so with showing himself so vulnerable).

So yes, it has taken me a second to get my wits together and come back and talk a bit with you about what we had in Episode 8.

When I finished watching the episode for the first time I couldn't help but think:

It's the end of the world as we know it...

Well, not really, because we knew it pretty well, but for those that didn't (or wouldn't see it, or denied it, or lived in a delusion that it wasn't happening) it sure is changed.

And then we get JM and JK just crushing down all those TKK rickety houses of cards (see what I did there?) with the photobook. Absolutely priceless!!

Are you sure?! Episode 8

Filled with romance and sentiment and so much feels. Couplie feels.

This episode, is the one, out of all those it followed, to cement for us, the spectators (all spectators, not only Jikookers), that these two are... drumroll... a REAL LIFE long term ever so loving couple.

No huge ear sucking, hickey showing or sunscreen claiming moments. And yet, this episode differs so much from the ones that came before because the whole aura of it was so heavy in "if it looks like a duck and quack like a duck then it's a fucking couple you idiots, just open your eyes".

This is JM and JK just being themselves albeit Sapporo Jikook are innately different due to timing and place - Japan and last trip before enlistment made this so much MORE for the two of them, and we most definitley saw just how much so at the end of this episode.

But this is also the editors doing, with the company's ok, of course, allowing us to see so much MORE. I do believe, that just like with the hickey finding it's way into memories 2020, this episode, the editing of it, was a conscious decision of both Jikook and the company. Jikook being themselves and allowing us to see more of it. More of them. I can assure you there is much we did not get to see, just like there was much we did not see from the previous trips and episodes, but we were allowed to see MORE in episode 8.

And again, it's not about seeing sus moments, because we definitely got a few of those in this episode. We had some in previous episodes as well.

It's about the MOOD.

it's about the editing allowing for more private moments (emotionally private, couplie private, not necessarily what people love to see or think would be the most suspicious ones, the more obvious ones with sexual innuendos), moments that I am sure happened in the other two destinations as well but were edited out.

But there were still things we weren't allowed to see.

Like when a crying JM goes to wake up JK in the morning.

Too personal. Too emotional. Too private.

Beyond the MORE, it was just TOO MUCH.

And yet we did get Jikook just being themselves and us getting to see it. Jikook just BEING. And it was beautiful. It was emotional. It was intimate. It was so very special.

We got to see them react to the first episode of the show. And although this most definitely wouldn't be the first time we got to see them sit down and watch and react to BTS content, that was always within the context of BTS content and with the other members. I can think of one time we got to see them watching their own interactions during the Black Swan shoot.

But even that had them sitting apart and the whole group present.

This was intimate. Just the two with only a red pillow between them (which I am 100% they put there to remind themselves of where, when and what they are doing). JK holding on to that pillow, to prevent hands from straying? I guess it kept them at bay... at times...

So yes. We see JK and JM (oh boy JM) definitely in the feels. And the different editing. Allowing us to see and feel their intimacy.

And with all that, the whole intimate aura surrounding that whole episode we got some cute and some more obvious moments (those moments you can point your finger at and say "there you go", unlike a feeling you get from just watching the two BEING).

We got so so much in this episode.

We got their usual playful flirting.

One example of many:

I mean, really???

The facial expression while saying it, and the mostly lack of reaction from JM as well. No flinching, no "you shouldn't say stuff like that", nope... just this:

This, to me, is not stressing about JK saying this to him but more about it being said for us to hear.

And I'm sorry, but whichever way you look at it, this is not the reaction you would get from a bro who was just told by his bro to strip.

We got more flirting in the car, at the convenience store, at the accommodations, in the hot tub as well. I will get to it all, don't worry, lol.

We got the touchy.

We also have the full combo of flirty playful and touchy:

We got JM telling us 3 times he was taking and took a boyfriend pic.

We got them calling each other pet names.

We got JM talking about his butt and JK's familiarity with it...

We got JK showing off his BF privileges.

We got JK trying to uplift JM's mood.

We got JK telling us all these trips with JM have been the best of his life,

and:

We got JK totally lost, gazing all stary eyed at JM.

Fuck, that was so beautiful!!

I want to go back a second to the clip I shared - what the absolute perfect ending to an absolutely wonderful show. And that little surprise at the end.

Even watching it again now I'm balling my eyes out.

JM rubbing his shaved head... I can't...

😭😭

The one thing that gives me strength is knowing that they are there TOGETHER!!!

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI

A/N: Idk how many of these I'm gonna make but the next one is gonna be craaaazy. You can check the last one here

Warnings: None. It's really short y'all I'm sorry for that, I'll do better next time 😔

Contents: Sae being awkward, ooc Rin at the beginning. Fluff because this is what it's all about.

Description: Sae gets home from a long trip and worries he might not be spending enough time with his daughter when he sees her getting along with Rin.

Sae struggled, as he always did, to open the front door. He didn't know why but it just stuck sometimes during the winter. The cold, he guesses; regardless it was still annoying. He got inside the apartment, luggage being pulled from behind him inside as well, and he closed the door quickly before taking off his shoes. As soon as he was in, his ears were filled with the sound of his daughter's giggling, so he finished setting aside his coat to walk around the corner into the living room.

"I'm home." for the first time ever, Mao didn't run to his arms as she usually did whenever he got home. She was too distracted playing with Rin, apparently, because she didn't even notice his presence or heard his voice. He watched as Rin wore some kind of puppet on his hand with a poor dinosaur shape, sitting at the ground yet seemingly having fun with his niece. She was containing her laugh, jumping in her place as she tried to express her thoughts on words.

"Do it again, do it again!!" she exclaimed. Rin let out a huff before responding.

"I don't think so, it's late and- hey, watch out, the dinosaur is going to eat you!" he aimed his hand to her neck as if the dinosaur was eating her. He wasn't being agressive, it was literally just him tickling her and making pretend dinosaur sounds to make it look like she was actually being eaten, yet she started rolling on the ground, laughing uncontrollably at the game.

"Again, again!!!"

"I'm home." Sae repeated, succeeding in gaining their attention. Mao stopped laughing as she spotted him, but even though she seemed happy, she wasn't as eager to jump and hug him like she always was. This was strange.

"Hi, papa!"

"Seems like that's my cue. I'm outta here." the younger Itoshi took off the dinosaur puppet and set it aside, making Mao do a little disappointed sound at the knowledge that he had to go while he stood up.

"Awwww, can you stay a little more?"

"Sorry kid, I have to go. I'll see you next time your dad decides to abandon you, though."

"Don't tell her that." Rin just shrugged, dismissing his brother's words as he walked out.

Now Sae felt a little weird. His daughter had this really sad face watching his brother go and she didn't even seem interested in the fact that he was back after being away for three weeks. Weeks. Like, what was up with her today? She was so attached to him normally; she literally begged to sleep in his room to feel near him and now she wasn't even looking at him. He saw Mao wave at her uncle as he left and then, FINALLY, look at him. But the words that came out of her mouth almost sent him into a coma.

"When are you gonna abandon me next?"

"What?" he almost choked as he answered. "I've never abandoned you, you know that. I travel for buisness; not because I don't want to be with you."

"Okay, but when are you going away?"

"Why are you asking me to go away?"

"So uncle Rin can come over again!" Sae was absolutely baffled; he could not believe what his ears were telling him. Was he away that much? Was he not spending enough time with his daughter? Was he leaving her alone so much that she started getting used to his absence? Absolutely not. He had to fix this at once.

He knelt down to her level and looked straight into her eyes, "Mao sweetie, there's no need to look so sad. I'm here, you know? I can be just as fun as your uncle. What do you say we play together?"

"Isn't it my bedtime now?" True. His flight did land pretty late, it was always like that. He would arrive late and come home to scold his daughter about staying up past her bedtime, but he couldn't care any less about it at the moment.

"Well, lucky you; you have a special permission to stay up late today. Now come on, let's play."

"What are we playing?"

"Um... let's see..." he looked around to find something that could be entertaining, and picked up the dinosaur puppet Rin was using earlier. "This. I can continue with... whatever game Rin was playing with you. What is it about?"

"It's dinosaur attack! The dinosaur has to attack me."

"Why?"

"That's how the game works!" he watched as his daughter made him put on the puppet on his hand, so he sat on the ground.

"But... what is the purpose of the dinosaur attacking you?"

"It's fun!"

"I can't see how it is..." he didn't really understand it, but if it would make her happy then he could give it a try. If Rin did it, how hard could it be? "Alright... here I go then."

"Papa! Dinosaurs don't tell when they're about to attack! It has to be a surprise!"

"Right. Right..." so confusing. This game had literally no meaning or purpose; how did his daughter enjoy it?

He gave it a try and pretended to attack with the puppet, but it was a rather soft attack. He couldn't help it; he just felt the need to be soft. Taking the risk of hurting her would kill him... but now he was killing her out of boredom.

"Papaaaaaa! You're supposed to make the dinosaur noises!"

"What dinosaur noises?"

"Like 'raaaaawwwwr!!' Uncle Rin always does it! And then he makes munch sounds like the dinosaur is eating me."

"Stop comparing me with your uncle, please." this was getting ridiculous. Not only was he failing completely at bonding with his daughter, but she just kept talking about how much fun Rin was. Since when was his brother good with kids anyway? Sae thought he hated children.

He then saw his daughter huff and puff her cheeks in a disappointed manner. "Nevermimd... you don't know how to play this game right, papa. You're so bad at it."

...Bad? Him? Bad at something?

Even worse, bad at spending time with his own daughter.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves; we'll try a different game." he then proceeded to take off the puppet from his hand. "What else do you wanna play?"

"Can I play princess?"

"I don't see why not." in fact, playing princess sounded a lot easier than whatever the hell Rin was playing with her earlier. How could playing princess go wrong?

"Papa, wear the tiara!" he froze, the words stuck in his throat as he struggled to find an answer. Sae did not expect her to want HIM to be the princess.

"You don't want to be the princess, honey? I think you'd do a much better job than me at that." he tried to gently coax her out of this decision. Now, don't come at him; it's not like he feels that his masculinity is being threatened if he wears a tiara, he couldn't care less. But it was still a little embarrassing, as he had never played the rol of a princess before and he didn't have any idea of how to do it. However, it was all for naught, as he saw his daughter shaking her head.

"No, you be the princess! I'll rescue you!"

"Is it really what you want? Wouldn't you rather be a pretty princess?"

"No, I wanna be the hero! I'm gonna rescue you, papa!" and how could he say no to those sparkling little eyes?

He sighed. "Alright... rescue me then." he finally took the shiny tiara and put it on his head a little awkwardly, while Mao ran around looking for something to use as a pretend sword, then settling for a cardboard tube that was left in the counter from the kitchen towels.

He kept a close eye on her, just ensuring she wasn't doing anything dangerous, until she came back and scattered around some pillows and plushies from her room. A little part of him cringed at the situation and the mess his daughter was making in the living room, knowing he would have to clean it later (or tomorrow), but he wasn't about to scold her when he was trying to spend quality time with her.

"All set!" she finally announced. "Obstacles and enemies!"

And he didn't really need to do anything either, he just sat there on the ground while Mao jumped, ran and played away all her energy pretending to rescue the princess (him). He saw her pretend to struggle, almost giggled at her uncoordinated movements and play-pretend, sighed 'impatiently' as he waited to be 'rescued' and struggled to hold back from helping her everytime she almost fell. Then after what felt like an eternity, she finally got to him, smile wide and beaming excitement at achieving her goal. And he smiled at her too, because maybe this was what parenting was about. Even when busy, just spending a few more minutes awake and pushing her bedtime a little bit later could make both of their days and mantain a healthy bond between them.

"You made it."

"I'm here to rescue you, papa! I mean, princess! I've come to save you from... the evil dinosaur!" she took that same puppet dinosaur once again and beat the hell out of it with her fake sword, and Sae had to retain his laugh.

"Okay, I think he's dead now."

"Now you're free!" she continued to celebrate, but it was clear now that she was pretty tired. It was past her bedtime and she has played like there was no tomorrow, so she let out a little yawn.

"Thank you for rescuing me." he carefully picked her on his arms and stood up, noticing her almost passing out from exhaustion, dropping the toys from her hands and getting hugging him back as she yawned once again. "Now, I think this little hero needs her rest after such an adventurous mission. Let's just get you to bed." Sae shifted her a little so he could take off the tiara and place it on the coffee table (for now), then walked towards the little girl's room. She was fast asleep now, breathing steady and calm as he carried her across the hallway and opened the door to her room. Once she was settled safely into bed, he took a last glance at her before going out to sleep himslef.

He should spend more time with her, take her with him to more places. Not only because he was feeling guilty that he may not be around enough, but because sometimes he was so busy with his tight schedule that he had the bad habit of forgetting. He forgot how much he loves being a father, and every second he spent with her seeing her smile and hearing her laughter and doing the childish stuff she does, he remembers. So yes, he should spend more time with his daughter. To make sure he never forgets his reasons to keep going.

[squinch-depraved]

thinking a lot about charlie lately

you hated that you had to leave your boyfriend for even a few minutes, but an indefinite work trip? he was going to fall apart without you here to keep him glued together. you were the thing that kept him whole, kept him going. he was so used to following you around like a lost puppy, what was he going to do without you here?

and not to even mention how horny he was for you nearly 24/7- you were constantly on his mind; the promise of being able to bury his face into your chest after finishing a long project was sometimes the only thing that spurred him to complete his tasks. you adored him, cherished how sweet he was and how seemingly addicted he was to you. it was one of your favorite things about him, how absolutely whipped he was for you. you tried not to let it go to your head too often.

but here he was, sat on the couch, waiting patiently for you to get home from your long day. he knew you would have to leave for your trip soon and was eager to spend any time with you that he could before you were gone until further notice. his face lit up when your keys jangled in the lock, you cursed under your breath as you struggled to open it and let out a deep sigh when you finally got the door open. a smile crossed your lips as you took in the sight of your boyfriend sitting there, and you admired what a good boy he was for you while you locked the door behind you.

"what's that?" he asked inquisitively, gesturing to the package under your arm. "i didn't think i heard anything get delivered," he said, apologetic.

"it's something i picked out for you to help you while i'm gone," you replied. "don't feel bad, i had this delivered to a friend's house so you wouldn't see it." the box was plain, just a brown cardboard container with a regular shipping label.

he nodded and shifted on the couch, adjusting his position to be more comfortable. a movie was playing on the tv, something you two had watched a few weeks ago that you figured he had put on because he missed you.

"lemme get changed and you can open your present, okay?" you set the box down next to him and kissed the top of his head, taking off your bag and placing it on the coffee table. he watched, enthralled, as you kicked your shoes off and peeled off your jacket, eyes following you until you were out of sight as you walked to your shared bedroom.

you came back a few minutes later, now dressed comfortably in one of his shirts. he swore you walked around like this (no pants, just a shirt and your underwear) just to tease him, and he drew in a sharp breath at the sight. he never could get used to how you made him feel; just the sight of you like this was enough to make his stomach do flips.

you plopped down next to him, grabbing the box and using your nails to cut through the tape sealing it closed. once it was open, you handed it to charlie and watched him reach in. he pulled out a smaller box and froze, reading the text on the outside before looking up at you, face burning.

"you got me a fleshlight?" he asked quietly.

you giggled and took the bigger, empty box from him, clearing away the trash. "so you have something while i'm gone," you smiled sweetly. "i know how you get when you have to go too long without me, baby, so i thought maybe this would help." you stroked his cheek softly, doing your best to ignore how hot his face felt.

"i can't... i'm, um," he stuttered.

"yes, you can, charlie, you're gonna have to while i'm not here. i'm giving it to you tonight so we can practice together and you won't feel as shy using it by yourself, but if you don't wanna be good for me..."

that seemed to snap him out of his stupor, and he shook his head vigorously while he spoke. "nonono, i'll be good for you," he promised. "i'll be so good." his voice was whiny and pathetic, just the way you always liked it.

"good," you cooed, ruffling his hair. "now open your toy and take your pants off."

he swallowed hard and obeyed, sliding his shorts off first before fiddling with the box.

"boxers, too, my sweet boy." you put your hand on his thigh and tugged slightly on his underwear. he took a shaky breath and did as you said, hissing softly when you took him in your hand. you pumped him up and down gently as he struggled to open his new toy, pulling away when he finally got it out of the box.

you made eye contact for a moment before leaning over and taking him all the way in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip and coating his whole length in your saliva. when you pulled your mouth off, he whimpered at the pop! sound.

you took the toy from his hand, lining it up on his shaft and turning to watch his face as you slid it onto him. it glided on with ease; he was so lubed up from your spit. he screwed his eyes shut and threw his head back, letting out a long moan at the contact. it wasn't as good as you, sure, he knew it wouldn't be, but it was a lot more pleasurable than he thought it was going to be.

you began dragging it up and down his shaft, working at a good pace. charlie's noises got more and more pitiful, and you shifted so you could kiss up and down his chest, neck, stomach- anywhere you could get your lips on, it was being kissed. you took his hand and guided it to his groin, and he swiftly took over for you, stroking himself rapidly while you tangled your fingers in his hair.

he looked beautiful like that, eyes shut tight, head tilted slightly back, face red from pleasure. you wished you could take a photo of him, you knew he wouldn't mind, but you had left your phone somewhere and hated yourself for not keeping it on you. oh well, the mental image of this would have to do on your trip until you asked him to send you videos.

after minutes of charlie moaning and panting, he started bucking his hips up into the toy, a sign he was getting close. you moved off him and positioned yourself between his legs, tapping his hand to signal him to stop. he peeked open his eyes and pulled the toy off, groaning deeply when you replaced it with your mouth. you worked masterfully on him, drawing unholy sounds from the man as he approached his high.

he grabbed your hair when he was about to cum, babbling your praises as he forced your head down slightly. you moaned when you felt him shoot his seed down your throat, swallowing with him still in your mouth and earning one last moan.

watching you through lidded eyes when you pulled off, charlie panted, trying for minutes to catch his breath. he finally spoke after taking a long drink from the water bottle you handed him.

"do you really have to go?"

you rolled your eyes and smiled, smacking him playfully. "i'll be back before you know it, my love."

[literallyalbertcamus]

okay literally god bless you for writing about angus tully 🧎‍♀️

angus and reader have a “study date” but its just an excuse for mr tully to admire and try and make out with reader :3

(if you’re comfortable writing ofc 🫶)

Can’t Take My Eyes off You – Angus Tully.

(This is the first request for a headcanon i writte since i was twelve, a little short but i did my best. There where 910 words in spanish)

Going to the library that day had been his idea, you were stressed about a chemistry exam, twenty-five percent of your semester grade, which wouldn't have been much if it weren't for your normally deplorable grades in the subject. That's why Angus, being the attentive boyfriend that he is, proposed to help you study. So now there you were, probably the only two people besides the librarian in the building, at one of the back tables hidden behind shelves full of books, side by side with your books and notebooks open on the table.

You two had been in that situation for at least an hour, when you had finally begun to understand the subject matter so he leaned back in the seat with his arms crossed behind his head watching you write flash cards so as not to forget what you had struggled so hard to understand and what Angus had so patiently explained to you. Your hair was tied back but a lock of it fell over your forehead, you were wearing Angus' favorite mini skirt, a burgundy color that contrasted beautifully with your legs in his opinion, you were also wearing a new perfume your mother had given you that smelled exquisite, the last two buttons of your black blouse were undone and a third was threatening to come undone as you bent over to write on the flash cards. Practically a pleasure to look at in your opinion.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe that you had agreed to be his girlfriend, and watching the sunlight fall on your face softly there in the library was one of those times.

“Do you have much left to write?” He asked you leaning over your shoulder.

“No, just three more cards” you muttered.

He stood in that position watching you write, your handwriting was curved and hurried, not very neat compared to his but he liked that, how authentic you were compared to his world and everything around him.

“Stop looking at me, i need to finish this”

At that he just smiled and moved closer to you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I like your perfume” he murmured into your neck and wrapped his arms around your torso, sometimes he liked to do that when you were together, just hug you and hide his face in your neck “ ‘s really nice... smells like candy”

Your fruity perfume represented exactly your scent in his personal opinion, completely sweet. The truth is that Angus absolutely adored everything about you, from your perfume to the way your hands fit his, or how good your lips felt against his, you were basically God in his eyes and could do no wrong.

“Enough! I need to finish this” you let out a giggle trying to get a little away from him to continue writing “come on, Angus I'm serious!”

“Nop, you’re just so sweet i want to eat you”

He began to spread little pecks down your neck, at first soft and not so close together, at first they caused you nothing but tickles and a slight blush because it was harmless, just his arms around you and his slender long fingers firm on your waist, so you managed to finish one of the cards, then when you leaned over to take another of the pink sheets of paper, Angus took the opportunity to move a little closer, and when you sat down the side of your back was on his chest now leaning towards your body.

“You're such a tease” you mumbled looking sideways at him, his smile bigger after your comment.

“Not my fault i have a total babe in my arms”

That made you stop writing and slowly turn around, his cheeks red as he tried not to start laughing.

“Oh my god! Stop it!”

“Only if you kiss me, doll”

Now the one who was red was you, trying to refocus on the sheet in front of you. Calling you nicknames like "doll" or "baby" had started after one afternoon at the pub where you two overheard a group of Barton boys talking about what girls liked, or at least what girls liked according to them, a group of teenage boys who had never interacted with a girl their age and who's only knowledge of the female body came from the hands of playboy.

You thought it was over when you were halfway through the important information, when you felt Angus' lips on your neck again, this time leaving wet kisses for every corner he had access to, you still weren't going to let him get away with it because that test was really important and you needed to learn that information at least until you finished it. That worked for a while until you were done with that card.

“Oh!”

That vicious bastard bitted you.

“Come on, you've learned all that already! Let me take care of you” he whimpered against your neck, his hands roaming your waist and what he could reach of your legs “You're so smart, there's no way you're going to fail that stupid test!”

“Well... maybe, maybe i can have a little break” you bargained, letting yourself be tempted by the kisses that trailed up from your collarbone to your cheek and down again “But! If you leave a hickey its over” you threatened him seriously as you turned around to drape your leg over his and sit nicely in his lap.

“Yes ma’am”

“Now stop teasing and kiss me right, pretty boy”

[wantondoe]

The Lady and the Host

I wanted to write a series about the time Alastor still lived. It would be an Alastor x reader story. Due to the plot, the reader is depicted to be a female. I will put trigger warnings in the beginning of each post. As always, I'm open to requests.

Plot: Alastor, the charming local radio host meets the upper class lady (you) who studies medicine in a university. He is immediately drawn to her ambition and bluntness. But he has a dark double identity as a ruthless serial killer. He hopelessly falls for her while also struggling to keep his secrets.

Chapter 1: Darling

Once again, Alastor was late for work. He dragged his slender body through the streets of New Orleans while the buses were honking and children were running around. The crowd of busy men and women were darting around. A group of young women were somewhere behind him, waving their hands while glancing towards him with flirty looks.

He managed to slip away from the fangirls, walking through the door that would take him to a narrow spiral staircase. He ran up the stairs, taking long leaps. He slammed the door open and hung his coat, still maintaining his charming smile at his coworker, who was sitting in front of the microphones with a sour look.

"Ah, Ted my dear coworker! I'm afraid I ran late again eh-"

"Cut it Alastor! And it's Theodore!" the sour-faced middle-aged man snapped. "This is the third time this week you're late!"

"Now now, no need to pout my buddy! We still have time before the broadcast!" Alastor took a seat next to him.

"We have time because I set everything ready!" Ted folded his arms. "What's keeping you so busy? Did the ladies stop you on the streets again?"

"Ah, you're sharp aren't you, my friend? Yes, some lovely ladies really wanted me to know that I'm the most charming radio host in all Louisiana-"

"Yes, yes, we all know that everyone loves you!" Ted rolled his eyes.

"Worry not my buddy, the people love you as well! You're the original voice of radio after all!"

"Whatever, lad", Ted muttered. "Okay, we're going live in 10...9..."

"Oh, by the way I'll leave early today because I have to attend this party!"

Ted stiffened in his chair, his eyed widening. "YOU WHAT NOW?"

"Ah, good morning New Orleans! Good to be on air, absolutely terrific!" Alastor spoke smoothly while Ted was muttering curses away from his microphone.

That was just a typical morning for Alastor, the young prominent radio host of New Orleans. He had gotten so popular that he had started to get invitations to parties. He had made some significant acquaintances that helped him further develop in his career. Being a charming, talented, young man he was really making a name for himself.

Fixing his red bow, he stepped in through the heavy doors, entering a large ball room area. It was lit by heavy chandeliers. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen were mingling around with champagne glasses in hand, while loud jazz music was playing. This was the kind of party where upper class men and women came to misbehave, to drink and dance without any shame.

Alastor genuinely enjoyed a good party. Even though Alastor came from wealth as well, he still found the people a tad stuffy. It could be difficult to find people with original thoughts in a place like this. He started his so-called "hunt" to find new, like-minded people.

As Alastor mingled and walked through the crowd, it came apparent that he already knew everyone. He kept up his flashy smile and charming persona, while on the inside, her was bored to death.

Alastor was a man who seemed to have it all, a career, admirers, wealthy family, friends, the looks and brains... But in fact, he was just a shell of a person, no better than the stuffy Louisianans. He strutted across the floor, searching for a new face. He had almost finished his champagne, when he saw you, the most fascinating sight of the evening. He hadn't seen something as adorable for a while, the way the silk of your dress danced around your legs as you turned around to meet the people around was simply beautiful. The colors of your outfit complimented your skin that seemed to glow under the dim lights. He walked closer, taking in your hair that was neatly combed behind your ear and secured with a pin. The moment he saw you smile through your sparkling eyes, he knew he had to talk to you.

He took confident steps to you, making sure to try to smile with his eyes as well. He watched the group of people leave your side before walking closer, closing the remaining distance between you two.

"Ah, dear, I believe I haven't seen you around before! Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" he said his usual greeting, kissing the back of your hand with grace. He gazed at you, trying to read your expression.

"Pleasure", came your short answer. You didn't seem too impressed, which irritated Alastor. He was used to people basically worshiping him. "And my name is..."

"Oh, what a lovely name! Just darling! What is a pretty lady such as yourself doing here all alone?"

"Well, I like being alone", came your bold answer. Alastor chuckled.

"Oh, I see", he hummed.

Quite honestly, you were tired of these young, entitled men flirting with you. It seemed as if all of them were the same. Alastor was quick to notice your disinterest, which bruised his ego.

"Shall I ask you for a dance?" he asked.

"Well..." you averted your gaze, looking a little flustered.

"Please.... Darling", the latter word rolled on his tongue like sweet poison. He smiled slyly, his gorgeous eyes half-lidded. He was like a businessman buttering someone up.

You made the mistake of looking at his face. The moment you saw his ridiculously handsome face, you knew you had lost. He might act like every other young man, but his looks were simply out of this world. His dark skin looked incredibly smooth, and you couldn't help but let yourself wonder how it would feel under your fingertips-

"Darling", Alastor repeated, chuckling. He had noticed your drifting mind. It was something young ladies such as you often did when looking at him. He was pleased to say the least. Finally you were paying attention to him. "Please, dance with me", he pleaded, offering his hand.

"Well I suppose I could, but only this time- WOAH!"

You were being yanked towards the dance floor by Alastor, who was grinning widely, his eyes loving as he gazed down at you. You were surprised by his spontaneous ways. You felt your face flush as he pressed his warm torso against you, leading the way on the dance floor. The fast phased jazz music was keeping them moving fast, their legs almost tangling. Alastor was quickly bringing you out of your shell, and you didn't mind.

Somehow, Alastor managed to make you loosen up like you had never before. All the stress from the week seemed to vanish as he held your wist on the dance floor. As the music slowed down, the tension between you and Alastor grew. He wasn't taking his eyes off you, holding you like you were the most precious thing.

"Shall we get some fresh air, darling?"

Alastor led the way to a cozy garden. There were a few wooden benches, roses were growing all around, making the air smell floral and romantic. The garden was lit up by lamps and the cool, calming moonlight. Alastor sat you on a bench before sitting next to you, sneaking his arm around your waist. Usually you would have snapped at anyone who dared to touch you in such intimate way. But for some reason, his touch didn't feel vile or bothersome.

"Darling", he hummed, holding you close. It was as if he had already decided that you were soulmates. Maybe you were. "I',m so glad I met you."

"Oh Alastor, don't get all cheesy now", you warned playfully.

"I can't help it, dear. You make me a hopeless romantic!" he exclaimed with a theatrical hand gesture.

You two continued sitting in the rose garden, enjoying the evening together. Eventually, you felt your eyelids get heavier, your body relaxing against his warmth. You let out a small, adorable yawn.

Alastor chuckled softly. "I see you are getting tired, my darling. Shall I walk you home?" he suggested, helping you stand up. "Come on, doll. I'll make sure you get home safe and sound!"

Alastor walked you through the streets. You watched the lights from restaurants and bars light up the narrow street, feeling warm and cozy. You braced yourself for the part where you two would walk by a smaller side alley. That alley always made you feel alerted. Your heartbeat quickened as you two passed the shady alleyway, Alastor's grip on your hand tightening.

"Just walk with me, darling", Alastor whispered, leading you past the shady part.

You felt the effect of the champagne wear off, your tipsy haze clearing up. Suddenly you realized that you didn't even know this Alastor so well. You knew he was an upper class man who had his successful radio show. You knew he was a popular one in the high society. But that was all superficial... You started getting this odd, creepy feeling as the night suddenly turned eerily quiet, only the faint sound of wind filling the air. You slowly gazed up to him and saw his smiling at you, his eyes gleaming in the dark. You forced a smile and looked away, trying to maintain some sort of composure.

"Darling, you've gone awfully quiet", he pointed out, his voice calm.

You were still young, but not stupid. You knew that the world could be a cruel, unjust place, especially for women. So, you started playing horror scenarios in your mind. Alastor was a tall man, he could easily-

No. You had to stop thinking about it like that. He wouldn't do anything, would he? Alastor had seemed so sweet, so genuinely caring....

"This is your house, right? 13B?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as Alastor stopped in front of the house you lived in. The familiar neighborhood immediately brought some sense of comfort to you. The atmosphere got lighter and you abandoned the dark thoughts that you've had earlier.

"Yes, this is it", you muttered nervously.

"Well, Miss, it had been quite the pleasure!" he grinned, kissing the back of her hand once again. "I expect to see you soon again, darling", he said, his voice low and seductive.

"Y-yeah. Good night."

"Good night, darling", he wished, his voice almost a whisper. He turned on his heels, walking back into the darkness.

After he had disappeared from sight, you let out a loud sigh. You were safe, you were okay. The front door of the house opened and your maid called for you. You happily ran inside the comforts of your home, the lovely night spent together with Alastor still fresh in your mind.

Meanwhile Alastor walked along the quiet streets, embracing the creepy atmosphere. He whistled a sinister rhyme, his hands shifting in his pockets.

Alastor could be the sweetest angel when he wanted to. he would sweet talk even the coldest person until they melted for him. He could make anyone trust him and he was excellent at controlling the way people saw him. But like everyone, he had his secrets too. He dragged his lean body in a side alley, his narrow shadow following. A hand was swung, blood was shed and soon after that, quick steps followed.

Now that Alastor had finally found someone, you, that made him feel something, he would make sure to eliminate any threats out of your way. Even if that meant getting his hands dirty. Alastor if anyone really hated making a sloppy mess!

"Anything for my darling..."

[avifaunaa]

these strange noises [ voices ] followed me here [ s.s.+n.s.] [ pt. 2 ]

Authors Note: 🤪

fun facts:

i have zero medical knowledge and the likelihood of this being extremely inaccurate is high!

i did a lot of research into medical practices and inner workings of being a medical professional to try and throw this together

i also watch grey's anatomy, that makes me an expert

any named people of importance in the hospital are made up for obvious reasons lmao

Shauna nat are married here. No i will not be taking questions.

Masterlist

PART ONE

Pairing: Dark!SoftNatalie x fem!reader x Dark!MeanShauna

Summary: It has been ten years since the rescue. Ten years since the trauma of a plane crash. Ten years. You’ve changed your name, moved as far away as you possibly could, and finished your degree and now find yourself in the last year fellowship of pediatric surgery. You’re fine. Until you’re not.

Content Warnings: Thick plot, sorry, Mentions of illness+injuries regarding children as R has become a pediatric surgeon + 1 detailed scene of surgery in which r is conversing with another doctor, r responds to an actual name because she changed it but not by S/N, Mean!Shauna, Soft!Natalie, angst, stalking, harassment, blackmail, EXTREMELY FUCKING DARK non-con, threats, degradation, praise, strap-on use [ r!r ], face slapping, spitting, cutting, hair-pulling, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, and some aftercare because jesus fucking christ.

Word Count:

Your forehead thumped against the steering wheel of your car as you closed your eyes. You were exhausted and you’d just had a day off — but it was time for your rounds and unfortunately, that meant the next few days of sleep would likely be done in the on-call room.

The cool San Diego breeze blew through your hair as you slammed the door shut and dropped the keys into your bag before dragging your way toward the looming building that was your second home — essentially.

Your phone chimed in your pocket and you pulled it out, hoping it wasn’t Clary asking you if you were there yet. She wanted to touch base on the research you were both working on as partners, but you didn’t want to admit to her that no, you hadn’t so much as touched it all weekend.

You almost failed out in your first year of fellowship — it was so much more difficult to have completed in one single year than all the years you had to complete for residency.

[ You also had five patients today, two of them with grave outlooks ]

If anything had taught you about looking death in the eye, it was crashing in the Canadian Wilderness and surviving for almost two years no matter the circumstances.

You could look these children in the eye and promise them you would absolutely do whatever it took to make them feel better. And pretend magic had everything to do with it.

It was their parents — their angry, grieving, begging parents — that you struggled with more. It was the same look when you watched the recordings your parents kept of the news and interviews about your plane going missing, the loss of hope after each one months after months.

With kids it was easy. They trusted you to do whatever you thought was best and felt like you were their imaginary savior of sorts — you would do whatever it took to take care of them.

But the adults had lost the magic, the endless hope, the seemingly open glee at hearing any slight good news.

It wasn’t Clary but rather, it was Jordan. She had become your closest friend — and your attending — during your fellowship. Forming close relationships with your mentors wasn’t inherently frowned upon as long as there could still be a clear line between professionalism and what usually existed on the other side of said line.

You were swift to get to the locker rooms to change into your scrubs and pristine white coat, saying hello to your other fellows and exchanging brief conversation.

None of them would ever wish to talk to you again if they knew who you were — what your real name was and what your experiences forced you to endure.

It matters little now. The only name you responded to and that was on any official documents to be found was the one you perfectly articulated for yourself when you burned away your past along with your dreams to work in Vancouver.

“Forceps,” Jordan demanded from your left, as the two of you stood over a patient lying on his side, a large incision opening from his ribs to his back. It was a mess and you hated that a fifteen year old had to experience it.

“You’re quiet today,” the older doctor commented once the tool was set in her hand and she went to work using it. Cancer, so built up that parts of his right lung had to go.

You kept still the drainage tube that allowed fluids to properly drain.

“I’m really tired,” you stated behind your mask, eyes moving toward the monitoring screen so you wouldn’t have to meet her eyes when she would glance at you. “It’s been a long month.”

And the anniversary for the crash is tomorrow.

But you couldn’t say that. Doing so would acknowledge a life that you had worked so endlessly to murder, bury, and run from so many years ago.

Your life was peacefully undisturbed and no signs of vengeance from your past was threatening to upturn what you’ve so carefully designed — you could only hope it stayed that way.

“Hmm,” Jordan murmured in the Jordan Way. You came to know it closely, intimately, when you started your fellowship under her scrutiny. She could smell lies like they were freshly baked bread and it made her extremely hard to go around.

Clary and you had lost rounds for a week when you had swapped patients simply because you didn’t like the other doctors you were paired with. Never again. You had both learned to play nice — “which you should have done as attendings,” she had snarled before stalking off.

But now she has fallen into her focused silence, working meticulously and removing the damaged section of lung on the patient. Nurses came and went with more sponging. You adjusted his position as needed if movement became an issue, and kept an eye on the muscle tearing done during the incision.

She snipped something and removed it carefully. It landed with a splat behind her on a medical container to be a properly disposed of.

“Clots?”

You did not move the tubing.

“No.”

“Good,” she said simply, and went back to work. You knew that while the focus was getting this surgery done, she was sniffing you out like a hound on a hare.

“He came out of the surgery well,” you told the thirty-eight year old woman four hours later, who trembled outside of her son’s recovery room where he lay sleeping now. “He’ll need to be monitored for any signs of clots or leaking from his lungs, but so far his outlook has become positive and he’s well on his way to being able to go back to soccer.”

Agnes trembled more and she collapsed into you, arms wrapping around you. You embraced her readily, having accepted this part of the job the most: the ability to take the overflow of emotions parents and family had nowhere else to put. In your residency, you had been desired by mentors for your bedside manner but it was always going to go to pediatrics.

“Thank you,” she murmured in your ear as her tear-soaked cheek pressed against yours in the hug. You rubbed her back, offering the comfort and shielding her from the part of you that ached and begged for sleep and food.

“It’s my pleasure. I will be back to check on him, but if you need anything feel free to ask the nurses okay?” You pulled back from the hug, squeezing her arms warmly and smiling as well.

Agnes nodded, thanking you tearfully once again as she stumbled to go see her son. You slid the door closed to allow her some quiet privacy to decompress — she was going to drop from that adrenaline soon.

You made your way to the nurses station where charts were already laid out for you. Your next patient was not going to wait for you to recover yourself, and you didn’t have a lunch for another four and a half hours.

It was the television, however, that stopped you in your tracks. The local news station was showing footage that was all too familiar and immediately induced a flight like sensation into your system.

You dig your fingers into the boxy clipboard as you stared at the overhead footage plastered to the screen of the remains of the crash from a year after. Your blood turned to ice in your veins and you froze like a deer in headlights.

The team had picked the plane apart to use what you could and many documentaries and news segments had commented on it when they went to seek out the wreckage and your camps after the rescue. You had family questioning you for months before you exited, stage left, and you had refused to discuss it.

“Tomorrow will mark ten years after the incredible rescue from Canadian forests of the university team, The Yellowjackets, one and a half years after they had been reported missing during their flight,” the reporter started, and the footage following flickered to the remains of the empty camp recorded post-rescue.

“Searches were initially held in the first five months where the flight path was said to have taken, but the crash was later found one hundred and fifty feet away from that official path. Investigators were unable to identify the exact cause of the crash.”

The reporter next to her leaned to glance at her. “Every time I hear the story, it never ceases to both amaze and sadden me,” he told his partner, shaking his head.

You wanted to claw his face off. It was all fake — he didn’t care, not really.

The woman nodded solemnly in agreement. Someone brushed your shoulder and something was said, but you did not pay attention as she continued, “Survivors have gone completely off-grid since their return home except, notably, for lawyer and currently running for State Senator Taissa Turner, who has not answered questions in regards to the crash.”

Photographs of all of you — the ones who made it — lined the screen. They weren’t recent and you were relieved that your deep burial had worked. All these photos were ones taken for the university website for the team a few months before the play season began.

Your eyes flickered to Shauna and Natalie’s photos, briefly, and you held your breath until they were gone. Even this long and you still acted off of your base instinct when any signs of them, be it a memory or a mention in media, cropped up.

“Doctor Landry.” You jerked back from the counter and your arm loosened on the clipboard holding your chart. The object fell with to the floor with a clatter and you startled further, rearing back and pressing your lower back into the counter.

“Woah, sorry.” It was a resident who often worked with Jordan and thus with you. His name often escaped you, but right now it wasn’t even a thought in your head. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Must have been really into the chart, huh?”

You swallowed hard, fingers pressing carefully into the smooth countertops to ground yourself and tuned your ears to the sound of the hospital noises. For many, the hospital is chaotic, overwhelming, a cause of stress.

For you it brought comfort. The endless impact of sensations were a constant reminder of who and where you were now and you were able to keep yourself from truly having to dig too internally.

You breathed out and watched the resident bend down a little too eagerly to grab the chart for you and hold it out with a nervous smile. “Doctor Jordan sent me to be your resident for the rest of your rounds,” he said, sounding pleased.

You blinked at him and hated and loved Jordan in equal measures at this moment. You knew she was working on your teaching skills for when you completed your fellowship and had a license in full. You would eventually have your own fellows to train and residents to attend, but . . .

“Okay,” you started, “Larry.”

He frowned. “It’s Brewer.”

You slipped your tennis shoes back on once you changed back into your normal clothes — glad to feel something heavier against your skin other than scrubs but less constraining than your coat.

Clary — bright, energetic, a mass of light — blocked your exit from the locker room, hand gripping her bag as she grinned at you, ignoring your tired face. “Drinks?”

You glanced at your phone screen and squinted at the large 10:00 that flashed back at you. You’d just gotten off of the second of your monthly 24 hour shifts; you’d be on mostly day shifts and Jordan’s on-call schedule for surgeries the rest of the month.

A drink with Clary and then sleeping in wouldn’t hurt. You won’t be back until Wednesday.

“Okay,” you agree like you had a choice with her blocking your path. Her grin became softer and she nudged you as you exit together and discuss your shifts on your way out.

You went to a bar close to the beach that had outdoor seating. The night life was active despite being a weekday and you knew it was partially to do with spring break soon coming up.

You both ordered your usuals and you ran the heel of your palm across your face as you took in the scenery, trying to get the entire day out of your head.

“How’d your lung surgery go?” she asked when drinks were delivered. Your fingers wrapped around the chilled glass of your beverage and you took a sip.

"Exceptionally well, of course, when it comes to working with Jordan," you told her, raising your glass in a half-salute. "She's a master of her craft."

Clary arched a perfectly sculpted brow [ you would know, she's dragged you to her appointments more than once ] and released the loudest scoffs her small form could manage. "Bullshit. Yeah, she's amazing. But c'mon . . . you're being looked at to become a permanent surgeon here! Jordan sings you praises!"

"I assisted her on the lung surgery, Clary," you laughed, "That was all I was asked to do this time."

"But I'm trying to point out facts here, Darling." Clary did not continue without first taking another sip of her drink, with you following suit. The salty beach breeze drifted into the outdoor patio as the bustle increased from beach-goers seeking late night drinks and food. "There's rumors."

"Not rumors," you moaned, craning your head back and tight-lipping a smile from your face in amusement.

"I'm serious!" You felt the table shake as she leaned over to slap you on the arm.

"Watch the drink, psycho!" You reared back, careful not to spill and keeping your body parts off of the table in case she used friendly fire again.

"There's rumors, Landry," Clary repeated, dimpled cheeks flushed from the alcohol and giggles you two had shared. "That Sanchez is going to go to the Board after you complete your fellowship and that's why Jordan's been throwing all of her energy into you more than her other fellows."

You did not let that spark of hope in your chest ignite into a large bonfire. You were good at what you did and you knew it, but focusing on simply surviving this final year would be what earned that offer of any position from the hospital. Not dreaming of it.

You twirled your drink and hid your features as you tipped it to take a longer sip than the last.

"The kids like you," Clary continued as she flagged down the server for your table, her drink empty, "the nurses and attendings like you, Jordan's residents like you, hell -- the ER likes it when you come and take a load from them. Are you really stunned to silence?"

"No, Claire," you sighed, wanting her to shut up about it. You knew you were liked, you knew you had eyes on you, and while you knew what you were getting into when you stayed in your field after the Wilderness, you always had to remind yourself you did not have to keep looking over your shoulder from these particular eyes.

"Claire," the fellow chortled, flinging herself back dramatically in her high-seated chair. "Not the full name."

"Can we discuss something else before I end up having to use your last name, too?"

The way she puffed her cheeks out at you indicated that she wasn't completely finished hounding you, but she also seemed to understand you had drawn a line in the sand and was not going to cross it.

She waved her manicured hand at you, sparkly black nails glinting under the bright lighting of the tiki's and overhang fan-lights. "Ugh, fine. Keep your secrets."

You smiled at her. "I will."

Your discussion veered off into safer waters and you had gotten relaxed under the atmosphere. Chattering patrons and boisterous laughter replaced the bustle of hospital noise that soothed you constantly.

You and Clary turned your heads when a server that was not the one who had been supplying you both with drinks all night appeared with a tray, only one glass of your choice of drink aligned in the middle.

"Hi," he greeted politely, but rushed, as he sat the glass down in front of you, covering the two empty ones behind it. "A nice woman at the bar bought you this drink."

You stared at it as he swiped the two empty glasses and went for Clary's as well, leaving her third half-empty one for her to finish as the woman stared at you in shock, brow raised mischievously.

"Thank you," she said for you, eyes still on your stupefied form as the server vanished into the crowd. She smirked brightly, chin laying on her curled fist as she wiggled her brows at you. "Well, well, do we have a mystery admirer we should keep an eye out for?"

You did not touch the drink and shifted your gaze over Clary's shoulder toward the bar. It was packed with people waiting for drinks. All seats were taken but people crowded the areas between and behind it, too.

Nobody in particular stood out nor did you feel as though you were being watched. You wondered if you had grown extremely comfortable in this life to the point of no longer studying your surroundings well enough.

"See anyone?" Clary mused behind her glass, turning her upper body to help you look. "Jesus Christ, even though we know our mystery friend is a woman there's still to many to try to pull as our suspect." She swiveled back to you, looking more deflated than you.

You shrugged as you swept the area one more time, hoping you'd maybe find anything that would stick out. You picked up the glass and dropped the matter -- if your gift giver was too shy to reveal herself, then you'd just let her appreciate you enjoying her gift from afar.

"It's fine," you assure Clary, offering a tilted grin to soften the blow, "I'm too busy impressing the Board for mystery ladies, anyway."

Clary downed the rest of her drink.

Your sitter messaged you to let you know that she had left the key in the usual spot after walking Nibbles for the last time for the night. You dumped a generous tip into her Rover account and requested another drop by for your few work days that would be the busiest and snagged the key from your elderly neighbor's plant as you returned to your apartment.

You were buzzy and feeling more relaxed after going out for drinks with Clary. You did not do it extremely often -- but it was good for you to not stay locked away in your place every second you weren't at the hospital. You got stir crazy easy and after the crash, you did not like existing in a state of "just here" that signaled your brain that you were on survival mode.

Never again.

Your teacup yorkie, Nibbles, spun in circles in his ritualistic way by the front door as you entered and removed your shoes. He did this until he was dizzy and wobbled after you toward the couch.

"Was Penelope here today, my little mister man?" you crooned at him as he climbed up the couch and spun more circles in your lap. "I see. Did you see many things on your walks?"

He gave you kisses and sniffs.

Nibbles was your one indulgence in the destruction of your old self and rebirth of the new. You found him in a box as you were throwing your broken down boxes into the recycling after moving into your place. He was a tiny, scraggly, infested thing that reminded you of yourself ten years ago.

You took him in immediately and he's been your constant in the ever-changing busy world you'd fashioned for yourself. Ten years old and he was still ready for whatever you threw at him.

After saying proper hellos and dropping a frozen Kong at his feet to keep him busy while you got ready for bed, you headed to the bathroom and rubbed at your temples.

Your phone, muffled, buzzed insistently in the bag you tossed on the bed as you were undoing your jeans.

You ignored it and figured it was Clary spamming you with TikToks after doom-scrolling in the cab.

But the buzzing did not end. Clary sent you ten videos in two messages, usually, not one by one.

Your curiosity got the better of you and had you rotating yourself to the bed and shifting through your bag until your phone was in hand.

Unknown (12:54): You cut your hair. Unknown (12:54): you're so pretty to this day, baby Unknown (12:54): We're glad to see you still like the same drinks Unknown (12:55): You aren't dating that girl you're with are you? Unknown (12:55): we're really proud of you're accomplishments Unknown (12:55): It took us ten years, sweetheart. Ready to see what we can do with ten minutes? Unknown (12:57): We cannot wait to catch up with you. Hope your dog doesn't bite

A cold wave of soberness splashed over you as you read out each text message word by word then went back and reread them again.

You dropped the phone like it had burned a hole into your hand, curling your fingers to your chest as you stare at the object in horror. Your eyes darted around, paranoia starting to renter your system like a welcome friend that was old but well-known.

You shot across the bedroom and ripped the curtains over the windows, covering the view and made quick work of the ones in the living room as well. Nibbles had finished his Kong and followed you around, ears perked and fuzzy face mussed from cheese.

You backed away from the windows and swallowed dryly, trembling and paced circles around your entire apartment for a better part of an entire hour without any sign of disturbance.

You barely touched your phone but there were no other text messages coming in. You blocked the number and screenshotted the messages just in case before turning your phone off for the night and heading off to the bathroom to shower.

You dress quickly and don’t spend as much time on your skincare routine as you usually do. Your head was spinning with unfiltered energy and fears about those messages.

Nibbles is waiting in his spot on your bed with an expectant look as you pulled the covers out and slipped under. He immediately dove under to curl into your side and nestle into your warmth like a heat-seeking mini missile.

You flipped on the television and thumbed at the buttons without actually changing the channel that was already on from when you last had watched. Your mind was racing like a three-time winning race-horse.

There was no possible way it could be anyone on the team. While the reporters had been pretty correct in everyone going off grid, you had done more than that. You had wiped your name off the map.

So much had happened after the rescue anyways -- Natalie and Shauna had never really had the chance to regain control over their hold once going home and struggling to go back to normal had become all of your shared fight.

You hoped it was just some kids playing a prank on random phone numbers that they entered into their phones.

But even the likelihood of that was lower than your belief that your past was not going to come back to haunt you quicker than you'd left it behind.

The next day you kept busy with mundane tasks that ensured your thoughts were distracted. You went out somewhat early to grocery shop -- when you opened your refrigerator you had winced at the lack of food. It was time to brave that task again.

You armed Nibbles with some treats and the television to make sure he had company and went on your way, list made.

As the day dragged forth you could not help but feel a pit start to grow in your stomach. It was a feeling you had known well but had not felt to this degree for a very long time.

You tried to ignore it as best you could, but it did not seem to go away the closer to home you got.

You stood dead in front of your door, unable to shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The bags you had gathered together in hand were slipping from how clammy your hands grew under the stress of the feeling.

Quietly you set your goods down and fished for your keys. Entered them into the lock . . .

. . . only to find that the door was not locked in the first place.

You took a step back bile beginning to claw its' way up from your stomach and into your mouth, threatening to spew all over the ground. You have never felt like an animal walking into a trap to this degree; not since the Wilderness.

You had to leave, you needed to get out of here, get somewhere where other people were and wait it out. Call the police --

The door opened.

And Shauna Fucking Shipman stood in your doorway like she lived there, your little dog pleased and panting happily in her arms.

"Hello, sweetheart," she chirped, lips curling upward into that trademark smirk that read trouble and danger in your eyes. "Didn't you get our texts?"

Our?

"W-What?" San Diego could get warm sometimes -- but the hallway was boiling lava to your skin right now. Revets of sweat trickled down your forehead and you stood stark still in front of her. "Shauna?"

"Hi, Landry," she purred, reaching out one of her arms and gesturing for you to come into your own apartment. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

You went to move forward past her and give her the widest of berths you could afford. She did not follow you closely but went to grab the bags that you had, in your shock, left in the hallway before following you.

You saw a figure on your sofa sprawled out like a cat that had claimed the nicest piece of furniture in the house. High-ankle combat boots, tight fitting black jeans, messy bleach blonde hair and an angular sleek face.

"Natalie," you blurt. She turns her head to you. She looked just like she did ten years ago in the Wilderness, but the bags under her eyes from the stress of trying to keep a bunch of people alive . . . that was gone. There was fresh life there.

Her eyes softened around the edges and she turned her body so she could face you. She had a gold band around her ring finger -- the only thing that truly stood out as very un-Nat like to you.

You tried not to stare at the band too long before moving your gaze back to her face. Her red lips were smiling, so unlike the sharp sneers Shauna doned and always so warm.

"Hey, baby," she husked. "You cut your hair."

You had few options now that they were somehow in your home; your safe space now made a den of danger.

So you offered to make them dinner with the haul you retrieved from the store. You did not know Shauna and Natalie as they were back when you were college students, and you wanted to never be the girl who had to do what she did to stay alive.

A dinner may keep you in a safe zone and give you time to think. They accepted -- but Shauna wanted to help. She plopped your traitorous dog onto Nat's lap and followed you into your small, open kitchen to unpack your groceries.

She had not changed much, either. She was still incredibly fit as though she never left the soccer life. Her hair was in wavy rings held back by a ponytail and some of her distinct freckles had faded into a softer dusting, but the predatory glitter was still very Shauna.

She also had a band around her ring finger; gold with a glittery diamond showing off.

"Pretty," you commented casually, nodding to the ring as you pulled out your cutting board and lay aside some lettuce, cucumber, onion, and tomatoes for a salad.

Shauna had a chicken breast that you had planned on saving for girl's night with Clary in her hands. She glanced at the ring, and she seemed to soften with fondness briefly. "Thank you. Nat chose well, don't you think?"

"Nat?" you could not hide your surprise if you tried, eyebrows disappearing into your hairline as you rolled the tomato between your hand and the cutting board, almost squeezing it flat. "Wow -- shit. Unexpected, but -- uhh -- congratulations." Shauna's nose wrinkled in a show of amusement. "Thank you. We married a couple of years after . . ." she trailed off, but her tone did not sound as though she hated discussing the past in the way you did.

"Oh." You chewed your lip. "Well, good for you guys."

Silence overtook the both of you as you started your respective roles in creating dinner. You couldn't help but be compared to those lions that take on gazelle and simply co-exist with them for days at a time before eating them or letting them go, in rarer cases.

You thumbed the hilt of the knife comfortingly and glanced slowly at Shauna. "How did you find me?"

Shauna was applying some sort of homemade rub that had a strong smell of spice onto the chicken. She let you sit in anticipation while she did this and while she washed her hands.

Finally, "Misty."

Fucking Misty Quigley. If you ever got your hands on her, you'll make her into a human experiment the likes which even the most cruel of humanity would gawk at.

"I was sure I made it clear I did not want to be found," you said flatly.

Shauna pressed some buttons on your oven. "We gave you long enough," she said like that answered every single question ever.

"This is why I burned bridges," you snapped, slicing the tomato thinner than intended, unlike the previous slices. "I created a life for myself here, Shauna. That girl from before the rescue died in the Wilderness."

Shauna was quiet as she waited for the oven to heat up; it was the type of quiet that was tense and displeased with a buildup that had no release system.

"I want," you continued when she said nothing else, "a quiet life. No Wilderness, no reminders of the crash, no existing parts of who I had to become in order to still know I was alive. I hated that girl so I created a woman I could stand being."

A hand brushed the back of your neck before grasping it. It was a natural reflex -- ten years old and still you melted into it like nothing had changed. The dull edges of her ring pressed into your skin like a hot brand.

"Natalie and I picked up our entire lives and moved down here," she confesses, ice coating the words she spoke, "after we gave you your fucking space and let you do whatever you needed to do. Did you really think you were truly ever out of our sights? That we let you go?"

Pinpricks of heat prodded at your eyes as she locked you in place, a hazy assault of unwelcome memories starting to rip apart scars that you had spent years treating and disguising.

"Why?"

Shauna pressed a lingering kiss behind your ear. "Because you have always been ours. Do you want to keep your career -- make sure the hard work put into this life-saving job of yours doesn't go away?"

You swallowed under her fingers. She felt it and laughed breathily. "I bet so. Be good for us. Your career isn't in our sights -- we just want the rest of you."

She released you just like that, backing away as the oven screamed out to alert it was heated up.

"Finish the salad and set the table," Shauna orders like she did not just blackmail you, "Then go sit with Nat."

Nat did not make you talk much until you were both called to the table to eat. Three portions of the meal were set out and as clanking of silverware dominated the silence next to the heavy panting of Nibbles begging at your feet, you could feel Nat and Shauna watching your movements.

"We've read some of your research," Nat commented as she drank from the glass of wine. The bottle Shauna had found was half opened in your fridge, cheap but she poured three glasses anyway. "You have a lot of passion for pediatrics."

You picked at your chicken. It was extremely tender and images of Shauna swinging the butcher's knife and delivering the fate through your meals every day for a year came back like a slap to the face.

Shauna was staring, fork struck into her slice of chicken as she waited for a response from you. "Yeah," you murmured. "Working with the kids is why I stayed in pediatrics. But that's why a lot of people in that branch stay."

"Isn't it sad?" Shauna asked, surprising you, "For the ones that don't make it?"

"Absolutely," you affirm. "But it is the ones that we lose that make me want to make sure that we save the ones we can while working endlessly to search for ways to try prevent losses like those."

Something ruminating crossed over the brunette's features and Nat nudged your foot with her own under the table. "That's great, sweetheart. You're doing so much good."

You hoped so, but you did not express it out loud. You did not want to give into them like this -- stalking you, barging into your home, sitting at the fucking table to share a meal with you like you were just old friends.

"So you moved to San Diego?" you asked awkwardly, avoiding wording that indicates you would encourage any actions they took being for you.

"A month ago," Nat confirmed. "We got a house in La Jolla that's about a fifteen minute walk to the beach. I think you'd love it."

"Mm, well good for you guys." You lifted your wine glass awkwardly and then took a sip.

Dinner was continued with conversation mostly brought up by Nat and Shauna -- both of them knowing full well you were likely receding in on yourself like you used to.

"Well," you started when the kitchen was cleaned and wine was finished, "it was nice catching up . . . but . . ."

Shauna smiled a little in such an unsettling way that you had to resist the urge to take a step back. She had her fingers lazily hooked into the pockets of her pants, regarding you like a fine piece of artwork.

"Nat."

Hands slithered under your shirt from behind, long fingers tapping along your stomach while Shauna circled the both of you with little hurry.

“Stop,” you instantly said as your hands flew up to snatch her hands away from your skin. You’ve had a compromised enjoyment of touch after the crash — this was no exception. This was the reason for it.

“No,” Shauna said simply in a drawl, familiarity coating it like a thick and angry thing.

You kept a tight, iron grip on Nat’s smooth, but calloused hands until Shauna stalked toward and lashed out.

It was so quick and the sting on your skin was there before your brain caught up to what had just occurred. Shauna had hit you, open-palmed, across the cheek with a force that promised worse.

She wasn’t done. She snatched your throat in cold fingers, pressing down just so on the points of pressure that would cut off your air way as she forces your face to lean up to gaze at her, smiling at whatever she found on your face.

“Be a good slut,” she started, nails digging grooves into your skin as she applied more pressure, “and do as we say. Nod if you understand, you fucking useless whore.”

You broke into tears but the nod followed behind quickly, your neck hardly moving under her piercing hold. She kept you there for a bit longer anyways, seeming to enjoy the way she made you cry.

“Shauna,” Nat cooed behind you as she managed to untangle her hands from yours, having noted the weakened grip. Her palms returned to rubbing up and down your chest and stomach almost soothingly. “Couldn’t you be nicer? It’s been a while.”

“Exactly,” Shauna said coldly, even as her fingers released some of the tension. A throbbing began to flow underneath the heat of her fingers where she had made her claim.

She had ensured you would feel her fingers even when she released your neck, later.

“Remember your place, baby,” Shauna told you, jaw clenching. “You’re extremely smart so you and I both know it’s not been lost on you.”

Nat’s teeth began scraping softly down the backside of your collarbone, creating a shiver through your spine as her hands worked under your bra. “She can be so mean, can’t she?” Nat whispered conspiratorially, nipping at the edge of the bone before moving along your shoulder.

Shauna wasn’t looking at you now, but just a little to the side. Where Nat’s head rested as she sucked bruises into your skin. The sight of them like this — the disgusting, reviving part of you — jolted at it.

Your thighs twitched in effort to conceal your need to cross them. You were so fucking wet.

Shauna notices the movement despite looking zeroed in on her wife’s devoted attentions, her gaze flickering to how your legs trembled with effort. You were only being held up by Nat’s hold and Shauna’s barely-there position on your throat.

“You act as though you built a fortress around this . . .” She rolled her eyes, “new personified version of yourself. But I can see the weaknesses in the walls, baby. You’re still the same beast under the new name and new life. Just like us.”

It was a truth that you had denied so long — and Shauna speaking it aloud had you ripping your body away with such brute force that even Nat couldn’t stop it in time. You stumbled clumsily backward toward your bedroom, air conditioning hitting your raw cheeks and drying the tears.

“Get out,” you demand, voice shaking and near begging. “Please leave me alone. It’s too much.”

But they didn’t leave — they followed you deeper into your space, cornering you into the bedroom as Shauna bundled her fist into the front of your shirt and roughly pushed you toward the bed under the back of your knees gave way.

She climbed on top of you as Nat padded around, looking through your items and opening drawers. So many violations overwhelming you in one instance. You shoved at Shauna’s arms but her face twisted and she grasped them, pinning them above you as she used her knees to pry open your thighs as wide as your body would allow.

You cried out. “Stop! Stop it!”

“Shut up.” She spat, purposefully watching as droplets of saliva spread across your face. Her eyes glinted ferally, like this was some form of marking that seeped into your skin and your blood.

“Nat what the fuck are you looking for? Get the fuck over here,” Shauna snapped, frustrated at her wife’s shifting around through your belongings.

Natalie did not answer at first — which you thought was extremely bold of her when Shauna was in a mood like this — but then she popped out of your closet with your six inch dildo.

Your eyes widened and so did Shauna’s. Her grip then became shackles to your wrists. “Oh, my little slut,” she murmured, eyes drifting back to you as Nat came over.

The blonde looked too proud of herself for your liking. “Is it a strapless?” Shauna demanded, but not to you. You weren’t a who to them right now.

“Looks to be,” Nat said, inspecting it closely. She smiled sweetly at you. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure she’s gentle.”

Shauna scoffed as Nat went to work undressing her wife so that you would have no chance of escaping. If Shauna had to lift a limb from you, Nat somehow found a way to use one of hers to keep you in place. It was a slow process and you were crawling out of your skin. No amount of effort worked in your favor.

“Your turn, precious,” Nat murmured as she watched from above your head as Shauna inserts one of the ends of the dildo into her self. Your mind blanks out as you beg for them to let you go.

Somehow you’re naked. How did you get naked?

Your clothes were ripped away, it seemed.

Natalie ran fingers through your hair, talking to you in what she hoped to have been a soothing tone. It grated against your ear drums as Shauna’s hands ran along your body as she lifted herself over you. Her eyes darkened, locked with yours.

Then she thrusted hard into you — she did not go gently, nor did she check how wet you were. Thankfully your body had betrayed you as it always had with them — and though you were unprepared for the size of the dildo [ it had been a gift from Clary as a gag, unused and collecting dust ], it slid in.

It was painful and you sobbed out as Shauna’s shackled embrace loosened enough for your hands to fly up and dig into her bare back. She did not allow adjustment — this was not going to be a sweet fucking.

“You’re a fucking slut, you know?” the brunette whispered, her voice shakier than you’ve ever heard her. She was starting at a punishing pace — and you feared what that meant for when she was close to her orgasm. “You claim to not want us, you fucking hate us, but here you are wet as can be and taking me like a goddamn whore.”

You choked on words that never came to fruition, sobs replacing them instead as pain and something close to pleasure intertwined as she fucked you, hips angling in a way that told you she was seeking both her pleasure and something else in the process.

Nat was watching, but her clothes stayed on as she did. “You’re doing so well, baby,” she told you gently, keeping your head in her lap as you took what Shauna gave, “You’re so pretty like this. Oh, your eyes. They’re turning fuzzy.”

“That’s what happens,” Shauna breathed out, a hand spearing out to press flat into the mattress next to your head. She paused her brutality, deep inside you, and adjusted.

Her chest was heaving and she looked nothing short of animalistic as she looked you in the eye. You tried to focus on her face, but so many sensations were overworking you. She was taking you apart piece by piece and throwing your crafted shield away.

“I’m going to wreck you,” she promised, and followed it up with a brutal thrust that landed perfectly into your g-spot as though —

She did remember your body. Too well. You sobbed as your nails ran deeply down her skin. Her other hand freed you, feeling confident that you no longer had the power to make an attempt to escape.

She lifted her body enough, body to reveal the space between your stomachs. With the diamond glinting along her hand, she twisted the ring further up her finger.

“Shauna,” Nat warned, tinged with concern. Your eyes lazily drifted to her face, and you saw her shaking her head.

Shauna ignored her wife and pressed the sharp edges of the diamond into your skin and began to cut. It wasn’t a slow process and you yelled out, now trying to escape her hold.

“H-hurts,” you sobbed as the dildo pressed deeper into you and had you seeing stars. Her thrusting was in tune with the way she cut deep marks into your skin, creating some design.

Warm blood trickled down your stomach as she pulled the reddened ring away. It was a a beautiful diamond — even soaked in your blood and she lifted her finger to her mouth to clean it as she used her other hand to reach down to your clit.

Holding herself up by the cock inside of you and the rolling of your hips, she pressed so deep and hard on your clit that your body didn’t have a chance to process before locking up.

Nat held you through the most intense orgasm of your life, and her hand came down to gently rest across your mouth and muffle the throat tearing screams that it encouraged.

Shauna’s orgasm was not far behind, her chest falling on top of you and her thrusts increasing tenfold. She did not allow you to recover for a second — and before she managed to reach her own peak, she sent you hurtling into three more.

Your brain emptied as your body tried to accept the mirrored pain and pleasure that became your life. Nothing else made sense in your world at the moment, but Nat was pressing soft kisses against wet skin, Shauna was gasping and running her cheek across yours as she shook through waves of her own high, and your entire being was becoming reborn.

The three of you remained like this for a while, aftershocks waving through you as your walls clenched the dildo in deeper. Shauna forced out a breath each time it happened, but otherwise made no comment.

You felt disgusting in the aftermath. Emotions that you never really faced were beginning to surface in Shauna and Natalie’s ultimate destruction of your coverup, and you had no way to defend yourself from them.

“It’s okay,” Nat whispered for the nth time that night, trying to encourage a belief in the statement. She had shifted her position so she was lying on her side behind your head. You could hear her heartbeat — calm and rhythmic.

It was a strange comfort in the upheaval of your carefully planted existence.

Shauna lifted her chin from your shoulder and moved her hand. She didn’t pause, even when you flinched at her movement, but she was surprisingly very gentle as her fingers wiped at the fresh tears.

“You did so well,” her low voice rasped, and she sounded honest. Pleased. Proud. “You took it all so beautifully.”

You didn’t know what to say. She didn’t seem to mind. She moved her body down, shifting the dildo inside of you and sending a shiver through your body.

“Hurts,” you whispered when she sent you a questioning brow raise.

Shauna nodded, “Okay, sweetheart. Let me pull out and check the cut. Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Be a little brave?”

Did you have any other option?

Natalie ran her fingers across your sweat soaked arms. “I’ve got you,” she promises, “We both do.”

Taking that as your consent where it wasn’t, Shauna slowly began pulling out. You instinctively locked up, your knees curling in, but Shauna stopped them and kept slowly moving until it was completely out. It was soaked heavily with your juices.

She pulled the other end out of herself and tossed it to the floor.

“Nibbles will get it,” you whispered disapprovingly. “Not on the floor.”

Shauna rolled her eyes, hard, but detangled herself from your body and grabbed the dildo and took it off into the bathroom — where she stayed for a longer time than expected.

When she returned she had a damp, warm rag in hand and her hair was in a messy bun, flannel the only thing she wore. She kneeled down over you again and slowly began wiping you down, working her way up. She got to the cut in your skin and was slow in her care of it.

“Do you have any thing we can put on this?” she murmured to you.

“Cabinet,” you whispered.

As Shauna once more left to go in search for the cream, you lifted your head to peer down at the engraving she had carved into your skin with her ring:

S.S.+N.S.