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yeostinys · 6 months ago

Text

My Dear Darling

Chapter 5

Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!

Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)

Word Count: 8k

Synopsis: someone finds out about your relationship with ATZ. And the boys made an agreement amongst themselves?

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_____________________________________

The evening sun poured through the large window of your studio apartment, casting a warm golden glow that danced across the room. You sat on your soft, plush couch, surrounded by a chaotic array of notebooks, crumpled papers, and the persistent hum of your laptop. With a weary sigh, you leaned back, your shoulders heavy with the weight of the past five hours spent wrestling with a report for your internship.

You had always been the type to overwork, driven by an insatiable desire to excel in everything you undertook. Balancing school, work, and your social life had never been a challenge for you—until now. A sense of dread settled in your chest as you approached the report’s conclusion. You longed for relaxation, for a moment to breathe, to escape the demands of your responsibilities. Above all, you yearned to see your boyfriends, their laughter and warmth a distant echo in your mind.

But they were busy too, their own schedules packed with classes and commitments. You admired their relentless dedication to their studies, how they managed to immerse themselves in their work while still carving out time to enjoy life’s fleeting moments. As you thought of them, a swirl of emotions tugged at your heart—admiration mixed with a pang of guilt. You realized you hadn’t spent any real time alone with some of the ATZ boys lately, and the thought nagged at you.

Determined to push through, you glanced at your report, the words blurring together. Each sentence felt like a barrier between you and the fun, light-hearted evenings you craved. The idea of wrapping up your work propelled you forward. You could almost envision the laughter, the playful teasing, the joy of being with them. With renewed focus, you typed furiously, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you worked to complete the report, each keystroke a step closer to the moment you could finally leave the stress behind and reconnect with the people who made your heart race.

*Buzz*

The sound of the doorbell buzzed through the apartment, pulling you from your focus. You looked up from your laptop, curiosity igniting as you turned toward the door. Setting your device aside, you sprang from the couch, excitement thrumming in your chest.

Approaching the door, you peered through the peephole and felt a wide grin spread across your face. There was Jia, her eyes sparkling with mischief, balancing two cups of soda and a large takeout bag in her hands. Without a second thought, you swung the door open, unable to contain your joy.

“Jia!? What is this!?” you exclaimed, a delighted shriek escaping your lips as you pulled her inside, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Aren’t I the bestest friend ever?” Jia struck a playful pose, her eyes dancing with energy as she handed you one of the drinks. You couldn’t help but giggle at her antics.

Together, you made your way to the kitchen island, sliding onto the barstools with a sense of camaraderie. The familiar sounds of wrappers crinkling and soda fizzing filled the air as you began to feast on the fast food spread before you.

“Okay, to be completely honest…” Jia turned toward you, a fry poised between her fingers, her expression suddenly serious yet playful. You leaned in closer,

“This is in celebration of me. I couldn’t tell you through text…” She paused, her grin widening as if about to share a great secret. You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your soda, anticipation building.

“Okay…? What is it?” you prompted, eager for the scoop.

“Wonho and I… ARE OFFICIALLY DATING!” Jia shrieked, her voice ringing with glee. She playfully grabbed your legs, shaking them in excitement. Your eyes widened in surprise, a radiant smile breaking across your face.

“Shut up!?” you gasped, covering your mouth in disbelief. “YES!”

Jia burst into laughter, her joy infectious as she jumped in her seat, the sheer happiness radiating off her.

“Holy shit, finally! I’m so happy for you!” You beamed at her, your heart swelling with joy. “After who knows how long of you two messing around with each other, you finally made it official.” You stuffed a fry into your mouth, savoring the moment.

“Ugh, I know,” Jia sighed, her eyes dreamy. “Honestly, it was my fault. I was crazy scared of commitment. But something about Wonho changed me.” She giggled, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lost herself in thought.

You watched her, a fondness growing in your chest. “I’m happy for you Jia” you said with sincerity.

In that moment, your phone buzzed, interrupting the laughter between you two with the sudden notification. You glanced down, your heart skipping a beat as you saw a message from the group chat with ATZ.

Hongjoong: We are watching a movie tonight. Want to come over?

Yuyu: I’ll pick you up if you want, Y/N.

Mingi: Please come, we are watching a scary movie. I need you to hold me!

A warm smile crept across your face, and you quickly typed a response, excitement bubbling inside you.

Y/N: Jia’s over right now. I’ll try to come by later.

You looked up just in time to catch Jia eyeing you, her brow raised in curiosity as she took a sip of her fizzy soda. She leaned forward slightly, trying to peek at your screen, but you swiftly closed your phone, feigning innocence.

“Who’s got you smiling like an idiot?” she teased, squinting her eyes with playful suspicion.

“What? No one…” you replied, hastily shoving a fry into your mouth as a distraction.

“Nice try, Y/N. You’re hiding something,” Jia declared, her playful glare intensifying.

“I know when you’re lying. Who’s got your attention?” She reached for your phone, but you instinctively snatched it away, your heart racing.

“You are hiding something!” Jia exclaimed, her tone half-joking, half-serious. Without missing a beat, she jumped to conclusions. “Oh my god, is it Wooyoung?!”

You froze, stunned into silence.

“IT IS! I remember, I literally saw you two grinding on each other at the party!” Jia grabbed your shoulders, shaking you in excitement. You scrunched your face in defeat, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Or is it Yunho? I remember you had a crush on him a few summers ago, and you two have been talking a lot again,” Jia continued, her excitement bubbling over as she pulled back, tapping her chin in thought.

“Jia, please!” you exclaimed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation, though amusement danced in your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at her ability to connect the dots, despite her notoriously short attention span.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” she said softly, pressing her lips together as she stared at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, contemplating how much to reveal. “We’ve just gotten really close, that’s all,” you finally said, taking a sip of your soda to buy time.

“We?” Jia’s eyebrow shot up. “Who’s ‘we’?” She leaned against the counter, clearly intrigued.

“All of ATZ…” you mumbled, unable to meet her gaze.

“All of ATZ?!” Jia’s voice rose an octave as she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “Wait… is that why you’ve been hanging out with them so much?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the nervousness bubbling in your stomach.

“I’m confused, though. Why so suddenly?” Jia pressed, her brow furrowing in genuine concern.

“Uh… I’ve just recently become their Fraternity sweetheart…” you confessed hesitantly.

“Really?” Jia sounded unconvinced, her eyebrow arched.

“Yes,” you insisted, trying to sound confident despite your nerves.

“Y/N, ATZ never had sweethearts before! And you’ve been asked by so many other frats to be their sweetheart but always declined—until now. So what’s really going on?” Jia’s tone turned serious, her concern palpable. You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.

“Jia…” you began, meeting her gaze. She could see the distress in your eyes. “I need you to keep an open mind about this, and… promise me it stays between us.”

Jia nodded, her expression earnest as she took your hands in hers. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m… dating…” you paused, heart racing. Jia’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically.

“SAN?!” she shouted, her voice nearly shrill. “I THOUGHT YOU HATED HIM?!”

“Jia! Let me explain!!!” You threw your head back in frustration, feeling the rush of emotions bubble over.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” Jia said, her voice softening as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“I’m dating… all of them,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jia’s eyes widened further in disbelief. “You’re messing with me,” she said, laughing nervously.

“I’m not, I’m serious…” you replied, looking down, unable to meet her incredulous gaze.

“Since when?” she asked, her tone shifting to calm curiosity.

“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. They all confessed their feelings and wanted a polyamorous relationship. I was just as shocked as you are. I didn’t think I’d ever be in a relationship like this, but I really do like all of them…” Your voice trembled as you spoke, fear of judgment gripping you. Jia blinked in surprise, then broke into a chuckle.

“Wow… eight boyfriends. How fucken lucky are you”

Relief washed over you, and you leaned in for a hug, closing your eyes as you let out a sigh. “Oh my god, I thought you were going to judge me and dump me as a friend.”

“Me? Oh, Y/N-ie. You’re my best friend, and I support you in anything and everything you want to do.” She pulled back, smiling warmly. “Your secret relationship with them is safe with me.”

Holding out her pinky, Jia grinned. You chuckled at her gesture and interlocked your fingers.

“Thank you, Jia…” you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.

“So, I’m going to need all the details on this. Because damn, ALL OF THEM WANT YOU?!” she exclaimed, her witty self returning. “That’s actually so crazy because now that I think about it, you have liked almost all of them at least once!”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating as you launched into a detailed account of how your relationship with ATZ began. The two of you migrated to the couch, popping a bottle of wine and filling your glasses with the rich red liquid, as you sipped and shared everything—their dynamic, your feelings, the whirlwind of emotions that had led you to this point. You appreciated how open-minded Jia was, her laughter ringing true without a hint of judgment.

“Wait, Y/N, I just realized,” she interjected, holding up a hand to pause your story. “I thought you and San had beef since high school?”

You bit your lip, the memories flooding back.

“It’s complicated… I was confused too when I found out he liked me.” You took a sip of wine, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t deny I’ve always had feelings for him. There’s obviously something unresolved between us, but he cares for me—I can see it when we’re together. He’s just so confusing.”

Jia raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine thoughtfully.

“Hmm, interesting.” She glanced at her phone, a smile breaking across her face. “Oh! Wonho’s off work!”

Jia set her glass down, bouncing with excitement. “I’m going to head out.”

You stood up with her, laughter bubbling between you as you walked to the door. She turned to face you one last time.

“My Y/N~ thank you for opening up to me about this. Everything is safe with me. I’m so happy for you. But if any one of them hurts you, I will kill them,” she said, her eyes serious as she held your shoulders.

You nodded, laughing at her fierce loyalty. “Thank you, Jia.”

“Bye now! Love ya!” she called as she stepped out, waving enthusiastically.

“Love ya!” you shouted back, chuckling as you closed the door behind her.

———

After bidding Jia farewell, you turn and stroll back to the couch, the soft fabric welcoming you as you reach for your phone. Your fingers tap the screen as you open the group chat with ATZ, a familiar wave of excitement washing over you. You quickly type a message, letting them know you're on your way, then glance at your reflection in the nearby mirror. A few swift touches—smooth hair, a quick spritz of your favorite fragrance—make you feel a little more put together. Slipping into your shoes, you feel a tingle of anticipation, ready to step out into the evening.

Just as you’re about to grab your bag, your phone rings, the sound slicing through the air. You glance down to see San’s name flashing on the screen. Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but smile as you press the green button to answer.

“Hi, San,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m almost at your place. Just wait for me. I’ll come get you,” he replies, his tone calm and reassuring.

“You didn’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I was at the convenience store near your apartment getting snacks when you texted. It’s no big deal,” he explains, the warmth in his voice easing your initial surprise.

“Okay…” you say, feeling a mix of gratitude and a hint of annoyance that you didn’t get to argue your point.

“I’ll let you know when I’m here,” he adds, and before you can respond, the line goes dead.

Settling back onto the couch, you keep your phone close, glancing at it occasionally as the minutes tick by. Time seems to stretch, the anticipation building until you hear a firm knock on your door. You leap up from the soft cushions, your heart racing as you rush to the door. Peering through the peephole, you catch sight of San, you quickly open the door.

“San, you didn’t have to walk all the way up here. I could’ve just met you down in the lobby,” you say sheepishly.

“It’s alright. Let’s go,” he replies with a smirk, playfully ruffling your hair. The gesture sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile back.

As he turns to walk away, you follow behind him, still nervous as ever.

———

The walk to the ATZ house was enveloped in a serene quietness, the kind that felt both comfortable and charged with unspoken words. The air was thick with familiarity, as if the very atmosphere had normal between you and San. He strode slightly ahead of you with a long, effortless gait, his tall figure casting a protective shadow over your smaller frame. San’s hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, while the other grasped a crinkled black plastic bag filled to the brim with an array of snacks and drinks. His focus was fixed on the path ahead, but you found yourself stealing glances at him, lost in admiration—his strong jawline accentuated by the late afternoon sun, his perfect nose. Just as you began to lose yourself in those thoughts, his voice cut through the silence.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked nonchalantly, an eyebrow quirking up as his eyes flicked toward you. Your heart raced, and you felt your cheeks warm as you diverted your gaze forward. San chuckled lightly, and you both continued your walk.

With your eyes cast forward, you recalled your earlier conversation with Jia—a conversation that now felt like it held the weight of the world. She now knows your relationship dynamic with ATZ. You should have talked to the boys first, but Jia was your best friend, and the pressure to keep such a vital piece of information under wraps had been intense. The thoughts loomed over you as you continued walking in silence.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment shattered as you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Before you could comprehend what was happening, you found yourself enveloped in San’s arms. Your heart pounded as you looked up, only to see a biker whizzing past, careening dangerously close to you.

“What an asshole,” San muttered, his face darkening with concern as he glared at the cyclist. The unexpected warmth of his embrace took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were frozen in place.

“Are you okay?” San asked, his voice dropping to a serious tone as he looked down at you, instinctively releasing his hold. Nodding in response, you remained silent, feeling the lingering effects of his touch.

“Did you not hear the biker ringing his bell? You looked so lost in thought; I had to pull you aside,” he noted, his gaze steady and penetrating, eyebrows raised in a gentle challenge.

“Sorry… I didn’t hear,” you murmured, guilt creeping into your tone.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” San inquired softly, his voice inviting you to share your burden. You felt caught in his gaze once more, the intensity of his attention forcing you to look away.

“Sannie…” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. It shocked you, yet it felt so natural—a small sweetness in the tension of the moment. San’s heart quickened at the sound, and he bit his lip, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his tone gentler now, reaching out to grasp your wrist, sending a rush of warmth through you. The endearment made you blush, and your eyes widened at the unexpected intimacy.

“I told Jia about our relationship,” you admitted softly, looking down to hide the uncertainty in your eyes. His expression shifted, surprise flitting across his face before he smiled, easing the knot of tension inside you.

“Is that it?” he lifted your chin, compelling you to look at him. You nodded, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “I just couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She’s like my sister and deserved to know. I’m sorry…” you let the words tumble out, a sense of shame creeping into your voice.

“Why are you sorry?” San asked, his brow furrowed slightly with curiosity.

“I felt like I should’ve talked about it with you guys first before telling her. It’s your guys relationship too. But she swore not to tell anyone! Regardless, I’m sorry if I crossed the line,” you explained, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N, it’s okay.” San chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “It’s just Jia. If you trust her, so do we. Plus, we told you before—whenever you're ready to let anyone know, we will be ready too.” He ruffled your hair playfully, and relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a scorching day.

“Okay…” you replied, staring at your feet for a moment before hesitantly meeting his gaze again. “Can you help me tell the others that I told Jia?” You clasped your hands together, looking at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes. He raised an eyebrow, wearing a bemused expression as he nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He resumed walking, and you hurried to keep pace at his side.

Your heart swelled with warmth at the softness of your interaction, something that felt rare and precious between the two of you. How unexpectedly sweet it had been. It was as if a curtain had lifted, revealing the deeper elements of your relationship—elements that were often obscured by playful teasing and banter.

Yet, beneath that sweetness lingered confusion. With the other members, interactions had flowed naturally and easily, but with San, everything felt more complex. He held an alluring mix of playful charm and guarded distance. You wanted to understand him better—the man who could swing between being aloof and tender. You recalled that lingering moment from that night not long ago when San had cried, clearly from being too drunk. His constant words of “hurting you” was a statement that lingered in your thoughts, especially when paired with the memory of his endearing, clingy demeanor due to too many drinks. A quiet giggle slipped from your lips as you remembered drunk San, and he turned to you, curiosity piqued.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, an eyebrow raising in question.

You couldn’t help but smile wider at his genuine interest. “Sannie, do you remember anything from the night of XIK’s party?” You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes innocently at him.

“Yeah, why?” he replied, sounding a bit suspicious but intrigued.

“Well, do you remember anything from when we got home?” Your words danced in the air, teasing him playfully.

“Just tell me, Y/N. I don’t want to play guessing games,” he insisted, crossing his arms and facing you.

“Hm, drunk San is much nicer to me,” you retorted, giving a light roll of your eyes as you looked away, feeling confident in your teasing.

San released his crossed arms, his exasperated sigh punctuating the air. “Just tell me what I did, please,” he pleaded.

“Nothing much, you were just super clingy and kept asking for me,” you teased, walking away from him. “And you were a cry baby” You laughed as you picked up pace, the small distance between you growing with your mischievous retreat.

San’s eyes widened in shock as he followed behind you. “I what?” he called out, a mix of disbelief and genuine curiosity in his voice.

Just as you approached the front door of the ATZ house, you could hardly contain your laughter as you felt the exhilaration of the moment. Before you could even reach for the door handle, San gripped your wrist and pulled you back toward him, his eyes narrowing with playful intensity.

“What do you mean I was a cry baby?” he asked, his expression a mix of faux annoyance and genuine concern. You looked up, your heart thudding as you found yourself caught in the intimacy of his gaze.

Flustered, you glanced away. “You tripped over yourself, causing both of us to bump into the wall. Well, mostly me, since I hit my head,” you recounted, your tone casual. “Then you started crying when you saw I was hurt, and you kept saying, ‘Why do I keep hurting you?’” You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement.

San’s face shifted from incredulity to a flustered blush, the color flooding to his cheeks. He dropped your wrist, his shoulders tense as he turned away quickly, clearing his throat. The playful banter you had expected dimmed into a sudden seriousness, and confusion washed over you.

“What?” You nervously chuckled. You had expected laughter, maybe even some playful rebuttal, but instead, his sudden shift to seriousness left you frowning.

“It’s nothing” His lips tightened, and without another word, he hastily opened the front door and stepped inside, leaving you standing there, bewildered. You followed him into the house, feeling a sense of confusion from him like always.

———

Following closely behind San, you step into the dimly lit living room, where the flickering glow of the television casts elongated shadows across the walls. The boys are already engrossed in the horror movie, completely unaware of your presence.

In the corner of your eye, you spot Mingi, his form hunched over a pillow as he shields himself from the on-screen action. A smile spreads across your face, as you position yourself behind him. With a sudden burst of energy, you grab his shoulders and shout, “Boo!”

Mingi lets out a high-pitched scream that echoes through the room, nearly tumbling off the couch in his shock. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, caught off guard, join in with their own shrieks, creating a cacophony of startled yelps. Jongho and Yunho who were clearly unfazed, barely contain their laughter, while Hongjoong and Yeosang flinch, their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.

You can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound infectious as you reach out to Mingi, who is still wide-eyed, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and relief.

“Y/N!~” he whines, clutching his chest as if to calm his racing heart.

The rest of the boys are doubled over with laughter, their joy contagious. San rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he places the bags of snacks onto the coffee table.

“I’m sorry, Min! I didn’t think you’d actually get scared,” you manage between giggles, gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him.

“Well, hello to you too, baby,” Wooyoung says with an exaggerated drawl, clutching his chest as if your scare had truly wounded him. A playful giggle escapes your lips as you glide around to his sitting figure, his dramatic flair only adding to the moment’s hilarity.

“I’m so sorry, Woo,” you reply, laughter bubbling up again as you lean down and wrap your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. He responds instantly, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer as he snuggles his face into your chest. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and it makes your heart swell with affection.

Turning your attention, you notice Seonghwa watching you, a shy smile gracing his lips, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Did I scare you too, Hwa?” you ask, releasing Wooyoung’s hold and moving toward him. You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair, a gesture that always seems to ease any embarrassment he might feel.

“I was scared too,” Yunho pipes up, raising his hand as if he’s in a classroom, a teasing grin plastered across his face.

“Me too!” Yeosang chimes in, his big, doe-like eyes wide with mock innocence as he looks up at you, adding to the playful atmosphere.

You laugh at their playful banter, shaking your head in disbelief. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry for interrupting the movie,” you say, feigning seriousness as you gesture dramatically toward the screen. “Let’s get back to it!”

With a bright smile, you plop down between Mingi and Seonghwa, feeling the comfortable warmth of their presence. The room settles back into a cozy atmosphere, laughter still echoing softly as you all turn your attention to the flickering screen.

Your head nestled against Seonghwa’s shoulder, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you both sat engrossed in the flickering glow of the screen before you. The soft light illuminated your faces, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. A cozy blanket was draped over your legs, its fabric soft against your skin, partially overlapping with Seonghwa’s and Mingi’s.

Seonghwa's arm hung casually around your shoulders, his presence a protective anchor that made you feel at ease. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, a rhythmic reassurance in the quiet space. Meanwhile, Mingi sat on the other side, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh.

As the movie droned on, the initial thrill began to fade, replaced by an almost comical absurdity that made the horror elements feel more ridiculous than terrifying. The once-terrifying scenes now elicited only faint chuckles and eye rolls from you. You felt your attention slipping away, a dull ache of boredom creeping in.

With a slight huff, you shifted your position on the couch, gently lifting your head from Seonghwa’s shoulder. The warmth that had enveloped you receded slightly, but Seonghwa’s arm stayed firmly around you, a comforting presence that anchored you even as you sought a better angle to see the screen. You leaned back, glancing at him with a soft smile, but his focus remained on the movie, his brow slightly furrowed as if trying to will the story to become engaging again.

Mingi, sensing your shift, let his hand slide higher on your thigh, a subtle gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. The light touch was both casual and deliberate, igniting a spark of electricity in the air between you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at him, his eyes still glued to the screen, yet there was an unmistakable teasing glint in them that made your heart race.

You gazed around the room, the flickering glow of the television illuminated the faces of the boys. Some of them were completely absorbed, their eyes glued to the unfolding drama, while others started scrolling through their phones, just as equally bored of the movie.

You try to bring your focus back onto the screen, but it was difficult with the feeling of Mingi’s fingertips sliding gently against the soft fabric of your tights, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver coursing through your body. Your heart raced, and your breath hitched as you sensed a shift in Mingi's intentions. His pinky finger—light and teasing—traced a line just below your hip, hovering between casualness and something far more intimate. The sensation of his touch resonated through you, igniting a warmth that crept up your spine and spread through your entire being.

Seonghwa glanced at you, his gaze sharp and teasing, as he caught the flustered expression on your face, cheeks painted a deep crimson. A playful smirk crept across his lips as he detected Mingi’s hand moving persistently beneath the soft fabric of the blanket. Seonghwa’s eyes followed the trajectory of Mingi’s fingers, and he couldn’t help but study the way your body responded, the gentle rise and fall of your chest betraying the electric sensations coursing through you.

A wave of envy washed over him—the way Mingi seemed to effortlessly elicit such reactions from you. Unable to resist the urge to convey his own affection, Seonghwa shifted closer, his hand brushing against your shoulder. He let his fingers gently knead the delicate muscles there. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your temple before allowing his hand to drift down to the nape of your neck. His fingertips began to massage you, sending unexpected shivers racing through your body like wildfire.

Mingi, ever perceptive, caught the way you instinctively reacted to his touch. He could feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. Suddenly, you let out a soft gasp—a sound that cut through the ambient noise of the television—as Mingi’s fingers brushed against you again, teasing and exploring the warmth hidden beneath the blanket.

Both men exchanged looks, their eyes locking for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They shared a smirk, one that held the promise of continued teasing, before their gazes dropped back to you.

Your face was a striking shade of red, as if you were caught in a sunset, and you bit your bottom lip in an attempt to focus on the screen, fighting against the distractions pulling you under. Mingi leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his deep voice low and teasing. You nodded shyly, refusing to turn your head to meet his gaze, a gesture that only fueled the fire of their amusement.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he observed your reaction.

“You sure, darling? You keep moving,” he teased, his voice vibrating through your core, making your blush deepen as you diverted your gaze down to your lap.

“Mm, I’m okay…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, desperate to avoid drawing attention from the others in the room.

“Okay…” they both echoed back, their voices a perfect duet.

They admired your side profile, the curve of your jaw, the flutter of your eyelashes, and, without a second thought, they leaned in closer. Their lips brushed against your cheeks at the same time, a tender, simultaneous gesture that sent your heart racing. Your eyes widened in surprise, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact. Heat flooded your entire face.

Seonghwa pulled away slightly, his chuckle a low rumble that vibrated in the air, a sound that only made you flush more. Mingi, with a devilish glint in his eye, peppered a few more playful kisses along your cheek and down towards your neck, each one igniting your skin with warmth before he finally turned his head back towards the screen. Seonghwa followed suit, his gaze returning to the flickering images in front of you, but not before stealing another glance at you, admiration written across his features.

Without noticing, the film reached its conclusion. The screen faded to black before the end credits began to roll, accompanied by a sudden, loud exhale from Jongho. As he stood up from the couch, a sweeping wave of disappointment washed over him. “What a dumb ass movie,” he declared, flicking the light switch on and flooding the room with dim illumination.

“I agree,” chimed in Yunho, stretching his arms above his head, his voice resonating with an air of relaxed camaraderie. “It was good for the first thirty minutes, but then it just started getting weird.”

You shifted on the couch, pushing yourself upright as you cleared your throat, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, a remnant of Seonghwa and Mingi’s earlier teasing. Their playful banter had left you flustered and disoriented.

“You okay, Y/N?” Yeosang asked, concern etched in his features as he turned his gaze to you. Your eyes widened at his inquiry, and a nervous laugh slipped from your lips. “Oh, yeah! I’m okay,” you replied, forcing a smile, hoping to mask the storm of emotions swirling within.

“You sure, baby? Your face is all red,” Yeosang observed, leaning in closer to get a better look at you. The softness of his tone sent a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Ah, I’m just thirsty,” you stammered, grasping at the excuse like a lifeline, desperate to sidestep the palpable tension that had been lingering between Seonghwa and Mingi and you.

As if sensing your unease, Yeosang rose from the couch, adopting the grace of a gentleman. “Let’s go get you some water,” he suggested, extending his hand toward you. You felt your cheeks heat even more as you reached out, taking his hand. A soft thrill coursed through you as warmth enveloped your skin.

As you stood, you felt Seonghwa's and Mingi's hands brush against you, a reminder of their earlier closeness, but you stepped away, allowing Yeosang to guide you toward the kitchen. The cool tiles beneath your feet contrasted with the heat still lingering in the air.

———

Yeosang moved purposefully, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you.

“Thanks, Yeo,” you murmured, taking a few sips, the cool liquid refreshing against your lips. After handing the glass back to him, Yeosang smiled, and without a moment's pause, he finished the remainder, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

Yeosang placed the empty glass on the counter behind you, ruffling your hair playfully as he moved closer. You suddenly found yourself against the sleek marble table, trapped in the warm orbit of his presence. “You still flustered from Mingi and Seonghwa kissing you?” he teased, his husky voice wrapping around you like an intoxicating melody. Your blush deepened, and you turned your head away, feeling exposed.

“You saw?” you asked softly, catching a glimpse of his playful yet serious expression.

“Oh baby, all of us saw,” Yeosang chuckled, tenderly pulling your chin back until your eyes met his. His hands slipped to your hips, thumbs drawing gentle circles on your skin. The intimate gesture ignited a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, and instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, finding comfort in his embrace.

“You know, I’d never thought you’d be this much of a teaser,” you remarked, your fingers finding their way into his hair, playing absentmindedly. “You’re such a gentleman, yet you tease so much” you add with a giggle.

He lowered his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked back up at you. “I’m only like this towards the people I really like.” The sincerity in his voice wrapped around your heart, and his hands traveled higher on your waist, his caresses sending electrifying tingles through you.

“So, are there other girls that get to see this side of you?” you pretended to pout, a playful challenge that earned a bright smile from him.

“No, no. You’re the only girl that gets to see this side of me. I was just talking about the guys… my family. I’m more comfortable with you all, and I can be myself,” Yeosang continued, his gaze scanning your face before lingering on your soft lips.

“I’m glad I can be one of those people, then,” you whispered softly, feeling an undeniable connection with him.

“May I?” Yeosang asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart raced as you nodded in response. And before you could fully process what was happening, his warm, soft lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was tender yet deep, an exquisite blend of passion and sweet affection. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were crafting a work of art, and you felt yourself melting into him, intoxicated by the moment.

When he finally pulled away, you whimpered softly, reluctant to break the blissful intimacy. Yeosang chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before planting gentle kisses along your cheek. He trailed down to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you as you surrendered to the sensation of his warm breath and soft kisses.

“Y-Yeo…” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through you. He continued to explore your skin, moving from your neck to your collarbone, his touch igniting your senses.

“Damn Yeo, are you trying to devour her?” The teasing voice of Jongho interrupted the sacred moment. You gasped, turning your head to see him standing in the doorframe with a smug smirk.

“Fuck off,” Yeosang muttered against your skin, refusing to let his lips leave you even for a moment.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Jongho ventured further into the kitchen, a mischievous smile on his face as he approached you. “You enjoying this, pretty?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair, sending currents of warmth spiraling through you. You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching in your throat. The sound of chuckles vibrated around you from both boys—Jongho’s and Yeosang’s—as Yeosang’s lips continued their descent lower.

Jongho cupped your cheek, tilting your face toward him before pressing his own soft lips against your forehead. His kisses trailed down your skin, lingering on your cheek before finally finding your lips, weaving a tender yet fervent kiss that made your heart race.

As desire swelled within you, you whimpered into the kiss, overwhelmed by the sensations wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The knowledge of what you had signed up for in this polyamorous relationship danced in the corner of your mind, but nothing could prepare you for the heady rush of being kissed by two of your boyfriends simultaneously.

Yeosang shifted slightly, giving Jongho room to deepen the kiss. His hands found their way around your back, holding you close, anchoring you in the moment.

“O-oh God,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all as Yeosang smiled against your skin, playfully biting you.

“Alright, enough, you two” A new voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see Hongjoong grinning at the scene before him, his smirk playful yet admonishing. “Let Y/N breathe,” he added, stepping forward to pull Yeosang and Jongho off you gently.

Both Jongho and Yeosang exhaled in exaggerated sighs, their lips glossy and flushed like yours, a mirrored reflection of the intoxicating atmosphere you’d been engulfed in moments before.

“Fuck, if you wanted a taste, you could’ve just joined us,” Jongho joked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he caught Hongjoong’s gaze. Yeosang chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in your flushed face, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion.

“For you two being the most quiet members, you’re so perverted,” Hongjoong laughed, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. He reached for your hand, a soft smile brightening his features. “Come on, let’s go. I want to show you something.”

Despite the heat still radiating in your cheeks from the flustered makeout session, you managed to nod softly, curiosity replacing the dizzying warmth in your chest as Hongjoong pulled you out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of lingering whispers and shared glances behind you.

———

Hongjoong's hand slipped into yours as he led you up the staircase, a warmth spreading between your fingers. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the narrow hallway, painting everything in a cozy light. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, wondering what he had planned. Suddenly, Hongjoong turned to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, curious yet hesitant.

He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug, pulling you snugly against him. “Hm, nothing much,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I just wanted you to myself.” As he buried his face into the crook of your neck, you could feel the warmth radiating off him, mingling with your own. Laughter bubbled up from within you as you pressed against him, enjoying the closeness.

“I don’t like sharing,” Hongjoong mumbled into your skin, his breath tickling you. You pulled back slightly, confusion etching across your face as you searched his gaze.

“Joong… what do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brows in curiosity.

Hongjoong chuckled softly, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. His thumb lightly stroked your cheek, a calmness washing over you. “Not like that, baby,” he assured you, his voice a low murmur. “I just meant that I want us to be alone when it comes to being more intimate”

You tilted your head, pondering his words. “But you always hug and give me kisses in front of everyone?” you pointed out, slightly baffled.

“Yeah, I know…” He leaned in ever so closer, his warm breath washing over your face as he spoke. “…but those are quick hugs and quick kisses.” His voice dropped to a whisper, intimate and charged. “This time… I want to take my time.”

With each word, his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours, barely brushing against your skin. A hitch caught in your throat at his teasing. His nose nudged playfully against yours, leaving you yearning for more. The anticipation made you whine softly, a plea for him to deepen the connection.

“Joong, don’t tease me,” you whispered, feeling a heat creep up your cheeks at the thought of everyone’s earlier teasing. “Everyone has been at it today…” The complaint tumbled from your lips, desperate for his touch.

"Okay, okay, sorry," Hongjoong chuckled, pulling away with a sheepish grin. "But on a serious note, there’s something I want to show you."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with a spark of excitement as he gestured toward his desk. He stood, walking around to your side and guiding you gently to the cushioned chair in front of his computer. "Sit here," he said softly, his voice warm as he pulled the chair closer to the screen, making sure you were comfortable.

He hovered for a moment behind you, his arm gently resting across your shoulders as he reached for the mouse. You could feel the weight of his touch, warm and reassuring, as he moved the cursor across the screen with careful precision.

"Do you remember that song I was working on in the library?" he asked, his voice filled with an almost shy anticipation.

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, your eyes briefly flicking from his face to the screen before responding. "Yeah, I remember."

Hongjoong smiled, a soft, almost secretive curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. "I finished it," he murmured, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before he clicked open a file. "I want you to listen to it."

He grabbed a pair of headphones from the side of the desk and gently placed them over your ears. His hands lingered there for just a moment, his fingers brushing your skin so lightly it almost felt like a whisper. You tried not to think too much about it as he clicked the spacebar to play the track.

The soft hum of music filled your ears, and immediately, your body relaxed into the melody. The beat was gentle, the lyrics intimate, drawing you in with every note. Your heart seemed to sync with the rhythm, beating in time with the music. There was something about the song—something in the way it made you feel like the world had momentarily slowed down, like you were wrapped in the warmth of his sound. The lyrics spoke of love, of longing, of dreams and promises, and as the final verse came to a close, you felt a lump in your throat.

When the song ended, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You pulled the headphones from your ears, turning toward Hongjoong with a bright, genuine smile.

He was looking at you nervously, his lips pressed into a tight line, waiting for your reaction. "How was it?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as he took the headphones from your hands and set them on the desk.

You didn’t hesitate. "Joong, it’s beautiful. I love it so much," you said, your voice thick with sincerity, as your heart swelled with emotion. "It’s incredible."

Hongjoong let out a small, nervous laugh, his cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. "You can be honest, Y/N. If you didn’t like it, it’s okay."

You shook your head, leaning forward a bit. "Hongjoong, I’m serious! This song is so good! I need it on my phone—like, right now," you said with a playful giggle, reaching out for his hands, desperate to hold onto some piece of him, some connection to the music that felt like it had touched your soul.

Hongjoong’s smile softened, and he reached for your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours. "I’m submitting this for my final project," he said, his voice now a little quieter, tinged with something deeper. He looked at you, his gaze both tender and earnest. "And I just wanted to tell you... thank you."

You blinked, confused. "Why are you thanking me?" you asked, your voice a little breathless from the intensity of the moment.

Hongjoong’s smile grew even more gentle, and he leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper. "You helped me finish it. You’re my muse." His words hung in the air, simple yet profound, and your heart skipped a beat.

You felt your cheeks warm, a flush creeping across your face as his words settled into your chest. "Hongjoong..." you whispered, the weight of his sentiment making you feel both overwhelmed and cherished all at once.

Without thinking, you stood up from the chair, your legs suddenly feeling unsteady as the emotions swirled inside you. You stepped toward him, closing the gap between you, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle embrace. The scent of him—a mix of clean cologne and something distinctly him—filled your senses, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"What did I do to deserve you guys?" you whispered, your voice shaky with a mix of awe and gratitude.

Hongjoong’s arms immediately encircled your waist, pulling you closer, his body warm and solid against yours. His grip was firm, as though he never wanted to let go. You both stood there for a long moment, the world outside the room fading away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the space you shared.

You rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his as you looked down toward his lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered out, longing for his touch. He smirked, the mischievous gleam in his eyes igniting a flame deep inside you, as he finally devoured your lips.

The connection was electric—soft yet maddeningly intense. The room filled with the wet sounds of your lips moving in a passionate dance, your breaths melding together in the heat of the moment. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, as your own arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

You stumbled backward, your legs brushing against the soft edge of his bed, collapsing onto the plush mattress with a soft 'thud.'

“Fuck, Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured against your lips, eyes glazed with desire. You responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, refusing to let go. His knees pressed against your waist, pinning you down as the two of you continued your heated exploration of each other's mouths.

“Baby, wait—” Hongjoong panted, caught off guard as your kisses trailed from his lips to his cheek and down his jawline. You ignored him, your lips marking their path towards his neck—inviting and tempting.

“Y/N…” His voice was a strained whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his control slipping as he groaned, quickly catching your wrists and pinning them above your head. The confusion in your gaze made him gulp.

“I said wait, darling.” His voice was softer now, leaning down to place a gentle peck on your lips. “Let’s not move too fast…” The sincerity in his gaze made your heart flutter, but you felt the throbbing heat of desire coursing through your veins.

“No… it’s okay, Joong… I want to,” you replied softly, uncertainty mingling with determination as you pouted.

“Fuck, baby, I know. So do I.” He sighed, the weight of the moment evident in his expression. He released your wrists, his hands resting on the mattress beside you as he tried to collect himself.

“Then let’s do it…” you whispered, leaning closer. The raw yearning in your voice hung heavily in the air.

“We can’t, baby… not yet,” he hissed, shifting away from you. Panic surged deep within, and you sat up, the distance between you feeling unbearable.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely breaking the silence. Hongjoong gazed at you, concern etched across his handsome face, as he cupped your cheeks—his caress gentle and reassuring.

“I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to sleep with you. As much as you may think I’m not, it’s just as important for me. I— We, want to show you that we really care for you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his affection creating a comforting bubble around you. “The boys and I agreed to not do anything just yet, okay baby?”

His genuine honesty struck a chord in your heart, the ache of warmth spreading through you. You nodded, a soft smile emerging despite the lament of pent-up desire.

“Okay…” you said softly, and Hongjoong smiled back, capturing your lips once again in a gentle kiss, his hands finding their way to your lap.

Then, without meaning to, his fingers brushed against the fabric of your tights, and an immediate awareness rushed over him. The dampness beneath his fingertips sent shockwaves through your system. He paused, pulling back to assess you, his eyes widening with realization.

“Fuck, you got that wet just from kissing?” His voice was thick with surprise, as his fingers tapped against the moist fabric, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“Joong~,” you gasped, embarrassment flooding you. Heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Remind me, who kissed you tonight?” Hongjoong began drawing lazy patterns against the damp patch, teasing you relentlessly. Your tongue felt tied with embarrassment, and you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

“Tell me, baby,” he whispered, the smirk on his lips telling you he wasn’t letting you off the hook.

“Mingi… Hwa… Jongho… and Yeo…” you whimpered, the confession rolling off your tongue. The teasing darkness in his eyes flared with satisfaction.

“And?” he pressed, his lips ghosting over yours.

“And you…” you admitted, your voice barely a breath.

“I can’t leave you all pent up like this, huh, baby?” Hongjoong murmured, his voice low and sultry, teasing with intent.

“Wouldn’t be very good of me as your boyfriend, now would it?” he continued, playful yet serious.

“I thought you said we can’t do it…” you whimpered, the confusion heating your cheeks even more.

“Yeah… but the boys and I only agreed to actual intercourse.” His lips found your neck, planting soft kisses that sent tingling shivers down your spine. “Never said anything about touching you… with my fingers.”

He pulled away just enough to whisper against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Want me to touch you, darling?”

Your heart raced at the tenderness in his voice as you felt the thrill of anticipation rush through you. “Y-yes, please,” you breathed, tilting your neck instinctively to give him more access. You could barely contain the yearning, the desperate need building inside you, and as his fingers danced along the fabric of your clothing, you knew this night was far from over.

end of chapter 5….

Next chapter

Author’s note: FINALLY! I know I’m sorry for the super long wait 🥲. I was so busy this past month! Anyways I hope you all like this chapter😝✋. Chapter 6 will be out soon!

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#ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez writing #yeostinywrites #hongjoong smut #yeosang smut #san smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #seonghwa smut #jongho smut #wooyoung smut #mydeardarlingatz

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mothandpidgeon · 5 months ago

Text

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 4

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old cursed witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), nudity, alcohol, only one bed, masturbation, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: Hello again, my friends. This chapter took much, MUCH longer than I expected and also much longer. It probably would have been a lot faster had i not been encouraged to add some smut you know who you are. There are at least 3 more parts to this story. Thank you for being on this journey!

Big thank you to @lowlights and @schnarfer for advice on this and to @moonlitbirdie for betaing and loving me unconditionally.

🐈‍⬛

He’s having that dream again. The one where he’s human and you’re holding him, lips against his shoulderblade, fingers stroking the coarse hairs low on his belly. He’d live in these dreams if he could.

After the disappointment of the night before, Ezra revels in it, even if this is fleeting.

He should never have gotten his hopes up. It wasn’t just the risk to consider but the complexity of the spell. You’re not a child but as witches go, your powers are still young. And, with his last minute decision, the two of you bodged together the potion in less than a day. The chances that it would have been successful were so slim, he’d been a fool to believe that you could pull off such a feat. He’d been caught up in the moment, your unfailing belief in him, the tantalizing question what if…

At least he has his dreams. Half awake, Ezra reminds himself that had the spell had worked, he wouldn’t be laying naked in your arms. There’s no knowing how things would change if he did.

Sinking into the sweetness of the dream, he can’t help but roll over and bury his face in your neck, purring against your pulse. Instead of being met with your mouth, your hands searching for more of him, you scream.

It’s enough not only to wake him but startle him out of the bed. What would normally be a swift leap off of the mattress, landing on his feet, is an inelegant tumble to the floor, knocking his head and pulling the sheets off with him. You’re actually shrieking. It’s not just some figment of his imagination. A string of creative expletives leave you as Ezra tries to untangle himself from the covers. When he finally rights himself, his heart beating like a rabbit, he finds you pressed against the headboard with a look of terror on your face.

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” you shout, your heels digging in the mattress as you scoot away from him.

“Easy! It’s me, little mage! It’s me!” he says, breathless.

Your eyes somehow manage to grow even wider.

“Ezra?” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “It worked.”

His head is spinning so quickly that your words take a moment to sink in. Another is spent in disbelief as he look down at his hands, outstretched in submission. Ten fingers. There are legs snarled in the bedsheets not covered in black fur but with wiry hairs.

Ezra touches his nose, still bent from where he broke it in his youth. He feels the divot of the scar on his cheek, the whiskers on his upper lip. All as he was.

He stares, speechless for once in his life.

“Ez, it fucking worked!” you cry, tumbling across the bed and diving over the side.

You clasp your hands on either side of his face, your eyes wild with delight, and your laughter is a mix of joy and relief. He joins you, it’s contagious, laughing and gripping into your shoulders. If he didn’t feel your palms against his cheeks, he’d think this was still a dream.

Luckily he has the presence of mind not to plant a kiss on your mouth though with the amount of glee bouncing between the two of you, he doubts you’d protest.

“We did it!” you say.

“You did it,” Ezra corrects, marveling at you.

You amaze him more each day. Not only did you do some incredible and complex magic but you foresaw it all. Beautiful, clever, talented. And now you’ve given him his greatest gift. He’s human once more.

Your eyes dance across his face in turn, taking in the new details

“It’s really you,” you say.

You stroke at his face with your thumb. It’s a light touch but to Ezra, the sensation is so powerful he’s afraid he’ll shatter into a thousand pieces.

You smile softly and reach for his hair. “Your patch,” you say, twisting the white strands out of his forehead.

“Oh, Ez!” you exclaim.

Overwhelmed by it all, a dam bursts. Tears are slipping down his face without him even knowing. Centuries of them finally making their escape.

You lean in, press your forehead against his as you have so many times before yet it’s so new. The bridge of your nose brushes against his, your lips hover so close he can feel your breath. You stroke behind his ear, fingers in his hair, a sensation that’s familiar, grounding.

He’s so grateful for you, for your faith in him.

You sniffle and he realizes that you’re just as emotional. Your cheeks glisten with tears when you pull away, still shaking your head in disbelief.

“Thank you,” Ezra says. Chokes. He’s never done this properly though he’s tried to show it. It’s too difficult to put into words, even for someone as verbose as he is. He’s grateful with a depth he can’t find words for though he’s always considered himself a master of them.

Tears well in your eyes again but these aren’t like the joyful ones you just shed. Your lips quiver. Ezra catches one as it slides down your cheek with his fingertips. He’s watched you cry so many times and he’s always wanted to do that.

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. It feels better than he’s ever imagined. You fit in his arms so perfectly, he could hold you for a thousand years. He inhales your scent, familiar to him but different now. His senses have dulled but drawn close, he loses himself in it.

“Ezra,” you say after a long moment. “I just realized. You’re totally naked right now.”

Perhaps he should be embarrassed, worried that this is your first glimpse of him and you’ve seen all that there is to see. But he couldn’t care less.

The two of you descend into giggles.

—

“This is how I’m to make my debut in the world?” Ezra asks, stepping out of your bedroom.

He’s wearing the clothes you picked out for him, all that you could find that would encompass his broad frame. Your sweatpants are cinched tight around his slim waist, ending far above his ankles. Below that, his toes overhang the edge of your old flip flops. The outfit is finished with a big sweatshirt you bought several Halloweens ago– the words Witch, please emblazoned on the front in a cutesy font.

A startled snort leaves you and he scowls.

“I’m sorry,” you say, covering your smile with both hands. “You look–”

“Like a buffoon,” he says.

“Like you need to go shopping,” you correct.

You wait for Ezra outside of the dressing room, your back pressed against the door. The very first stop outside of the confines of your apartment is the local department store to get him something normal to wear. Ezra’s an oddity, everything from the way he speaks to his awkwardness adjusting to walking on two legs make him stick out. An ironic sweatshirt and sandals aren’t going to help him blend.

The excitement is still buzzing through your veins. Every few minutes you want to open the changing room door and make sure that he’s still there, still human. A couple of times you even peek under the door just to see his feet haven’t turned back into paws. It’s really happening. You’re out in the world with Ezra. Ezra the human, a man. You changed him yourself, just as your dream had predicted, but you’re less fixated on the feat of magic and more on what he’s transformed into.

Ezra’s not at all who you were expecting under the fur. He’s remarkably handsome. Tall and broad shouldered. A strong nose accentuated by a dark mustache. His mouth is almost always set in a pout, full bottom lip turned out, jaw dotted with stubble.

He’s not entirely unrecognizable. There’s something about the mirth in his smile that feels familiar, a slyness in his eye.

Still It’s hard to believe that this is your Ezra, the little cat that curled up in your lap, tiptoed behind you on the back of the couch. He’s all man, big enough to swallow you up in his embrace. If you were strangers, you’d be too intimidated to even look him in the eye.

You giggle to yourself at how ridiculous that thought is. He’s Ezra. Your best friend. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. And if you told him he was good looking he’d never shut up about it.

“What’s so funny?” he asks from the other side of the door, his voice muffled as he brings a shirt over his head.

“Just thinking about how my sweats fit you,” you say.

“Breathe a word of that to a soul—“ he grumbles.

“Are you done yet?”

He sighs and you hear the latch on the door and there he is again. It knocks the air out of your lungs to be face to face with him once again, with that new face. Ezra stares back at you. His eyes are nothing like those sharp, golden eyes you’ve known for so many years. They’re deep brown, big and round— funny enough, more like a puppy dog than a cat.

Your gaze falls down onto the outfit he’s chosen.

”What happened here?” You ask.

His shirt is only half buttoned leaving a large swath of that golden chest in view, a constellation of freckles dotting his neck clavicle. You noticed them when he was sprawled out on your bedroom floor, tried to keep your focus on those instead of letting your eyes wander too much.

”I’m afraid I haven’t gained mastery over my thumbs yet,” he admits sheepishly.

“Let me.” You try to hide your grin.

You work the buttons, careful not to let your knuckles brush his front. His warmth radiates through the thin cotton and you’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re standing. It shouldn’t be so tense. This is the same Ezra after all, the cat you snuggled to sleep every night. Nothing’s changed between you and yet it’s definitely not the same. You feel him watching you and you swear he’s holding his breath. He shifts uncomfortably.

”Are you sure these trousers are right?” He asks finally, palms grazing the fronts of his jeans. “They’re exceedingly restrictive.”

”When’s the last time you wore pants?” You ask him.

“When you tried to put me in that ridiculous cowboy get up,” he reminds you.

“You were so cute!” you laugh, remembering how he flopped down on the floor in protest.

He scoffs.

“Come see yourself,” you say, motioning towards the trio full length mirrors at the end of the hall of dressing rooms.

Ezra’s a sight to behold in his new outfit. A crisp white shirt tucked into a pair of dark jeans. If you squint you can see the man he once was in one of those romantic billowy shirts.

“Looks good,” you say.

Ezra’s furrowed brow smooths and he catches your eye in the mirror with a bashful smile.

“You have a dimple,” you say.

You keep noticing new things about him as the day goes on. There’s a little bald patch in his beard, wrinkles around his eyes when he laughs.

“I suppose I forgot,” he says, blushing. “Am I not what you expected?”

If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he sounded nervous.

“I don’t know,” you say. He’s not what you pictured yet he’s exactly right in every way. He’s better than you pictured. He looks like that. How could you expect he was existing in your presence all this time?

You remind yourself quickly how wrong it is to be thinking of Ezra that way. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. How many nights did you stay up pouring your heart out to him about life? It’s just the novelty, you assure yourself. Once you get used to him, it’ll be different.

“I guess I thought you’d look like Ichabod Crane,” you tease.

“Hilarious.”

––

“You should go to the Grand Canyon,” you say.

All night, you’ve been brainstorming a list for Ezra, all of the things he can finally do now that he’s turned. The two of you already crossed off the first thing— eat dinner at a fancy restaurant— and you’re working on the second item— drinks at the local watering hole.

It’s a busy Saturday night but you worked some magic to get a cozy table. The place is rustic by design, the kind of bar invented for the Brooklyn transplants that are renovating barns into Air BnBs.

It’s chock full of mortals but Ezra couldn’t care less if he were surrounded by the witch hunters of Salem, just being out and about with you feels like a thrill.

“What about having a human body is necessary to visit the Grand Canyon?” Ezra asks.

The more drinks you had in you, the more esoteric the ideas became.

“I don’t know. You could hike?” you say.

“I think I had the advantage with four legs. I’ll pass,” he says.

“I guess you’re right,” you say. Then you point an excited finger at him. “Learn to drive!”

He tilts his head, considering it but you’re already onto the next one.

“Dancing!”

“I’m not sure I know how it’s done these days,” he says. He’d enjoyed dancing when he was human the first time, mainly because it gave him ample opportunity to touch and flirt.

“I don’t know. You just move,” you tell him. “Come on. I’ll dance with you right now.” You reach your hand out for him across the table to show that you really mean it.

Ezra’s seen you dance hundreds of times. At witches gatherings, of course, but many more times in the kitchen, wearing your pajamas and singing off key, you scooping him up and rocking him to the beat. You might not be a good dancer, he’s not one to judge, but he’s always loved watching your hips find a rhythm.

He’s still unsteady on his feet with less than 24 hours on his new legs and yet he couldn’t care less if he looks a fool if it means he can dance with you. The two of you are sure to draw attention— no one else is dancing despite the fact that the music’s so loud he has to shout to be heard. That doesn’t bother him. Let these mortals see you with him for once. Let him pretend for a moment that you’re his.

He takes your hand, his heart speeding up in anticipation of your body being close, when your face falls. Your gaze is somewhere past him and you pull out of his grasp.

“Oh, fuck,” you say.

Ezra looks over his shoulder to see a familiar face. A lanky guy carrying a guitar case stops in his tracks when he spies you. The last time Ezra saw this mortal he had his paws all over you.

“Shit. I completely forgot. Connor’s playing a gig here tonight. He invited me,” you groan.

This fuck. Ezra’s joyous mood is jolted by the memory of Connor slobbering over your neck, the sounds of the two of you on the couch that he tried desperately to block out, the jealousy that sickened him. Here was one of the mortals that had touched and tasted you in the way Ezra had only dreamed interrupting his first chance to truly be close to you.

But his lips crack into a wicked smile as Connor’s face twists in disappointment. Ezra knows how it looks to him. You’re here at his show where he hoped to woo you with song and you’re cozied up to another man. How many times had Ezra himself been forced to endure such humiliation?

“Hey,” you say with unconvincing friendliness, selling it by standing up to offer a hug when Connor finally works up the nerve to come by.

He keeps a wary eye on Ezra who in turn sits up straighter, chest out. He makes himself larger the same way he would passing one of the strays in the graveyard. It’s been hard to adjust to his new body, constantly bumping into things because he’s bigger, off balance without a tail. But right now, he couldn’t be more pleased with his new form.

“Who’s your friend?” Connor asks without exchanging any pleasantries. He’s not masking his annoyance very well.

“Oh. This is—“

“Ezra,” Ezra offers.

“Hey,” Connor says dismissively.

“He’s a friend of mine,” you add quickly. “Wanted to tag along to your show.”

“I hear you’re quite the talent,” he says.

There’s a twitch in Connor’s brow as you kick Ezra under the table.

“I guess you need to go set up,” you encourage, so ready to be rid of him.

Ezra has other plans.

“You must have time for a drink first. What’ll it be?” He asks. He can feel your eyes on him, trying to figure out his ulterior motive.

“IPA,” Connor answers after a moment’s hesitation.

Ezra’s powers tingle as he waves over the waitress.

Connor finds a chair and joins you at the little table. The beer sets his mind at ease as you bullshit about how Ezra is an old friend, trying to save this guy’s pride. It seems like he buys it. Like all mortals, he’s a bit dim.

He’s ridiculous, too. Talks a lot without asking you questions. Thinks he’s terribly interesting when he’s no different from the other mortal men that have shared your bed.

“Isn’t your cat’s name Ezra?” Connor finally realizes after droning on about David Bowie as if he were the one that heard an original pressing of Ziggy Stardust.

You stutter for a moment but you don’t have to come up with an answer because Ezra chimes in.

“Now, what was it you were attempting to elucidate with regards to psychedelic rock?” Ezra asks.

You stifle a laugh, choking down some of your drink to hide it. This time, beneath the table you’re pressing your knee into his.

“Uh,” Connor says, trying to gather his thoughts. “Yeah.”

He clears his throat, runs a hand through his hair then reaches for his beer again.

“Well a lot of people think it starts with The Beatles but actually,” Connor lifts his drink to his lips in a theatrical pause, taking a swig, but his expression contorts in confusion, then disgust. He spits the beer back into his glass and with it comes a spider, it’s spindly legs thrashing about wildly. “Ah! Fuck!” he sputters.

In his fright, Connor’s arms flail cartoonishly. The glass flies from his grasp and hits the table top, spilling its contents in all directions. You cry out, jumping up to avoid getting a lap full of IPA. The spider spins in the slippery puddle, trying to scurry every which way. Connor tries to distance himself from the arachnid but he legs of his chair catch and he topples over backwards onto the floor.

All conversation dies away around you as the other patrons have turned to watch the chaotic scene– Connor’s feet pointed up towards the ceiling, the floor beneath the table pooling with spilled beer. Ezra sits cool as a cucumber, his side of the table miraculously dry.

”Careful there, Connor,” he says. “Just a pretty little spider.”

You shoot him a look and he shrugs innocently. Your eyes say behave but it’s contradicted by a budding smile.

“You good?” you ask.

Connor lays there wincing, probably much more embarrassed than he is bruised. Ezra offers a hand to help him up, all friendly smiles. Connor scowls but he has no choice but to accept, letting himself be hoisted to his feet by the other man. The crowd loses interest as Connor dusts himself off.

“What a tumult,” Ezra says with a laugh. He slaps Connor on the shoulder so hard that he stumbles forward.

The waitress comes over with a bar rag and a judgemental look.

“Did you hurt yourself?” You ask.

”I’m fine,” Connor answers a little too quickly. He flattens his ruffled hair. “Listen, maybe I should just go warm up.” He motions towards the little platform that serves as the stage.

”A wise idea,” Ezra says and Connor darts away.

”You’re bad,” you say but you’re practically bursting with laughter.

Ezra considers continuing his mischief while Connor’s performing— make him play the wrong notes or break a guitar string— but he doesn’t have to. Connor’s eyes keep finding you as he sings his whiney little songs and each time, Ezra’s right there. Leaning in close to talk to you over the music, making little quips that have you close to spitting out your drink. Right now, you couldn’t care less about this mortal, busy trying to convince Ezra that karaoke should be added to his adventure list.

“Let’s go,” you say after draining your glass.

“But your friend’s not done,” he teases.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” you say.

You offer Connor a sad little wave as you get up from the table, taking Ezra’s hand in yours to lead him through the throng of people crowding the bar.

He watches Connor’s face fall as his eyes follow you to the exit. It’s a silly little revenge but to Ezra it’s delicious, a comeuppance for every mortal that’s been in your bed. Maybe Connor thinks you’re taking Ezra home to do the same to him. Good. It’s so delightful that Ezra doesn’t even care that it isn’t true.

––

“What have I unleashed on the world?” you ask with laughter, crossing the threshold of your apartment.

“I have no idea to what you are referring,” Ezra says but there’s a smirk on his lips.

“You’ve gone from hairballs in shoes to public humiliation.” You should be more sympathetic to poor Connor but you can’t stop giggling. Every time you recall the sight of him flying backwards, flapping his arms, you’re in stitches again.

“Just a little harmless magic to warm up my powers,” he replies. “Not to worry, little mage, I’m sure he’ll still be more than happy to accept a booty call.”

You shake your head. Between the awful conversation, the spew of spider, and the wailing of his songs, you have no interest in revisiting things with Connor.

In the kitchen you pour two glasses of water, adding a few drops of a tincture you keep handy for hangovers. You’re still a little tipsy, will probably wake up with a headache in the morning, but you don’t care. You can’t remember the last time you had so much fun with another witch. Not that it should surprise you. It’s Ezra after all.

”You know, you can’t fuck with these mortals too much. You do that to the wrong guy and they’ll start hunting us again,” you warn. You hand Ezra one of the glasses and flop down on the couch beside him.

“But it’s alright to toy with their emotions?” Ezra retorts. “How many hearts have you broken?”

You scoff in mock offense but you know he’s right. You’ve never let yourself get attached to any mortals. Somewhere, deep down, you knew you’d never have a serious relationship with one of them so there was no fear of falling in love, no worry about their feelings, no risk of getting hurt.

Now that you’ve stopped moving, fatigue sets in. You rest your head on Ezra’s shoulder. You’re starting to get used to the fact that you can actually do that but it hasn’t gotten old yet. An absent grin plays on your lips.

“Did you have a good first human day?” you ask.

You feel his chuckle under your cheek.

“I did indeed,” he says.

Your smile widens. Ezra’s arm wraps around your shoulders, his fingers gently grazing circles over your sleeve, and you nuzzle further into his chest.

“Thank you, little mage,” he says.

”Mm,” is all you manage.

Your heavy eyelids begin to drift closed. It’s so cozy, you imagine yourself as a little cat in Ezra’s arms. You wonder if this is how it felt for him, cuddled in your lap, getting scritches under his chin, and you swear you’re purring. No, you’ve fallen asleep and started snoring.

You force yourself awake with a groan. Ezra’s sitting contentedly beside you, watching you shift and stretch.

“I’ve got to sleep,” you yawn and manage to drag yourself onto your feet.

Ezra doesn’t move, just nods and says, “Good night.”

“Are you staying up?” you ask. He must be exhausted after such a roller coaster of a day.

“I think I’ll sleep here,” he tells you.

You falter just outside of your bedroom.

“You don’t have to,” you say.

“I should,” he says.

“Oh. Okay.” You’re not sure why it hurts. “Well, then you take the bed. I'll sleep out here,” you offer.

“It’s your bed,” he says.

A pang of guilt punches you in the gut. How many times had you reminded him of that?

“It’s alright. I’ve slept here on numerous occasions,” he assures you.

You linger for a moment, trying to come up with some good reason why he shouldn’t stay on the couch. It shouldn’t be important to you. He might want his own space, some privacy after all these years, yet it feels like you’re losing something.

“Let me get some sheets—“

“I know where the linens are,” he says. Obviously. He lives here too.

Eventually you have to stop standing there like a weirdo and go to the bedroom. Door open or closed? You leave it somewhere in between.

“G’night,” you say.

You lay in bed listening to Ezra in the linen closet, then shucking his jeans and settling on the sofa. Suddenly you’re wide awake and sober as a judge, ruminating on what this means for the future. The two of you can only slip further and further away. He wants his own place to sleep, he’ll want his own place to live. It’s only natural. He’s not yours anymore. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

You roll over, pulling the covers up to your ears. Then off. You punch your pillow into shape. You strain your ears, listening for Ezra's breathing in the next room. Is he sleeping? You lean off the side of your bed, peering into the darkness and do your best to make out his form in the shadows.

Soon Ezra will have his own life, his own friends. He’s always been his own person. At least that’s what you’ve always said. How long have you been deluding yourself?

You shift again, grabbing your pillow and squeezing it in your arms to mimic his cat’s body. No luck. Nothing’s the same as Ezra. The occasions when you’ve fallen asleep without him clutched to you have been few and far between. Loneliness aches in your chest. This wasn’t something you’d thought through before you cast your spell.

Finally you throw back the sheets and march into the living room.

Ezra lays on the little couch as best he can, bare to the waist clad only in the boxers you made him buy. One of his long legs is sprawled over the side of the couch, the other tucked under his body. His eyes are wide open, staring up at the ceiling, an arm folded beneath his head.

“I can’t sleep,” you say.

“Likewise,” he says.

“This is ridiculous. Ez, you’ve always slept with me,” you complain.

“That was different,” he says, sitting up on an elbow.

“Well–” You want to tell him that nothing’s changed but it doesn’t really feel like the truth. Everything’s felt different today. You throw up your hands. “This is weird.”

He looks at you for a long time, the swell of his bottom lip turning into a deep frown.

“Just. Come on,” you say.

You leave the door open for him as you go back to your room and climb into bed. It’s his turn to hesitate, loitering in the doorway. Moonlight catches on the slope of his shoulder and the angle of his nose, glints in his unsure eyes. You sit with your arms crossed until finally he relents.

It’s certainly not the same as it was to have your cat beside you. Ezra occupies a large part of your double bed but he leaves a wide swath of mattress between you, keeping his limbs close to his body. Your instincts tell you to reach out for him but you don’t want to overstep this new boundary.

Despite the awkwardness, the delicate balance neither of you want to upset, feeling his warmth on the sheets, you’re finally able to breathe a sigh and sink into your pillow at last. His warm eyes gaze at you, giving you a long, slow blink.

“Better?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you answer.

And soon you’re both fast asleep.

––

Ezra’s cock greets him in the morning like an old friend.

He can feel your breasts warm against his back, your arm curled around his waist the same as always. Despite his efforts to keep his distance, you found each other in the night, sleeping the only way you know how. His body responded in kind.

This was what he feared, why he tried– briefly– to be good and sleep on the couch. Though to say that you’d twisted his arm was a lie. He’d given in far too quickly because he wanted you too much.

He can’t keep thinking about you like this if he wants to stay close to you, if he plans on surviving as a human. But all he wants to do is crawl down the bed, bury his face between your thighs, and make you his.

Before he does something rash, he slips away from you. You’re fast asleep thanks to the drinks and the late night. As Ezra rolls off the mattress, you let out a complaint, a little whimper that goes straight to his groin. He freezes, cock aching, and watches you roll over. You’re beautiful bathed in morning light, the sheets laying gently across your curves. If only he could run his hand over their outline.

His movements are not exactly cat-like as he creeps into the bathroom, the old wooden floors protesting with each step. As soon as the lock clicks he’s divesting himself of these ridiculous underthings. And there he is, that old menace. His length glistens with leaking precum, tip flushed red, begging to be touched. Ezra grips the base carefully but it still elicits a groan. He’s too sensitive— hundreds of years of pent up desire and a night beside you have him dizzy.

He gives himself an experimental stroke and it’s like lightning. His knees buckle and he has to hold himself up with his palm against the back of the door. With a silent curse and a steadying breath, Ezra spits into his fist and goes again. Slow, gentle. He knows he won’t last but he’s afraid his new body won’t be able to take the rapture. It’s divine torture, his mind soon swimming in pleasure.

Every dream he’s had, each time you danced under the moon or came out of the shower skin beaded with water, it all rushes past his eyes a cacophony of obscenities. Thank the stars you can’t see him like this, more animalistic than when he was one. Repulsive. Fucking his fist as he thinks of you, the only witch that’s ever cared for him. Defiling you in his mind.

He promises his guilty conscience that he’ll never do this again. He just needs it this once as his muscles strain and tighten. It’s bliss and agony all at once and he’s so close to breaking, he can hardly bear it.

“Ezra?” he hears you from the bedroom. Your voice is still rough and husky from sleep and it’s more than enough to push him over the edge.

His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut, and he chokes down the growl that’s erupted from his chest. His hips jump and his hand is coated in hot release.

“Ez?” you call out.

Ezra swallows dryly, inhales as deeply as he can manage.

“Just a moment,” he manages to croak out as his forehead comes to rest against the cool wood of the bathroom door.

“Oh,” you say with relief. “You weren’t there. I thought-— I was afraid maybe the spell went wrong.”

“Not to worry, little mage,” he says. “I’m still under your spell.”

—

The two of you spend the day in the basement, doing magic together. Ezra shows off the spells that were something of a specialty for him. Mostly, they’re party tricks. (“This one used to send the mortals frothing,” he says as he changes a glass of water into wine.)

The only blemish on an otherwise perfect day came when you offered helpfully, “You know, if we can clean out the spare room down here, you could have a place of your own.”

It stung though Ezra knew you would expect him to leave the nest eventually. Maybe you’d heard what he’d been doing behind the bathroom door and were hinting he find somewhere else to abuse himself.

It feels good to be doing magic again, even better to share with you. He’s a little rusty, working a muscle that’s been comatose for years. You don’t seem to mind. You’re impressed, just as giddy as he is, though you’re not amused when he turns a bowl of pasta noodles into worms.

“If you ever do that to me, I’ll turn you back,” you swear.

You’re particularly fascinated with a piece of magic Ezra shows you where he ignites a flame in his hand.

“Show me again,” you say.

He strikes his thumb against his fingertips as though they were flint on steel and the fire sparks. You watch with a furrowed brow, rehearsing the motion with your own hand.

“You can do it with a candle. It’s quite the same,” he explains. The flame glows orange, hovering in his palm until he snuffs it in his fist.

You hold your hand forward and mimic his motion to no avail.

“It’s not a snap,” he says in reply to your frustrated groan. “Observe.” He demonstrates again, slower this time.

“That’s what I did,” you complain.

After a few more attempts you shake your head.

“I can’t do it.”

“You turned a cat into a man. This is well within your abilities,” he assures you.

You thrust your hand towards him. “Show me.”

“Very well,” he says.

It’s not like your touch is new to him and still he swoons as he cups your hand in his. Maybe it’s because yours is so much smaller, almost delicate. It’s the intimacy of this moment, the magic, that has his heart hammering. Your powers vibrate beneath your skin, heating you from within.

You don’t have to stand so close but you slot yourself against him, your shoulders against his chest.

“Relax,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. He can’t help himself, resting his other hand on your hip.

You take a deep breath and he marvels at how easily you unwind in his arms. If you turn towards him, your lips will brush.

”Focus,” he says as if his own head isn’t swimming.

You nod and Ezra guides your thumb across your fingers.

The fire doesn’t just spark to life in your hand but it ignites as if it were fed by kerosene, flaring wildly. It burns so hot he can feel it radiating through your fingers. You let out a delighted squeal, your smile brighter than the flame itself.

“Holy shit!” You turn to share your joy with Ezra, so close your noses touch as you move. You giggle.

He can’t help but grin himself. You are truly amazing.

It all shatters in an instant. You hear the jingle of the shop door above and the fire in your fist fizzles to ash. You freeze except for your eyes that grow wide with horror. Footsteps cross overhead, the floorboards creaking. The bookstore is closed just as it is every Halloween week. There are no customers coming in. There’s only one person that could be here.

Ezra hears Margot call out your name and his stomach drops.

”Are you down there?” she says. She’s just at the top of the stairs where you left the door propped open.

”Uh huh,” you answer. You still haven’t moved an inch, just stand there dumbly.

You’d talked briefly about how the two of you would break the news to Aunt Margot but you hadn’t come to a decision. You still had time to figure it out and you were both so giddy that you couldn’t imagine a world where she was anything but delighted to see what he’d become. Suddenly it’s an incredible risk and neither of you are prepared.

“”I just kept thinking about you here all alone. I left as soon as I could,” she says. “Everybody was asking about–“ her eyes finally land on Ezra and she stiffens ”–you.”

“Aunt Margot–” you try.

Percy, who’s just peeked his head out of her breast pocket, lets out a squeal.

“What have you done?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

He’s not sure how she knows– Margot is perceptive in ways neither you or Ezra could anticipate– but she doesn’t need to be told.

She stares at the man before her and he’s brought back to the look on Cee’s face years upon years ago when he stood over Damon’s limp body.

It’s a punch in his gut delivered by himself long ago, it all slips away. The party is over, the jig is up. The past two days evaporate like one of his dreams. Those sweet mornings waking up beside you, the swell of your touch, the thought of a future. He’d really believed it could go on like that forever.

You look as terrified as your aunt but you swallow it down and say, “I turned him back.”

“That’s not possible,” Margot says.

“I’m afraid it is,” Ezra says. His words don’t hold any of their usual cool confidence.

“Is this why you stayed home?”

“No—“ you try.

“You lied to me,” Margot says. “And you had no right to do this.”

“We had no intention of doing this before you departed,” Ezra begins.

“The laws have changed,” you snap. Ezra wraps his hand around yours, not sure if he’s protecting you or grounding you before you lose your cool.

“Well, they’re still laws. And shame on you, Ezra, for letting her do that,” Margot snipes.

“I talked him into it,” you say.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it took a lot of convincing,” she replies with an eye roll. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s unjust what they did to him,” you argue.

“He was convicted of killing another witch. I’m sorry, Ezra, but that is no petty crime.”

“That other witch was a child abuser!” you snap.

Ezra clenches his jaw. You’re the only other person he’s told about Cee and now seems like an inopportune moment to start pouring out his guts. Margo’s sharp eyes look to him for confirmation, her frown softening with surprise.

”I make no excuse for my transgressions,” he says.

“You should turn yourself in to the elders before they find out on their own,” Margot says.

”No,” you say.

”She’s right,” Ezra says, his eyes cast to the floor.

“No,” you say once more. ”Ezra served his time. And he should never have been such an inhumane punishment.”

Margot hears none of it, shaking her head with her eyes screwed shut. “The elders will take your powers for this. Or worse. They’ll make you both into cats. And you did this all under my roof. Did you think this through at all?”

Reality sinks in the pit of Ezra’s stomach. He’s put you in danger but Margot too. She’s always been good to him, one of the few people he enjoys and he’s gotten her mixed up in a crime.

”You weren’t even here,” you say, your voice wavering. Clearly the guilt is creeping through your veins as well.

”Go upstairs, dear. I need to speak to Ezra alone,“ she demands.

”No,” you say with indignation.

“It’s alright,” Ezra tells you.

You look between the two of them. Margot stares at him as if you’ve already left the room and you have no choice but to obey.

Margot says nothing, shooting daggers at Ezra for an excruciating amount of time. At last, she puts her hand to her brow in exasperation and does her best to collect her emotions.

”Let me get a look at you,” Margot says when she stands tall again.

Ezra steps forward, presenting himself with a slight bow as he was accustomed to do. He has many years on her but he currently feels like a boy caught by the schoolmarm, about to get his knuckles rapped.

She takes his hand, turns it over in her own, inspecting the magic you’ve done. Margot lets out an indignant scoff.

“How did she do it?” Margot asks, her voice half suspicion, half wonder.

“A potion. A spell. It was by her own hand,” he explains. “She foresaw it in a dream.”

Margot fingertips brush her lips, the whirl of thoughts racing through her mind plain on her face.

“You know what kind of witch has the powers to cast a spell like that?” he asks.

Her answer is a nod and a sigh, her shoulders straightening. Still lost in thought, Ezra fills the silence with his plea.

“Margot, I have served your family for two centuries but I have never cared for another witch as deeply as I do your niece,” he admits. “I’m well aware that what we’ve done is bold and rash. Foolish, even. But I promise you that I will not let any harm come to her so long as I’m living.”

His heart beats so hard, he’s afraid it might leap from his chest.

Margot looks into his eyes and there’s a momentary prickle along his scalp. Her lips quirk and her expression softens and Ezra feels too vulnerable. He’s let her see too much of the truth. If he could, he’d climb out of his own skin. The moment passes as Margot masks her sympathy, raising her chin and crossing her arms in a way that reminds him of you.

“Fine. This isn’t an endorsement,” she says. “But you can tell her I’m not going to rat you out.”

“Thank you,” he says. He knows that he’s been given yet another gift he doesn’t deserve. Hopefully Margot can sense his gratitude as she did his conviction. He heads after you, towards the back door of the shop but is stopped by the sound of his name. Turning, he sees Margot with her keen eye on him.

“Be careful,” she warns.

He’s not sure what she’s referring to but he knows she’s right.

🐈‍⬛

Part 5

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#ezra prospect #ezra #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #prospect #prospect fic #witchy

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected Trip

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.

Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.

You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.

Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.

"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."

As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."

You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."

As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.

"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.

Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.

Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.

The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.

"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.

"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.

Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.

Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.

Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.

You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.

5 Years Ago

You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.

Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.

It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.

Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"

"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.

"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.

"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.

As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."

You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.

With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."

He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.

"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.

You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.

After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.

"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.

You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.

Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."

"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.

Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.

Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"

Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"

Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.

Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.

There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.

Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.

The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.

"KYAAA!"

Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.

"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.

Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.

You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.

"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.

With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.

Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.

The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.

You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.

"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.

Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."

"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.

You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."

Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated

Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"

"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."

As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.

"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.

He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."

And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.

🚗

After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.

Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.

As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."

The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."

You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."

The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."

You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."

The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."

With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.

"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.

Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.

As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.

🚗

One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.

Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.

"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."

Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."

"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."

Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.

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i-have-stolen-endless-names · 2 months ago

Text

The Devil In Love - Chapter 6 "Not A Good Man"

Possible Trigger Warnings

>>Alucard is a Warning on his own.<<

Overall Soft-ish Yandere Themes

Mentions of: Alucards bloodlust and his joy inkilling ghouls and lesser vampires, Alucard comes back from a mission which is vaguely described, Reader is crying and Alucard is a bit sadistic about it - but he does comfort you, he just revels in the attention, very mild sexual vibes

Minors please do not interact! Reader is ofc 18+

Content

Reader is working at the Hellsing manor as a housekeeper

Story is set before the happenings of Hellsing - Still Spoilers ahead

Reader is gender neutral, no pronouns are used but "you"

Age, ethnicity, height, weight and any other physical attributes are never mentioned. You are free and encouraged to imagine yourself or an OC in this scenario.

Summary

Alucard comes back late from a mission, Reader had a nightmare about losing him and becomes a bit clingy as consequence. The vampire does not mind at all. Comfort and use of petnames included.

Index

Previous Chapter: Chapter 5 "A Moment In Time" Next Chapter: Chapter 7 "Forget Me Nots"

It had been a long and delectable mission. He had craved the bloodshed. The brutality in which he could rip his enemies apart. Taunting them only delighted him more. Screams repeated in his mind over and over again. A shame that ghouls were not as delectable as live prey. There had been SO many-

AllI his thoughts came to a halt when he saw you. A familiart figure standing inthe garden with their head down. It almost looked as if you were crying.

He could hear little snifles even when he was still far away. Distance meant so little to him, especially when he appeared next to you suddenly.

"Have you been waiting for me, little lamb?" It had been an attempt of mockery, his arrogance full on display.

However, it shocked him just a little when you threw yourself at him. Full force. "Alucard!" He almost stumbled back. Almost.

Instead he wrapped his arms around you and kept you close to his chest. "What prompted this curious response, little one?" You were crying. Against his chest. The sadist inside of him was cackling with glee. You? In need of comfort? In his arms?

It made him almost tremble with a desire that had long crossed the borders of sanity. "I dreamt that you would not return…"

Your little voice made his heart stir. And quite frankiy his loins too. It was so hard not to chuckle, almost too hard. He bent over you like a sunflower finding the light down instead of up.

His lips brushed against the top of your head while he whispered to you. "Has no one ever told you that you should not shed tears for the devil, love?" It filled him with such joy to see you worry for him He was not a good man. Not at all.

With a pleased hum he tilted your chin up so you would look at him with your glassy eyes. Little pearls of water slid down your cheeks. You were so beautiful when you were sobbing in his arms.

"Worry not, for I am eternally bound to this world. The dirt will not have me.'" Yet another sensation of surprise shot through him when you tightened your grip on him. Defiantly you pressed your face back into his chest.

He was cold. And he smelled like decaying leaves on a rainy day.

"What if something happens? What if the dirt clings to you one day?" How precious you were. Ilt made his mouth water as he fondly remembered the taste of your blood.

He wondered if he could encourage you to worry more about him. To his own surprise, he rather enjoyed being doted upon. Your attention felt almost as good as impaling someone.

"I rest in a coffin, my dear. I am death. Nothing will cling to me unless I allow it." He cradled the back of your head. Like a lover would. Adoringly and so full of unspoken emotions. Fingertips pressed into your scalp as he pulled you even closer.

This was… easier than he had expected. You grew so attached to him so swiftly. Falling so willingty into his arms was a treat.

"Then never allow it." You mumbled against him.

Now he cackled, his whole body shook with it. "How greedy… would you like me to stay the night?" A bold offer but he was nothing but brash. It took you a moment to consider but when you gave the tiniest of nods his eyes darkened with desire.

"..Yes. But you keep your paws to yourself, you hear me?" He tilted his body, so that you were still pressed against his form but he could walk with you.

"How charitable of you to invite the devil into your bed.." Alucard cooed while his hand slid down to rest on your waist.

As the first raindrops started to fall you both retreated into the manor. You might not know it just yet but you just signed your fate. The lamb would cuddle up eagerly against the wolf for the night.

#alucard x reader #fanfiction #hellsing #fanfic #hellsing alucard x reader #hellsing fanfiction #soft yandere #vampire x human #vampire x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort

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valleymyristica · 3 months ago

Text

People that make me happy ᵔᵜᵔ

Also, happy 3 month anniversary of What it takes!

There are so many people around And I find myself wanting to share my glee

So I want to give a thank you to all who make me happy And I also want to wish whoever is reading this a lovely day For I'm sure there is always someone who finds glee in your existence

For me, these are the lovely ones that gives me a smile whenever I see them about. Just knowing they are there is enough ᵔᵜᵔ

@waitineedaname

For being a wonderful person One I'm always happy to see doing well We may not talk as much, because I'm so slow But you still make me happy, wherever you go

So I want to wish you the best in this new year! [And thank you for being the beta reader for the HLVRAI fic I've yet to post] [If I ever will, really should though...] [Man, it's so old now]⠀

@cubbiverse

Thank you for being the reason I started What it takes! Without you, it wouldn't exist

Talking to you is always a blast You're always so fun! Your ideas are such a driving force for me

Really bringing me glee whenever I see you You're lovely, you're great I hope the year to come will treat you well! I wish you a happy new year!

Also! Can't forget! Your art is always so nice to see It's always so bubbly, bouncy, pretty and soft! Such lovely fun you bring With every single thing!

Oh, I really do like all the things that you do! You make me so happy too!!!

@shrimpyjackal

Art so pretty, always so kind So very sweet, with a lovely mind

Your colours, they pop! So pretty to the eye Like the setting sun An array of colours in the sky

Like a cold dessert After a desert walk Your art really does have a special spark! Like fireworks that boom, with colours and light! I hope that the year to come, will be lovely and bright!

I wish, it will be lovely and bright! And who knows, maybe wishes do come true?

@astrolotte

Things come Things go

But you are one I'm happy to know!

You're always so positive, so very sweet Just so lovely and unique!

It delights me when you read But I wish you well all the same

For I hope this year brings you joy As we play along with it's game Even as rules change

For change can be good Though, wouldn't want it to leave you on the run

And some things are sweet Though, being trapped is no fun

And have to also tell that your art is like a present on Christmas day Truly something to look forward to in every way!

@arandom-dog [AO3]

My beta reader My wonderful beta reader

AHHHHHHH!!! YOU'RE GREAT!

I'm so happy I have you! You're so helpful and kind! I always like to talk and hear what's on your mind!

AHHHHHH!!!! I still can't stop looking that the comic you made! Along with all the other lovely things you've made Gosh, Bunny is so CUTE! AHHHH!!! It's so pretty! So cool!

I'm so happy you made it And I'm so glad you had fun when you did!

Gosh, What it takes really has taken hold of my life

@unconsciousnonhuman

Thank you for creating the lovely [angst server]! It would be a delight if there was more time to spend

For hearing what's on your mind Is always a highlight before reaching the days end!

So morbid and fun! Oh! You are such a lovely one!

I'm happy you exist! So happy you are here! Really bringing joy by simply being you Do hope I can give you joy too!

Honestly, I think my new years resolution will be to read all of Para. Peri and leave my comment at every chapter.

I will get it done. I hope

@poggieking03

My delightful little fan I'm so happy I have you Really bringing me glee, and questions too!

It's always so fun to see your reactions To hear what you think heh Especially when the characters are on their brink!

I do hope that life is treating you well and that you are feeling swell!

For deserve kindness for all the things you've given me You make me so happy and fill me with glee!

@nightjasmine10

I really do delight in all you send my way Every comment, whatever it may, really does bring a smile to my day!

Honestly, it's so nice that you like talking to me, and it's nice talking to you in turn. You're always so sweet and willing to engage!

You seem so passionate about writing It's so cool! It's always nice to see you around!

Thank you for being as lovely as you are!

@freesso

Pretty, soft and expressive art So very cute So very sweet So very lovely and unique

A lovely person So nice and kind With art that always bring a smile to mind

Hope your days are joyous and sweet For you’re a lovely person One I'm happy I got to meet!

@midnightdemonz

Yay! Our fairy meat fanatic and one with a powerful Peri AU!

You're such a fun one and always a delight to talk too

Really should work more on fairy meat, we got so much to work with, still... what it takes is also important. Though, sparing some time for some meat shouldn't hurt, right?

As for the wonder you are? You're bright and fun, like a lucky star! Always so fun to talk to you

Hope your days are as great as you are! For you are indeed great!

@nova-in-space

Honestly, I may not be a part of it But seeing all the Peri's interacting is so fun!

From what I've read of Ghost Town so far It's very interesting! Desolate, dreary, eery What could have caused such disarray? Oh, is there anyone that would dare to say?

Also, I still remember the drawing you made based on What it takes I will forever cherish such lovely things Every spec of gold is still gold And it really does delight me that you took the mind and time to do it

It really made me happy, and remembering it really does bring a smile

Thank you so much!

You're a fun delightful person And I do delight in the ideas you present in your work

Like miasma filling their lungs Poisoning their bodies Breaking their minds And all which connects

It's interesting It's fun

@vhs-consumer

It's weird, I don't talk to you But you do seem like a person I'd like You seem like a really fun and cool person

hehehe You even know about 'fairy meat' Which is fun ᵔᵜᵔ⠀⠀

So, I do hope that the year to come will be a fun one With lovely food and fun people!

Also, have to compliment your art Because it's really nice It's like ice preserving the beauty of the world It's like a an array of needles you can softly pet It's like a shiver of cold as you sit so warm with a cup of hot chocolate

It's sharp and nice Both cool and warm And really something one likes to look upon

@elsa-fogen

Thank you for also being a lovely morbid delight!

It's fun talking to you from time to time and I do hope that this year will be a lovely one for you!

I do delight in all the AUs you do have And it's so fun to see your version of Icy She's so cool! hehehe Cool and cold Pun for fun

I like a sweet one who sees no wrong in the horrors It's simply how things are How they should be

Why would you want to leave? We're just getting to the fun part!

Also have to tell, I do like your art as well! It's so fun, the way you create, It's as if all fit together as pieces to a puzzle Every little line has a place to be

Everyone seems so full of life It's just connected so nicely And you're really funny too Your jokes are great!

@illustrationismyhaven ( @doodle17 )

You're a fun one, and happy late birthday!

I think you're the reason I decided to play Psychonauts Which is something I am so very happy and thankful for, it and it's sequel are such great games! I'm so happy I got to experience them, thank you!

In addition, I really like your lobotomy family au It's such a cute little idea!

Well, you seem to have many fun ideas So I guess that's kinda a given

Apart from such, you're a delight too see Your art is always so striking and lovely! So fluid, like a stream of water in winter Like green leafs in the summer rain So pretty, colourful and bright

You really do give off a lovely light!

@todaytomorrowgiraff

I doubt you know of my existence, but I do want to tell I appreciate you!

It delights me to see a little HLVRAI on my dash Gives it all a little extra pizzazz!

I remember finding you thanks to your wonderful fic, Becoming Human. It's been a moment since I've read it last, but I do recall delighting in it so. In a way, I guess it's inspiration, it's such a lovely one and you seem like such a wonderful person!

@bunnieswithknives

Gosh do I like the things that you do So of course you make me happy too!

Your art is so modular Like pipes connected so cleanly together Like ball-jointed dolls that you simply move

It's so very cool! And it all creates such a funky grove!

In addition, your ideas, the thoughts in your mind How you play with ideas You're funny and smart

What you make is truly a work of art!

That is to say, I like what you create! Always so fun to see what you'll present next!

Also, sorry for the time that I messed with your head Hope you're doing better, and you're happy instead!⠀

@kisskisstine

Like a story book with tales to be told Your art is so lovely to behold

A blooming star, so pretty and bright Yet so lonely when she shines her light

And he who thought himself bright and strong Is bound to have a stark realization when he finds, he is wrong

Your art is soft and kind Very fitting for you

For you seem like a lovely person too! Wishing you the best in all that you do!

Bright soft skies Sun so high Hope the smiles that you give Are given in turn For you deserve bright joys! Is one thing I've learned

Giving kindness to the kind Giving joy to the joyous Giving, sharing and wishing the best

So many sweet things You deserve them too!

@wreckrinho

You art is like cookies So scrumptious and good!

Like rivers Like streams Like something forgotten in dreams

So cool and fun So very you

And it makes me happy to see When you enjoy what you do!

Hope you're well And life is treating you with kindness

Horror may come to those in the stories one tell But that doesn't mean it should come to you as well

You're a fun delight Sweet little starlight Deserving fun

Enjoy the things you do I enjoy them too

Share what you like That's when you shine the most bright!

@artificial-angels

Your art, so pretty Like clouds on a soft summer day Like flowers that bloom Like sweet cotton candy dreams

Pastel paradise parade So soft and sweet It really is a delightful treat

@nilsford-prattle

Long forgotten In sand we lay But still we always hope that you are doing okay

Bright and fun Sweet and kind Hope you have peace of mind

Hope there is joy in the things that you do And that you always have a reason to be happy too

@purplecatghostposts

Hope there is joy to your days Your interests are ones we enjoy to see

Your writing a lovely delight Your shimmer a happy joy

So many things anew Yet though old they may seem For you bring it to life Like it's been awoken from a dream

Thank you for being you And doing what you do

Thank you all so much for bringing joy to my day! I hope I'm able to bring some joy to yours as well!

And maybe I'm alone in being me But I do think it nice to tell about those that are kind

In a world so cruel I want to prove there can be kindness as well

I find it pretty funny that it took so long to post this In part because I kept remembering so many fun people⠀

Huh... maybe my friend is right? I am pretty much always happy⠀

Maybe you all have something to do with that?

#Started this around new years‚ thinking #“Yeah‚ can totally get this done for the first!”#I could not.#WHY ARE YOU ALL SO AMAZING!!#It all would have been so much easier if you weren’t #But I guess it's a lovely thing that you are #Each and every one #Another star to my pretty sky #I really do like the night #(Do hope I didn't forget anyone)#(You know‚ there are just so many good people out there)#(Or maybe I'm just lucky?)

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finniestoncrane · 7 months ago

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BTAA!Scarecrow x GN!Reader, word count: 2k commission: jonathan experiences the joys of getting to be the victim for a change, and you are more than happy to oblige if it means getting to test out your theory that nothing can actually scare him 🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: roleplay, bondage, sensation play, impact play

It was a willing ‘kidnapping’. For all that Jonathan had studied film and screen, scrutinised and admired the various acting techniques of the horror star he loved so dearly, his acting skills were below par. But it hadn’t stopped him from insisting that there had to be a theme, a plot, to your change in the scheduled programming.

If he was going to relinquish his position as the father of fear, it was still going to be under his terms.

“You know, I always found myself tutting at those scream queens. Who falls over that often? Let alone when you’re being chased by a nightmare beyond your imagination…”

Jonathan’s eyes flitted to you quickly. Even now, there was still a predatory glare in them. That natural inclination towards control and dominance still lingering a little, despite the situation he, very willingly, found himself in.

“... Now I understand. They wanted to be caught. To be the victim. It’s quite delicious, actually.”

His gaze fell to his wrists, bound to the chair he sat on, the soft, specialty rope equally tight around his ankles. He looked the perfect victim. Dishevelled, sweating, shirt on but unbuttoned exposing his soft stomach and chest, lightly peppered with greying hairs. Only his underwear covered the bottom half, giving you a glimpse of the obvious bulge at the front where his semi-erect cock stole the stage, twitching each time you came closer to him, fear and excitement ruling his reactions.

“Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe it gets boring being the big, bad, villain. And maybe I needed a little subversion of expectations. Either way, this is a very interesting twist.”

The quieter you were, the more he spoke, filling in the silence with his rambling, a nervous trait, or perhaps just one that signified how impatient he was, how badly he wanted the real fun to begin.

“I’m so used to every convention, every trope. But this? This is something new. This is how I felt when Pamela Voorhees was revealed to us. When we saw Norman in his mother’s dress and that terrible wig. When Kramer stood up from that bloody puddle in the middle of the bathroom floor. This is a genre defining moment.”

You lifted the satin scarf from the table where you had laid out your instruments slowly and carefully, allowing Jonathan a glimpse at what was to come, setting the scene, allowing the tension to build. His heartbeat was almost audible from where you stood in front of him, the steady thuds louder as you leaned in to him, tying the scarf around his head and adjusting it over his eyes until his vision was completely blacked out.

“Ah, heightened senses? Or intentionally taking away an important one that allows for security in unfamiliar environments? Either way, I’ve got goosebumps!”

He was giddy, an almost childlike glee lilting in his words as he wiggled excitedly in the chair. Of course, the aim of the session was to please him, but you wanted to scare him too, and that still seemed like an impossible feat.

Despite that, however, he still seemed enthusiastic about his lower position on the food chain. The moment his vision was rendered useless, his skin began to prickle with a warmth that started deep in his core, the slight twitch of his cock as he listened carefully for your movements was a dead giveaway of his obvious excitement.

“You know, this is often why horror movies are so dark, at least modern examples. Darkness is terrifying, what’s hidden there is left to our imagination. It’s a cheap and easy way to conjure terror without doing much.”

With your fingers hovering over them, dancing with delight, you tried to decide which of your tools to use first, eventually settling on the pinwheel. Something sour to begin, you could always soothe him afterwards if need be.

“Not that I think you’re looking for the easy way out, it’s more of an observation, a chance to educate you on- ooooh!”

Jonathan’s lecture was cut short, mostly of his own accord, as he felt the sharp points of the pinwheel begin to cross over his bare thighs in light tracks. You were careful to keep the pressure light as you pressed it towards the inner, softer areas, and back out again.

“Actually, you could be a little rougher with the- ah, ah, ah…”

“Jonathan.”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Be quiet. I’m not asking you. I am telling you. Keep your mouth closed from here on out…”

You lifted your free hand to his cheek, a smile curling up on the corner of your mouth as he flinched at first then settled into the caress.

“... or you’ll really suffer, ok?”

“Y-...”

He silenced himself, immediately obeying your instructions, and nodded his head, hair falling loose from the tidy parting and falling in front of the silk scarf.

Pleased with his ability to take an order, you increased the pressure of the pinwheel as a treat, finding yourself far more excited than you imagined by the small dots it left in Jonathan’s skin. He hissed a little, but never uttered any of the safe words you had agreed on, and each time you ramped up the pain, testing his limit, reaching his threshold, his smile only grew wider in response.

When you finally stopped, deciding to move on to the next implement of torture, as Jonathan had called them, you could feel him arching his back in an attempt to keep you near him, his wrists straining against the ropes until he sat back down in the seat and made an effort to be patient.

As far as his preferences went, it was becoming clear that Jonathan wasn’t a soft person, and his lack of pain threshold had begun to intrigue you. So the next item you picked up was the riding crop. You’d felt the pleasure of it before on your own flesh, Jonathan’s fist clenched tight around the end as he brought it down against your rear. He’d smiled as you yelped, a cruel satisfaction in coaxing any kind of animalistic sound from you. You wondered if he’d like to know what sounds he might make.

With the end of the crop hovering just over his bare thigh, you swatted down quickly, not touching his skin, but letting the woosh of the cool air give him a hint at what was to come. And, as predicted, as hoped, Jonathan’s body twitched and he let out a quiet exclamation.

“Oh… are you tricking your audience into believing that this is a thriller? Offering up suspense before the true horror follows? Is that the twist?”

Despite the smug tone he was trying to convey in his words, you could hear his voice trembling ever so slightly. There was worry behind it. Excited worry, but worry all the same. You wondered how soon you might be able to get terror out of him, if at all.

It was all well and good keeping up the slow build. Easing him into what was to come for him. That was what he wanted, after all. You’d seen his eyes widen when the third act of a film opened up, the tense but manageable pace of the first hour giving way to a thundering and panic-inducing climax. That’s what he wanted for his body. To be ravaged, hunted, terrorised. You could see it now in the way his fingers scratched at the arms of the chair, how his stomach tensed as he let his imagination run wild. Anticipation built, and it would hopefully give way to the delicious adrenaline rush of fear. You wanted to give him that, a good scare.

With a quick movement, snapping through the air, you brought the crop back down again, pulling it back with a creeping grin as you watched the red welts form almost immediately on his legs, almost magical in the way they were created from nothing but the impact. Knowing it would smart, you sat down on his lap, watching him wince as you put pressure on his newly bruised flesh.

Closing in on him, listening to his breath hitch and quicken as you dove into his neck. With your tongue pressed out, you let it drag up the front of his throat, watching the veins and tendons pop as he tensed against the surprisingly gentle touch. It was what he needed, but not what he wanted. The contrast was sweet, but only for a moment. And then you were both back to needing the blood lust.

Your teeth sank into him, sharp and tight, a force he hadn’t expected, and his wince, the sharp mewl that followed it, only made you bite down harder. And as that surprise fell away, you offered him another, raising your hand and placing your fingertips to his throat, increasing the pressure little by little, watching his gasps become shallower, more strained. The more he choked, the more he struggled, the harder he seemed to get.

Below the blindfold his eyes were widening, pupils dark and sparkling with excitement. His mouth hung open in abject terror as what was left of the air in his lungs finally expired, and his life flashed before his eyes as he tried to refill them. You eased up, watching him take a deep, panicked breath, enough for him to be able to answer you, then you closed your fingers again, speaking quietly, so soft in comparison to how you were treating him.

“Tell me you want me to hurt you, Jonathan.”

His choked response was filled with enthusiasm.

“I do, I really do.”

You leaned in further, lips touching, teasing, the shell of his ear.

“Are you scared?”

There was a pause, long enough that you realised he was purposefully avoiding the question. You tensed your fingers against his throat once more, watching his fingers scratch against the chair. He might not actually be all that scared, but he knew what you wanted to hear. And with a conniving little smile at the corner of his mouth, he answered.

“Oh, I’m just absolutely terrified.”

It was dripping in sarcasm, the kind of disingenuous statement you’d heard him make to his victims when they pleaded for mercy and he was stringing them along. Infuriating, almost. Of course, you’d set out with the main goal of pleasing him, and you’d succeeded. But you both knew that what you really wanted, almost equally desiring it, was to have his heart racing, chest pounding, as he let fear find him.

Beneath you, you could feel his cock throbbing, desperate for a release, the tension ramping up. Incomplete. No grand finale. No closing scene, not even a cliffhanger.

The monster was always scarier when left to your own imagination. When nothing was given away.

Without a word, you stood up and away from him, listening to his whimpers as he gathered his breath. He waited, breath hitching, for the next act. But it wasn’t coming. Even as he spoke your name, a quiver on the third or fourth time he asked for you, you refused to let him know where you were. You’d kept your footsteps imperceptible as you made your way to the corner by the door, content to find a good spot to watch him lose his mind in sensory deprivation.

There he was, tied in place, blind to the room and so blind to where you were hiding from him. He called your name once more. Never the safe word, he wasn’t about to admit defeat. But you could hear the desperation in his words.

You were going to let him worry. He knew that, deep down, even despite his pleading.

It wasn’t fair, to resort to jumpscares, to torment him. But it was the only thing that seemed to work. Deny him the pleasure, deny him the happy ending he wanted.

And it was working. He could feel himself edging closer to the end, core tightening as he wondered when you would jump out at him from the darkness, like the monster he hoped you were.

#finnie writes #batman #scarecrow #jonathan crane #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #rogues gallery #batman rogues #btaa scarecrow #scarecrow x you #fanfic #x reader

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totothewolff · 4 months ago

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Season of Love (10/?) [New chapter]

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

The Sebaffäre Arc Chapter 10: Finding Our Grip.

Japan

The sun slips through the cherry blossom trees, their soft pink petals floating gently in the spring air over the streets of Shibuya as you, Sebastian, Mick, and Millie walk, soaking in the vibrant energy surrounding you.

Laughter spreads as you explore the bustling district known for its trendy stores, eclectic street style, and, of course, the undeniable Kawaii culture for which Millie lives.

“I saw on Instagram a new pop-up cafe with capybara-themed everything! We have to go!” Millie exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Sebastian chuckles while pulling her a little closer, wrapping a relaxed arm around her neck, their height difference being noticeable. “If it has cute animals and desserts, just take me there,” he jokes.

Mick, is already scouting for the ultimate kawaii stuff for Millie. “Look! They have those giant plush toys over there!” He points toward a shop filled with oversized snack plushies.

Your heart fills with joy as this hangout feels more like a family trip.

“Millie, this one is so you!” you point out, holding up a pink dress adorned with frills and one little cat paw. Millie squeals in delight as she slips it on, twirling in front of the mirror, you are now inside an all-pink extremely chic fashion store.

After some bags of apparel are added to your purchases, you head toward the Capybara café.

As soon as you step inside, you are greeted by the most adorably fluffy residents lounging around.

"I'M GOING TO EXPLODE" Millie squeals out.

After some iced Taros, fruit cakes, and playful interaction with the capybaras, you notice something shiny in the corner, a photo booth. “Oh, we have to try it!” you ask the group, eyes sparkling with glee.

Inside, you each squeeze tightly together, giggles erupting as you try to fit in. “Okay, everyone! Let’s do a silly one!” Mick suggests, posing with a goofy expression. You all follow suit, Sebastian squishes his cheeks together, Millie tosses her head back, and you cross your eyes, with the camera flashing in a series of snaps. When Millie suggests doing one series more but "with free poses" Seb doesn't let go of the opportunity to place one kiss on your cheek.

As the pictures print out, you can't help but think about how wonderful it would be to have these moments with a family of your own.

“Check this out!” Sebastian says, pulling the first picture from the stack. The photo reflects the perfect blend of laughter, silliness, and an undeniable bond, the four of you together.

“Let’s each take one copy and place them on our dressing room's mirror” Mick suggests and everyone agrees.

You three had the most fun time that day, so much it passed by at an alarming speed, and soon Seb offered to take you back, leaving you at the door of your hotel room, with just one shy and sweet goodbye kiss on the palm of your hand.

And that's all, he tries for.

He doesn't want to rush things, he feels luck is on its side this weekend.

He is just waiting for that special momment.

It's race day and Matthew and you navigate to your team's place on the grid - by the front - among the big bustling, and packed Suzuka track, it's kinda hard to walk around, this time they overdid the number of people allowed in there.

You two take your time to reach the place where the cars sit still but are soon ready to roar to life as the orchestra prepares for the national anthem, adding an air of ceremonial anticipation.

Just as Matthew turns a corner, you stumble into Toto with Susie, also hand in hand. The moment freezes as you lock eyes, both of you caught off guard.

"Ah, Toto! Nice to see you! Ready to eat our dust once more?" Matt opens the conversation, stopping in front of them.

You bite your lip, half-wincing. Matthew playfully jabs to push Toto’s buttons. The Austrian raises an eyebrow, letting out a short laugh, though you can tell the jab stings, he remains grinning, his charm on full display as he answers, "Well if it isn’t the power couple of the F1! Dust? I’m here for the victory champagne, my friend."

Susie appears momentarily oblivious to the smoldering tension. She smiles wide, all enthusiasm as she greets you. "It’s a perfect clear night for a race, air is good, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see how it all unfolds!"

You can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as you watch her holding him, effortlessly radiant, completely unaware of the awkward undercurrents swirling around you all.

Her joy in the moment only amplifies the tension, and you battle with the frustrating realization that you wish you could enjoy it as innocently.

Forcing a smile, you answer her. "Yes! Perfect!"

This is the closest Toto and you have been for a while. Your heart races, and you feel a blend of excitement and guilt as memories of your passionate encounters fill you back.

You can feel the weight of his eyes on you.

Matthew interrupts your stares. "Good for you, Toto, victory champagne tastes extra sweet when it's been a while without you tasting it" his smile is big and bright, and Matt snaps back all innocent looking, his hand fondling your hip tenderly but visibly. "Isn’t that right, sweetheart?" he places a soft and sensual kiss on your lips.

Toto shifts and clears his throat, visibly tense, and with that, Susie’s curiosity peaks. She shifts her gaze between the two of you, eyebrows furrowing slightly before forcing herself to smile brightly again and with genuine confusion, she asks, "Are you boys always this competitive?"

You gulp, unsure whether to laugh out of nervousness or shrink. Matthew chuckles, clearly enjoying his mind games, while Toto plays it off with a casual shrug.

"Oh, it’s just a bit of friendly rivalry! Susie, it's not like something else was going on" Matt emphasizes the last words. Much to both your dislike.

Fuck, he knows. HOW?!

Is he surveilling you? Oh, you gotta have a word, well, no, let's better not.

Then orchestra starts to play and you all glance at the stage, feeling the tension ebb with the music. The national anthem begins, and with it, your interaction reaches an end.

Neither Williams nor Mercedes gets to sip that champagne. Seb finally makes it to the highest of the podium, and you cheer your lungs out for him along with George and Millie standing next to him.

The miracle happened, lucky bastard indeed!

In the middle of that celebration, Seb turns mischievously your way, shaking that bottle most menacingly, before you can even react you are soaked, and everyone around you runs away as the rivers of champagne fall in.

Seb jumps down the podium stage and reaches you, among pats, hands, and shoulder shakes, loud cheers following him along.

He screams into your ear, and yet you can barely hear him, the crowd and music so loud. "Maybe this sounds absurd, and perhaps is the worst moment, but I can't deny what I feel for you. If you give me a chance, could I take you out on a date?"

"WHAT!?" This takes you by surprise.

Seb looks at your reaction a bit embarrassed now, the red of his uniform blending up with his face, and expecting a massive rejection on his way.

"So you don't mind that I'm married?! You don't care about my past and all that's going on around me!? Are you serious?!" you look utterly shocked.

"No, I don't! I like you the way you are," he says, earnestly.

FUCK.

"But what about the press!? If they found out... WAIT, and your reputation!? Seeing us together could be damaging for your career..."

"Oh no problem about that, we won't hide"

"WHAT?!" your face is a poem.

"I'm never hiding... ever again. I'm going to love you freely and fuck the world" he smiles brightly, drops coming down his hair and big eyelashes.

"But... If you regret it?! And by then the damage is done, you need to think..."

"I don't care, honestly, but do you?" he captures your hands, which were going all over, like an Italian man illustrating something but on steroids, and caresses them.

"Well... I'm done with the hiding too"

"So we could... You know... try it?" his eyes spark, and he looks at you as the most precious being walking on earth.

He is crazy, this is crazy, you are crazy, but for some reason, you nod in agreement.

Mathew did not make that long travel to Japan just to join you at the GP, he wanted to give you the long-awaited news that finally you got Lenkov to go on trial in between happy tears, both hugging real tight.

Seb becomes your companion for this entire arduous and bitter process.

He even helps you practice your testimony acting as if he were the lawyer and judge questioning you.

That man has watched too much TV and movies.

"Where's my Emmy?" he asks you, papers in hand, dropping himself on the couch next to you and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You chuckle.

Seb begs you to let him join you in person at the Lenkov's trial which will be held in a courthouse in Zurich, Switzerland.

He wants to be there for you when you have to face the man of your nightmares for the first time since you were a kid. You know that moment would take a toll on you.

But you say no, due to his protection and safe-being, you don't want to expose him.

You look astounded when you spot him among the court audience, feeling a bit mad at him at first but soon he becomes your rock during those three challenging nights.

Especially when he holds you in his warm embrace as you crash down in your hotel room, surveilled by security, after exchanging words and holding your own with Lenkov after years.

Going out on dates with Seb feels almost organic, natural, easy, and relaxed, there's no intimacy yet, not even a kiss, just tenderness all over, some cuddles, and nights spent together talking.

He is giving you the time you need, allowing you the space to heal, and it's exactly what you needed, who you needed, to pull you out of that void.

With Seb, there are no doubts, no secrets, just honesty and love.

The intrusive thoughts of Toto start to fade away, he slowly transforms into a distant memory.

Qatar

Nowadays, everywhere you go Sebastian is there by your side, at trips, galas, in corridors, at meetings, during breaks, at lunch and people are taking note of it.

Especially during the fancy party the Qatari organized due to their GP's anniversary.

You walked inside that luxurious open venue under the skylight, arm-in-arm with Seb, the two looking so comfortable with the lack of personal space between you.

As the party progresses, he, ever the charming gentleman with his warm smile, turns your way. His blond hair is tousled just enough to give him an air of carefree elegance; he looks radiant in his tailor suit while leaning closer.

“Shall we?” he asks you, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. It is a simple invitation that sends a cascade of feelings coursing through you.

With a playful pull, he leads you toward the empty dance floor, you walk shyly at first. Almost instinctively, people turn to see. You can feel their eyes on you, curiosity brewing as if you were an unexpected plot twist in a story.

As the live orchestra starts a new song, the smooth voice of the singer pours from the speakers, wrapping the room in a sweet, melodious embrace. “Sway,” begins, the gentle beat inviting you two to move closer.

Vettel pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist, his touch igniting heat. “Just focus on me,” he murmurs noticing your nervousness, his breath brushing your skin.

With a confidence that is uniquely his, he guides you into a gentle sway, your bodies moving in harmony with the sultry rhythm. You could feel the mix of surprise and judgment hovering at the tables, specifically the Ferrari and Mercedes ones.

Even from a distance, you caught sight of Toto's furrowed brow, eyebrows almost meeting in disapproval; Lewis watching with his arms crossed, shooting glances that said it all.

"Y/N" Seb sweetly calls your name, asking for your attention back. You look into his eyes, those deep pools of sincerity that are becoming so difficult to resist. Suddenly, your worries melt with each passing note, every sway bringing you closer to a reality where you can love freely.

His steady embrace encourages you to lean into him further, to bury yourself in his warmth, placing your head on his chest, and your entire group of friends gasp in complete disbelief.

"WHAT THA FUCK?!" Lando lets out, almost spilling his drink. "WHY?!"

Oscar and Samantha laugh at his reaction but are as surprised as him.

By the end of that night, you feel lighter as if finally you were liberated from constraints that had once shackled your heart. Maybe you were reaching several closures as a person.

USA

"Howdy partners!? PHEW! PHEW!" Charles greets Sam and you wearing the world's most insane cowboy outfit, barrell fake gun and all.

"You look like a cow with those spotted leather chaps!" words burst out of your mouth as an instant reaction, not even a hi first.

"Where did you leave Bob SquarePants?" Samantha asks him, howling with laughs. "It's giving Patrick Starr"

"PERFECT!" Charles seems way too cheerful about that.

It turns out Leclerc is dressed like this for a sponsor's charity event made in collaboration with Nickelodeon.

Families with kids are everywhere on the grounds and installations were created on the circuit's fields for the special event, Carlos is the first of the gang to join you there, still healing from his accident.

No one dared to ask you about your thing with Toto, even when something was clearly going on between you two, although not as clearly as it is with you and Seb, Toto was notifiable only if you paid attention.

But this time around it was impossible to ignore the elephant in the room, especially when the elephant was holding hands with you in public right now.

"So are you two..?" Mick asks with half a smile already forming on his lips.

"Yes." comes in unison from you.

They don't need to know more. They don't ask more.

After eating a delicious grilled burger, you observe the parents interact with kids, Everywhere you look around there are families and you wonder what that would be like.

Sam seems to read your mind and reaches you to hold your left hand, and then you feel Millie holding your right one, also getting a sense of what is going on, now you are in the middle of a Dobrev sandwich.

Then Normani holds Millie's hand, and finally, Seb joins in, adding "I don't know what is happening, but I just wanted to hold hands with you girls." he smiles big and bright, closing his eyes and taking in the sun rays feeling them on his skin.

It's George's birthday. And it goes the most awkward possible that can go.

Just by start, he is so freaked out about getting old, that much so he doesn't want to throw a party at all and refuses the group's many texts and invitations to go out.

So you guys being... YOU GUYS.

Plan a small gathering for him at the hotel bar, just a Casa Blanca-inspired night, something simple, not too over the top but old-timey and fun enough as his style is.

You all show up in your best tuxedos and gowns.

Hanging around in the same small space, with Seb by your side and Susie by Toto's feels awkward as fuck at first, but as the night progresses you come up with good terms at completely ignoring each other.

Even if you try to black it out, you are utterly aware of the "Wait isn't she married?! And those two know no shame!" vibes coming from people.

When you reach closer to greet Bono, hanging with Lewis as usual, you move to embrace Hamilton and he pulls you away, making your jaw drop and your heart sink. For the rest of the night, you seem keen to address it with him, you want to know how to fix it and understand fully what's going on.

But he doesn't allow you the chance.

For much that a visibly hopeless Niki tries to bring you, Lewis, and Toto closer, creating dumb excuses for you to interact.

Nothing succeeds.

Until Sam calls for a few rounds of "Cards against humanity" almost by the end of the party when it's just "the OGs" remaining as she and Charles love to refer.

And Toto drops a "Slap me____" card and you can't resist it for your life.

Answering "Like one of your headphones", making him and everyone laugh like idiots and steal away the points for you.

He bumps you playfully with his shoulder, smiling brightly.

For the first time in a while, it feels like it used to be.

Maybe the two of you could become friends?

Yeah, puff, who are you kidding!?

Mexico

During the Mexican Grand Prix, it was almost Halloween and Day of the Dead.

So you texted in advance on the group chat, weeks before, that you all should show up wearing costumes. Hey, dressing up is always fun!

So you arrive at the paddock, excited to see what the others pulled.

Your meeting spot is the usual, behind the medical wing, near the ambulances' entry, where you all have more privacy.

You get there along with Mick and Michael (who showed up in versions of their Williams uniform but like they were basketball and baseball players).

You went dressed as Niki - red cap hat, silver headphones on, plaid oversized shirt with an exaggerated size access badge hanging from your neck - rocking those denim dad's jeans, and a ridiculous and enormous flip phone along with like four walkie-talkies attached to your black belt.

"Goodness! HA, HA" George tells you, smiling big at you when you reach him; he was the first to get there, with Angela and Roscoe.

"Pow!" You throw him a pose, "Pow!" a turn, and another pose, "Pow pow!" you point to your orthopedic sneakers, it was all in the details.

"Wait till he sees you. He will love it, Oh, I need my Merc shirt in this version" George greets you while grabbing the fabric on Schumi's shirt. "This is so cool, mate!" They get caught in a conversation about Jordan, Kobe, and the old guard and prime of players while Mick and you play with Roscoe (who hates his costume and keeps taking it off, God knows how Angela was able to get him into his tootsie roll candy suit).

Lewis is not around there until a couple of minutes later, acting still cold at you, he just waves a hand your way and that's it. When George approaches him smiling and stands by his side it's when you fully appreciate their outfits; George is the fish, and Lewis the chips.

"Niki has a better ass!" Sam tells you, looking you all up and from all angles and slapping your left asscheek, she arrives dressed as Ocon's FIA time penalty charts, many large cardboard signs attached over a form-fitted black dress. Enough penalties to cover her to the knees.

And Millie arrives after with what turns out to be your favorite costume of the day as "Lewis lost-projected to the skies all worn-out tire from the Miami GP" It has you all rolling on the floor and gagging.

"Oh, It's so fucking good!" Sebastian tells the group looking like a cute Toad, and Millie pats his cute puffy mushroom head hat. "You can punch it and still I will not feel a thing. That's how puffy it is" he says, and four immediate slaps come on Sebastian's way. Big mistake.

After him comes Charles dressed as "Charles Brown", with an oversized t-shirt and shorts, but instead of a yellow one, it's a Ferrari's red zig-zag stripe one along with a tiny horse plushie popping out of his shorts pocket. His version of Snoopy.

You hear a sexy "Sum sum" to your left and turn around to be greeted by a Lando leaning sexyly on the wall in his censored naked Sim outfit.

"Argh! It's so genius!" Millie lets out.

Last but not least, Checo shows up dressed as a Catrin, which impresses you with how artistic and cool it is, with Carlos by his side wearing a Transformer version of his car. Everyone squeezes in the selfie before Angela takes a proper group photo. You feel ready to break the internet that day!

Smiles, chats, and laughter fill the place as usual when you are all together. But you are missing one, a very important one for you.

Where on earth was Toto? He is in the group. The idea of him in a silly outfit got you curious and eager for days.

Around 20 minutes later, Carlos notices a cameraman in the distance, then photographers start to snap pictures and get closer. You all try to ignore them and get them to go away.

You succeed but then, 10 minutes later, an FIA steward calls you to their offices.

You returned after a while, and now the group was forced to hang inside the W hospitality, since the fans and press found them, demanding photos and selfies, Michael saved everyone inviting them in, so you all are having nonalcoholic drinks, and food there.

"Guys the FIA wants us to get rid of our outfits, and change for quote on quote proper clothes, costumes are not allowed, apparently, "Makes us look unserious and cartoonish," they told me" You go and imitate a boring middle age man voice, "and it goes against the FIA dressing code, I had no idea there was a dressing code" you rub your chin, like thinking.

"Well, it's not like we are planning to race in these!" Checo adds as a reply to the absurdity. "Besides, it's super early! Of course, we will change, but not now. Well, I'm not. I don't know you guys?"

A lot of me neither are heard.

"What do they plan to do? If we don't comply, I mean. Penalize us all? It's stupid!" Sebastian comments, getting visibly annoyed at them, but in his usual calm and soft voice, resting his elbow on Checo's shoulder, he was on his feet, and Checo was sitting on the high stool, enjoying french fries.

Penalties for everyone. That's what they indeed did.

"Weirdly, Christian was the team principal who took it better when he got the notice" you gossip with Charles.

He even told me: "You should have let me know! I lost my opportunity to show up as Ginger Spice!" he joked with you when you both crossed paths on your way to the garages.

Your relationship with him is weird but good. He's a little shit and so annoying regarding work and his schemings, but he's an enjoyable person offside tracks. One day, you ended up sharing breakfast by chance, and he turned out to be different from what you expected, you spoke about life and so on.

But with Toto, the news of getting a penalty on their way due to your dummy ideas went bizarre pretty fast, you recall.

"What happened to your costume? Did the dog eat it?" you tease Toto, looking at his plain Mercedes uniform that night in Mexico.

"I'm a team principal. I thought it wouldn't be a good look, and judging by the fine resolution, it wasn't," he answers you deadpan, arms crossed, both leaning relaxed against a wall near their motorhome.

"So, you do care about how you are perceived?"

"Not precisely, but I take my job, and my position here seriously."

Your eyebrows go up. "Thanks, man. I'm a joke, then"

He didn't mean it that way. But, hey, at least now you two are talking, instead of ignoring each other existence.

"Just because one has a little bit of fun while doing its work doesn't mean it's not professional" you defend your point.

"Shit, then, I should have shown up dressed as Roger Federer as I planned" he winks at you and enters his garage, ending the conversation right there.

Bringing you back to the present, Charles replies: "That's why I don't get them. Why do they create those stupid meetings promoting sportsmanship and building relationships to burn all bridges? It's absurd, no?" The three of you are in pajamas and getting facials since it was the end of the day.

"Toto was pissed. He truly hated you a bit." Sam informs you, in her insides even though she is happy you are with Seb, there's still in her this doubt about where you are truly regarding Torger. She thousands of times would prefer he was with you instead of back with Susie.

"Oh, that man takes his job too seriously! Could be bad for his health!" you hint no more.

"Not just him, you won't believe what Mattia warned us?! He pulled me and Sebastian to the side after a team brief, by the way, he hates Seb even more now that he's with you, and told us that we needed to get our mind straight, that you don't win championships by being the friendliest on the grid, and that we should stay aware of those so-called friends' real intentions" Charles spills the tea as the violet light of the mask on his face goes off.

"Imagine what would do to him if he found out you two live together?!" Sam starts to laugh maniacly.

"They are getting so paranoid! And that's Christian's job, and he was so chill" You roll your eyes, as the esthetician turns off your mask and pulls it away.

"Well, Millie and Lewis got added seconds, which is an advantage for his team and Max. So... I get why he be chill with it"

"Of course, he is going to be chill!" Charles agrees.

"I don't know guys, I'm not with you on this one! I think he meant it."

"It's just that we know him more." They both nod.

"Years, yeah, years," Sam states.

"I'm going to be more careful from now on, to avoid you guys' trouble, I'm still so sorry." you sound a bit sad.

You apologize for the hundred times on the group chat and you receive lots of "fuck them" replies.

"You do you. I don't care what the FIA says, you are the glue, I don't remember a near time when everyone was interacting like we are now and it's all because of you, you are the glue." Carlos expresses.

Those words warm your heart.

Before the race starts you tap Vettel's helmet tenderly, it's Morse code for the word love. He is inside his car already in formation.

Toto watches from a distance, but he turns away immediately as he gets caught by your eyes.

Yes. This could have been us if you had chosen me.

Lewis' car is right behind Seb's. He watches the full scene unfold before his eyes. You tried again to address things but he gave you no chance, he seemed so disappointed with you somehow.

After the race is over a furious Lewis intercepts Sebastian at the parking lot gates, as Vettel is close to his bike.

"You are a cheater, now?" takes him by surprise.

"It's not like that," Seb replies calmer, closing the gap. Lewis is wearing a gorgeous LV email leaning on an SUV.

"For real..." he rolls his eyes, angry, and shakes his head, hands entering the front pockets of his denim-pattered luxurious jacket.

"Lewis," says almost whispers, tender.

"You know I always held you so high." Hamilton bites his lips, not wanting to scream or cry.

"You trust me?"

"I don't know..." this seems to visibly hurt Seb, "If I do that anymore." he finishes saying.

"Why?" Sebastian sounds wounded.

"I don't comprehend who this is." Lewis gestures to him. "Who is this version of you? My Sebastian is a kind person and would never deceive anyone or hurt."

"Lewis, I am still that same person."

"Listen, don't mind me, you do you." Lewis moves his feet on the parking lot gravel, softly, he keeps his composure well.

"Lewis, it's not my place to tell you." Seb sounds hopeless.

"To tell me what?" Lewis for the first time, looks him straight in the eyes.

"The whole picture. Why don't you talk to her?"

"You are who I care about" his answer is fucking honest, "I just wanted to remind you that it never ends well, that you get burned when you play with fire, and that's all." Lewis shrugs his nose, sniffing a bit, the night air is as cold as this conversation.

"She cares so much about you, as well as I do, you know I love you. And I know you do, too."

"Well, as a person who got deeply hurt, almost annihilated, by a serial cheater, I don't feel like having business with someone of the same kind."

Sebastian knows Lewis means well. It is just his trauma and not understanding the whole picture talking.

"The truth always comes out," Seb reassures him. It is a phrase both faced in their lives.

Lewis always reacts weirdly when Sebastian has a new partner boy or girl. It was the same for him when Lewis introduced Miles to him. He just needs time.

"But, I hear you loud and clear," Vettel adds.

Lewis nods and gets inside the black-tinted car.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

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rocknroll7575 · 1 month ago

Text

Lord of Domination (DawnKnight AU)

Jaune barely managed to push himself up, his muscles screaming in protest, when a sudden force slammed into his chest. The impact stole the breath from his lungs, sending him crashing back down with a painful thud. The ground beneath him cracked slightly from the sheer force, his vision swimming from the jarring blow. Gritting his teeth, Jaune forced his head up, his glare burning with defiance despite the pain radiating through his ribs. Standing over him, exuding an aura of malice and unrestrained cruelty, was none other than Molag Bal.

The self-proclaimed Daedric Prince loomed over Jaune, his expression twisted into a grin filled with wicked amusement. His eyes gleamed with predatory delight, drinking in the sight of Jaune's struggle like a fine wine.

"It's amusing that you continue to resist, but that is what makes this so appetizing," Molag Bal purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

He let out a low moan, savoring the moment as if he had just indulged in the most exquisite delicacy. He took a step forward, the weight of his presence pressing down like an invisible force.

"You see, Jaune Arc, the truth is… I want you to resist, "I'm not here to save you, I'm not here to spread the greatness of our rule, I'm here because I enjoy this!" His voice sharpened, vibrating with a deep, sadistic pleasure. He continued, his tone almost giddy with excitement. "See, to me, there is no greater pleasure than seeing the weak beneath my boots, and feeling the warmth of my fist… drenched in blood," Molag Bal lifted his foot slightly, as if to remind Jaune of his place, before curling his fingers into a tight fist. A dark chuckle rumbled from his throat.

Jaune's breaths came in ragged, gruff gasps, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he struggled to pull air into his aching lungs. Pain lanced through his body with each breath, but he refused to let it show. Instead, he forced himself to glare up at the monster before him, his eyes burning with unfiltered hatred. Every fiber of his being screamed in defiance, refusing to bow, refusing to break beneath the weight of his tormentor. Even as his body protested, his resolve remained ironclad.

Molag Bal let out a low, satisfied chuckle, the sound deep and cruel, as he lifted his foot from Jaune’s chest, stepping back with deliberate leisure. He loomed over Jaune, basking in the moment, savoring the sheer animosity directed at him.

"I'm going to let you get up, I'm going to let you pick up your sword and shield, and I'm gonna let this little fight of ours continue," he said smoothly, his voice laced with mock generosity.

His grin widened, his fangs glinting as he tilted his head slightly, watching Jaune like a predator toying with wounded prey.

"Because I want to savor this, I want to break you—slowly and painfully—and when you can't walk, when your arms are too shattered to lift even a finger..." He let the words hang for a moment, letting the promise of suffering sink in before his eyes gleamed with an even deeper cruelty. "I'm going to bring Serana here," he whispered, his voice brimming with sinister delight.

Jaune's eyes widened with fear and horror at the words of the sadistic creature before him.

"And I'm going to break her before your very eyes, I'm going to break her, just like I did all those years ago," His grin stretched wider, wicked and razor-sharp, his voice trembling with sheer, sadistic glee as he declared, "And I am going to love the looks on your faces as your spirits finally break!"

His laughter rang through the air, filled with triumphant, twisted joy, as if he could already taste the agony he was about to inflict.

Jaune's fury, which had been simmering beneath the surface, finally erupted like an uncontrollable inferno. His body trembled with sheer rage, his breathing ragged as adrenaline surged through his veins. Every word that had left Molag Bal’s mouth, every vile promise of torment, had chipped away at his restraint until nothing remained but unfiltered wrath. His Aura flared to life, golden and fierce, crackling around him like a living force of defiance.

With a guttural roar, Jaune summoned every ounce of strength left in his battered body. His fingers found the dagger hidden at his hip, his grip tightening around the hilt as he moved with explosive speed. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, his blade gleaming as he drove it deep into Molag Bal’s knee, the sharp steel piercing through flesh and sinew with sickening ease.

The Daedric Prince’s eyes widened in shock before a guttural, agonized scream tore from his throat. The sound echoed through the battlefield, raw and unrestrained, filled with something Jaune had never heard from the monster before—genuine pain. Molag Bal staggered, his body lurching as his leg buckled beneath him. He crashed to the ground, his hands instinctively clutching his wounded knee, dark ichor oozing from the wound and staining the earth beneath him.

"You miserable little worm!" Molag Bal snarled, his voice twisted with pain and fury, his once smug grin replaced by a grimace of unbridled rage.

His fingers curled into the dirt, trembling, as he glared up at Jaune with murderous intent.

Jaune forced himself to his feet, his entire body radiating with unrelenting fury. It wasn’t just in his glare—it was in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breathing came out in heated bursts, in the way his very soul burned with unyielding rage. The seething hatred within him demanded justice, demanded retribution. His hands trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the overwhelming desire to tear the monster before him apart piece by piece.

His gaze locked onto the fallen Daedric Prince, and without hesitation, Jaune lifted his right foot high before driving it forward with brutal force. His boot slammed into Molag Bal’s face with a sickening crack, sending the so-called Lord of Domination sprawling backward into the dirt, his head snapping to the side from the impact.

But Jaune wasn’t finished. He refused to give Molag Bal even a moment to recover. With a growl of pure, unfiltered rage, he dropped to one knee and unleashed a relentless barrage of punches, each strike fueled by every ounce of hatred and pain coursing through him. His fist crashed into Molag Bal’s face once. Then again. And again. The ground trembled beneath them, dust and debris kicking up around them as Jaune pounded the sadistic prince with every bit of strength he could muster.

However, as Jaune reeled back for a fourth strike, Molag Bal’s hand shot up like a viper. His clawed fingers clamped around Jaune’s fist, stopping the blow mid-air. A wicked grin twisted his bruised face as, with terrifying speed, he swung his mace downward. The brutal weapon smashed against Jaune’s trapped hand with a sickening crunch, sending a wave of searing pain through his arm.

Jaune groaned, his teeth grinding together, but pain wasn’t enough to stop him now. He roared in defiance and, with his free hand, threw another punch straight into Molag Bal’s jaw. The impact sent the monster’s head snapping back, dazing him just long enough for Jaune to rip the dagger free from Molag’s wounded knee. Without hesitation, he drove the blade into Molag Bal’s other hand, pinning it to the ground with a vicious thrust.

Molag Bal’s agonized scream tore through the air like the wail of a dying beast. His body twisted, his fanged mouth contorted in pain and fury as his dark blood seeped into the earth beneath him.

"ARG! YOU FUCKING MONGREL!" Molag Bal bellowed, his voice filled with rage and disbelief at the audacity of a mere mortal daring to wound him so grievously.

Jaune didn’t give Molag Bal a chance to spew another word of filth. His fist, uninjured and trembling with rage, crashed into the monster’s face once more, silencing him with a brutal, bone-rattling strike.

"You’re not gonna touch Serana!" Jaune roared, his voice raw with fury.

His entire body shook, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer intensity of his emotions—rage, desperation, vengeance. His good hand clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his fingers aching from the repeated blows, but he didn’t care. His anger drowned out the pain, fueled by the unshakable resolve burning in his chest.

"YOU! WON’T! EVER! TOUCH HER! AGAIN! EVEEER!!!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the battlefield like a war cry. With every ounce of strength he had left, he pulled his fist back, his muscles coiling like a spring, before he drove it forward once more.

BAM!

Molag Bal’s head snapped to the side, a spatter of dark ichor spraying across the dirt.

"Is this what you wanted?!" Jaune snarled.

A second punch.

"You enjoying yourself?!"

A third punch.

A sickening crack echoed through the air, followed by a low, gurgling sound from the Daedric Prince.

"Still having fun!?!" Jaune shouted, his voice thick with fury.

A fourth punch. Another crack.

A fifth punch. This time, it wasn’t just bone—something deeper gave way beneath his fist.

The wet, sickening squelch of flesh splitting joined the sound of breaking bone, Molag Bal’s dark blood now dripping freely down his ruined face.

But Jaune didn’t stop.

A sixth.

A seventh.

An eighth.

And finally, a ninth.

Each strike carried the full weight of Jaune’s unrelenting hatred, each blow mangling the Daedric Prince’s once-proud features into an unrecognizable mess of bruises, blood, and shattered bone. His knuckles were slick with the monster’s ichor, but he didn’t care.

He couldn’t stop.

He wouldn’t stop.

"ANSWER MEEEE!!!" Jaune roared, his voice bordering on desperation, his breath ragged and wild.

Molag Bal’s face was nearly destroyed—his eyes swollen shut, his nose shattered, his jaw hanging loosely, barely connected to the rest of his ruined skull. Yet, somehow, impossibly, he was still alive. His breath came in wet, labored gasps, his broken lips twitching into what might have been a smirk—if his mouth still worked properly.

"I... take... the good... with the bad..." Molag Bal wheezed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Jaune gritted his teeth, his entire body shaking with unchecked rage. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling like a man possessed. His vision blurred with fury, his head pounding as his rage threatened to consume him entirely. His knuckles ached from the relentless onslaught, his arms trembled with exhaustion, but still, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Then, with a final, primal roar, he threw his head back and let loose a cry filled with nothing but fury, pain, and sheer unrelenting determination.

"RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Without hesitation, Jaune snapped his head forward, gathering every ounce of Aura left in his battered body. His skull crashed into Molag Bal’s already ruined face with a sickening CRACK, sending a fresh splatter of dark ichor spraying across the dirt. The impact sent a bolt of searing pain through his forehead, but Jaune barely registered it.

He pulled back again, his breathing ragged, his aura burning violently around him.

Another headbutt.

Another brutal, crushing impact.

Again.

Molag Bal’s body jerked from the sheer force, but he was beyond resistance now, his limbs twitching weakly beneath Jaune’s relentless assault.

Again.

A grotesque crunch echoed through the battlefield, Molag Bal’s broken form shuddering as his face caved further beneath the merciless strikes.

Again.

Jaune’s skull slammed into the Daedric Prince for a fifth time, his aura flickering like a dying flame, his body screaming for respite—but he refused to stop.

Again.

The sixth blow landed with enough force to shake the very ground beneath them, sending another wet squelch of blood and shattered bone into the air.

One final time.

Jaune's aura finally shattered in a brilliant burst of golden light, the energy dispersing like scattered embers in the wind. A deep, shuddering breath left his lips as his strength at last began to wane. His body swayed slightly, exhaustion finally catching up with him, but he forced himself to remain upright.

His bloodied fists trembled at his sides as he stared down at the mangled, utterly destroyed head of Molag Bal. The once-proud and arrogant Daedric Prince now lay in a heap, his face reduced to an unrecognizable mess of crushed bone, torn flesh, and thick, oozing ichor.

And for the first time since the battle had begun, the battlefield was silent.

At last, Jaune's rage, which had burned so fiercely, finally flickered out, leaving behind nothing but a hollow ache in his chest. His body trembled as a new wave of emotion overtook him—not fury, not hatred, but an overwhelming, unbearable sadness. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside the ruined corpse of Molag Bal, his strength finally giving way.

Tears spilled freely from his eyes, streaking down his bruised and bloodied face as he tilted his head back, staring up at the vast, uncaring sky above. His breath hitched in ragged sobs, the weight of everything crashing down on him all at once. The fight was over.

Molag Bal was dead.

The battlefield, once filled with deafening clashes of steel and monstrous roars, had fallen eerily silent. And then, the sound of approaching footsteps—heavy boots against blood-soaked ground—broke the quiet. The remaining members of the Dawnguard, The Companions, the Atlas Military, and a handful of Huntsmen arrived on the scene, weapons still drawn, prepared for a battle that had already ended.

But what they found instead was something that left them speechless.

The carnage surrounding them was unimaginable. The bodies of monstrous abominations, shattered weapons, and scorched earth bore witness to the sheer brutality of the conflict. And at the center of it all—Jaune Arc, kneeling beside the slain Daedric Prince, his fists bloodied, his armor battered, his body trembling as silent sobs wracked his form.

No one spoke. No one moved. They could only stare, awestruck by the sight before them.

A single man had done what many thought impossible. He had slain a Daedric Prince.

For the first time, amidst all the fear and uncertainty, a thought flickered in the minds of those who had witnessed this moment.

Perhaps… there was hope for Remnant.

Hope for the coming war against the remaining Daedric Princes.

But only time would tell if this battle was a turning point… or merely the beginning of something far worse.

#rwby #rwby meme #rwby au #rwby asks #rwby shitpost #rwby dawnknight au #jaune arc #molag bal #dedric prince #serana volkihar #serana skyrim

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fairyboy1111 · 2 months ago

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A prayer for Demeter + Digital offering

I sing of kind-hearted Demeter whose face framed in golden locks is so beautiful it endlessly expresses itself through blossoms of all sorts

Richly crowned with leaves of lively-green, cradling in your arms fruits of various hue; beloved queen, the yield of the harvest belongs to you

Year after year you send to mankind wonderful gifts from below the ground, they receive them gladly and with open arms wherever they may be found

Your generosity keeps us fed and supports all of mortal life, you fill our souls with bliss and remove our minds from strife

You give our hearts the strength to keep on beating, you keep away hunger’s cruel pangs so that they may be fleeting

To lay in the soft grass is to be held in your arms, to rest under a tree’s shadow is to be mantled in your veil; you know our needs and in accordance to them you provide us with the sustenance they entail

The wide-pathed earth is your throne, strong and deep-bosomed, teeming with life; a glorious chariot pulled by scaly dragons is yours to drive through the sky

Bearing ears of grain in one hand and a sickle in the other, you taught the art of agriculture to mortals, you are every seed’s mother

Birther of spring, when your daughter is away your grief barrens the world and dries up the land, yet when she comes back your joy overflows and enlivens every plant

Persephone is her name and to hug her is your greatest delight, fate has decreed that she divides her time between the underworld’s darkness and Olympus’s light

Oh, flower-decked mistress of the Horae, you who applauds and rewards toilsome labor; trim-ankled Deo, much besought for your bountiful favor

Lover of peace, bringer of justice, you uphold the laws of nature and men; petal-soft to those who act justly, thorn-sharp to those who spread pain

I beg you to heed my words and hear my prayer, children-cherishing crop-begetter, remind me to water myself so that I may keep on growing better and better

Guide me towards a fertile path where my life can bloom with glee; send your son, beauteous Plutus, to walk alongside me

Regard me graciously, bearer and nourisher of all beings, for day-to-day I honor your presence in all ground-born things

Smile upon me, happy and mild; daughter of lovely-haired Rhea, hold the hand of your child

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callsigns-haze · 1 year ago

Text

Short love: Chp 7

Summary: The is about widowed father Bradley Bradshaw who enlists his brother-in-law Jake Seresin and childhood best friend Robert Floyd to help raise his three daughters, eldest Donna Jo Margaret (D.J for short), middle child Stephanie and youngest Michelle in his San Diego home.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Warning: Fluff, flirting

As Y/n busied herself in the kitchen, preparing the turkey for their Christmas dinner, she couldn't help but smile as she glanced over at her niece Michelle, who was perched on the kitchen counter, watching her with wide-eyed fascination.

"Alright, Michelle, we're going to make the best Christmas dinner," Y/n exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement as she reached for the ingredients.

Michelle clapped her hands together with glee, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Yay, Christmas dinner!" she exclaimed, her little voice filled with excitement.

With Michelle by her side, Y/n set to work, expertly seasoning the turkey and preparing the side dishes with practiced ease. As she worked, she couldn't help but feel a sense of joy wash over her at the thought of sharing this special holiday meal with her loved ones.

"Can you pass me the rosemary, sweetheart?" Y/n asked, smiling warmly at Michelle as she reached for the herb.

Michelle eagerly handed over the rosemary, a proud smile spreading across her face as she helped her aunt with the cooking. "Here you go, Aunt Y/n!" she replied, her eyes shining with pride.

As they worked together in the kitchen, surrounded by the tantalizing aroma of roasting turkey and festive spices, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the precious moments she shared with her niece. With Michelle by her side, she knew that this Christmas would be one to remember, filled with love, laughter, and the joy of spending time with family.

As Y/n expertly mixed together the ingredients for the turkey filling, she couldn't resist the urge to serenade her niece Michelle with a classic Elvis tune. With a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face, she began to sing "Love Me Tender" in a soft, melodic voice.

🎶 "Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go..." 🎶

Michelle's eyes lit up with delight as she listened to her aunt's singing, her little feet kicking back and forth in time with the music. She giggled with joy, her laughter filling the kitchen as Y/n continued to serenade her.

Y/n's heart swelled with love as she sang, her voice filling the room with warmth and affection. With each verse, she poured her heart and soul into the song, her love for her niece shining through in every note.

As the final strains of the song faded away, Y/n leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Michelle's forehead, her heart overflowing with love for the precious little girl in front of her.

With their impromptu serenade complete, Y/n returned her focus to the task at hand, a smile still lingering on her lips as she continued to prepare the turkey filling. As she worked, she couldn't help but feel grateful for these precious moments shared with her niece, knowing that they would always hold a special place in her heart.

As Y/n continued to sing Elvis's "Love Me Tender" to Michelle, she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. Jake's presence was as comforting as it was electrifying, his lips finding her neck in a tender kiss that sent shivers down her spine.

Caught off guard by the sudden affection, Y/n couldn't help but smile, her heart fluttering with love for the man who stood beside her. She leaned back into his embrace, relishing the warmth of his touch as she continued to sing, her voice soft and sweet.

But as Jake's lips pressed against her neck, Michelle let out a loud "Ew!" in protest, her tiny nose scrunching up in adorable disapproval.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at Michelle's reaction, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she turned to face Jake. "Looks like someone's not a fan of our PDA," she joked, a playful twinkle in her eye.

Jake grinned, pressing a quick kiss to Y/n's lips before turning his attention to Michelle. "Sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to gross you out," he said, ruffling Michelle's hair affectionately.

Michelle giggled with delight at the attention, her earlier protest forgotten as she basked in the love and affection of her aunt and uncle.

With their impromptu moment of affection over, Y/n and Jake returned to their tasks, their hearts full of love for each other and for the precious little girl who had stolen their hearts. As they worked side by side in the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and love, they knew that moments like these were what made their family so special.

As Jake scooped Michelle up into his arms, the kitchen filled with laughter and joy. Michelle squealed with delight as her uncle spun her around, her laughter mingling with Y/n's melodic singing.

"Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill..." Y/n sang, her voice blending beautifully with the soft hum of the kitchen appliances.

Jake twirled Michelle around with expert ease, his heart overflowing with love for his niece and his girlfriend. He couldn't help but join in on the singing, his deep voice harmonizing perfectly with Y/n's as they serenaded Michelle.

Michelle giggled with delight, her arms wrapped tightly around Jake's neck as she soaked in the love and affection of her aunt and uncle. This impromptu dance in the kitchen was the highlight of her day, a moment she would treasure forever.

With each spin and twirl, the love between Y/n, Jake, and Michelle radiated throughout the kitchen, filling the room with warmth and happiness. As they danced and sang together, surrounded by the delicious aroma of cooking turkey, they knew that they were creating memories that would last a lifetime.

As Stephanie entered the room, she was greeted by the sight of her family dancing and singing together. With a grin on her face, she approached Michelle, who was still giggling with delight in Jesse's arms.

"Hey, Michelle, Dad's looking for you," Stephanie said, her voice filled with excitement.

Michelle's eyes widened with anticipation at the mention of her dad, and she squirmed in Jake's arms, eager to go find him. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy.

Jake smiled affectionately at Michelle before gently setting her down on the floor. "Go on, kiddo. Your dad's waiting for you," he said, his voice warm and encouraging.

Michelle wasted no time, her little legs carrying her out of the room in a flurry of excitement. "Wait for me, I got little legs!" she squealed, her voice echoing through the house.

As Michelle disappeared from view, Y/n couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before her. With her family gathered around her, dancing and laughing together, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be. And as they continued to enjoy each other's company, surrounded by love and laughter, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the precious moments they shared together.

With a playful grin on his face, Jake sauntered back over to Y/n, his eyes alight with mischief and desire. Without a word, he pulled her close, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/n melted into the embrace, her arms wrapping around Jake's neck as she returned the kiss with equal fervor. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony, their love and desire for each other evident in every touch and caress.

As the kiss deepened, Jake couldn't resist the urge to add a playful touch, lightly slapping Y/n's behind with a cheeky grin. Y/n let out a surprised gasp, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

Jake pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he gazed down at Y/n. "Sorry, babe. Couldn't resist," he teased, his voice husky with desire.

Y/n chuckled softly, her heart racing with excitement as she playfully swatted Jake's arm. "You're incorrigible," she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.

With a satisfied smirk, Jake pulled Y/n close once more, his lips finding hers in another searing kiss. As they lost themselves in each other's embrace, surrounded by the warmth and love of their family, they knew that this moment was one they would cherish forever.

As Jake and Y/n continued their passionate kiss in the kitchen, their embrace deepening, they were once again interrupted by the familiar voice of Bob, who ascended the big wooden stairs from his basement bedroom with his woodchuck puppet in tow.

"Cut it out!" Bob exclaimed, his puppet mirroring his words as he wagged a wooden finger at the kissing couple.

Jake and Y/n broke apart, laughter bubbling up as they caught sight of Bob's playful interruption. Jake grinned, shooting Bob a mock glare. "You're always killing the mood," he teased.

Y/n joined in the playful banter, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Guess we'll have to save the romance for later when the puppet isn't watching," she quipped.

Bob chuckled, working his puppet's wooden mouth with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You know I can't resist a good 'Cut it out' moment. Keeps things lively around here!"

With shared laughter and playful banter, the trio settled into a comfortable rhythm, grateful for the light-hearted moments that filled their home. As they continued to enjoy the warmth of their family gathering, surrounded by love and laughter, they knew that even the unexpected interruptions were what made their bond so special.

@daisyfieldrecs Thank you for recommending this series!

tagging:

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#hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman seresin #hangman top gun #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader

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whumpsoda · 1 year ago

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AWWWHTHE TWO WHUMPEES ARE SO CUTE

I raise to the anon that raised to the other anon to potentially make the more aware whumpee be threatened by their whumper to be turned into the more thralled whumpee cause they’re easier to deal with. or maybe they have a trigger word that causes them to melt into that state? then the next play date it’s even cuter cause they’re both barely functioning

plus the vampires notice that a, whumpee’s get into way less trouble after a play date and they seem calmer and less lonely. b, the whumper’s are getting closer as a result of the play dates.

WOHEO Masterlist

This sort of fits with what you said but also this is kind of just what your ask inspired :D

But I’m gonna admit I really like this piece (it’s so late who knows how I’ll feel abt it in the morning) and I’m so happy to write Nevan again :3

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw- vampire whumper, human whumpee, hypnosis/brainwashing, humiliation, pet whump, servant whumpee multiple whumpers??

———————————————————————

Nevan stood, posture rigid and trained, just as his master liked it. He kept still and unmoving, the only exception remaining being the subtle rise and fall of his chest, but even that was predominantly covered by his newest, delicately cream colored dress. His hands stayed locked upon his abdomen, fingers neatly intertwined, and his expression remained relaxed and blank.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there. He didn’t need to think about it. He didn’t need to think. Master would call for him when he was needed.

He waited and waited. He didn’t mind. If he had no use, Nevan stood still and pretty like Master wanted.

His eyelids soon fluttered open, triggered by his master’s ringing bell that instantly worked to pull him from a deep and submersive trance. His vision settled, shifting out of a muddled blur, so he could quickly gloss over the dimly lit kitchen.

The ring of the bell, no matter how faint and far away, to Nevan was almost as loud as an airhorn beside his ear. It took easy hold of his cobweb filled, mushy brain.

Each step to follow the beautiful noise was planned and graceful, like a perfectly programmed robot. Various voices full of joy and laughter graced his ears as Nevan neared, still drowned out by the captivating bell. For a smidge of a second his glossy eyes took in the group of joyous vampires, before turning to Darius.

Nevan stopped by the vampire’s side dutifully, positioned perfectly. “You called for me, sir?” He questioned, head tipped as his glassy eyes stuck to the floor.

Darius grinned pridefully to his friends, raising his glass to the thrall. “Refills for everyone, pet!” He demanded, slurring just a smidge at the end, and a few of the guests cheered in delight. Nevan shivered with glee from the mere sound of his master’s alluring voice.

“Of course, master.” Nevan swiftly stepped to the glistening silver platter that sat amidst the group, elegantly lifting a glimmering bottle of precious champagne.

Conversation continued to whirl around him as Nevan made his way to each seat, filtering through one ear and out the other. Only a couple of them poked or prodded at Nevan, either inspecting him or jokingly attempting to break his intense focus.

Liquid streamed from the opening of the bottle as he tilted it, the beverage bubbling and droplets splashing to the sides of each cup.

The vampires easily ignored him, but a good boy like Nevan didn’t mind. He was but a servant, fulfilling his duty to ensure Master and his friends fully enjoyed themselves.

The last of the refills was Adrastus, and Nevan’s heart pulsed with excitement all on its own as he neared them. Just their presence was enough to cloud his mind in a sip of extra pleasure, considering how powerful they were.

Nevan set the bottle of alcohol back to the platter with a tap, before sliding his hands to the ceramic teapot next to it. He tenderly gripped it, turning to the vampire, who greeted him with a heart melting smile.

“Hello, dear.” They held out their cup to him, their voice sending a chill of bliss trailing down his spine.

Nevan could feel their eyes on him as he watchfully poured their fill, fighting back the urge to allow his drooping eyes to fall to a close. “Thank you, sweet.”

“My, my pleasure…sir.” Nevan replied, subconsciously leaning toward their enticing aura. Adrastus continued grinning, leaning intently toward the thrall as well.

“So polite.” They stroked an icy hand affectionately down his face, then clutched his chin, effectively pursing his lips and tugging him closer. His breath hitched as Adrastus looked him over, shifting his head slightly each way to get a good look. They grinned wide with satisfaction, their pale cheeks pillowing and squinting their mesmerizing eyes.

Looping a finger through the tight cream collar strapped around his neck, they yanked him further, Adrastus’ face level with Nevan’s neck. He whimpered involuntarily, head swimming as their breath gently warmed his exposed chest. Nevan drowsily inched his head to the side, happy to expose more skin.

Please, please, please!

Adrastus slipped their finger out with a sharp laugh, causing Nevan to hazily flinch back. “How eager you are!” All eyes turned to them, and a flicker of dazed embarrassment tainted Nevan’s cheeks as the vampire chuckled. “Unfortunately I’m not your master, darling. Return to him and maybe he’ll be kind enough to fulfill that wish!” They giddily shooed him off.

His head began to clear just a bit as he stepped back, their spell loosening and his original orders resurfacing. Nevan set the pot back to its respective spot, and realizing he’d completed his master’s orders he strode to make a soft exit and return to his station.

The gazes of several vampires followed as he went to make his exit. He nearly passed right by Darius, before a forceful hand gripped right above his elbow. Any movement quickly ceased, halting him to a stop, and Nevan’s glossy stare never wavered as his master spoke.

“Seems you’ve taken a liking to Nevan.” Darius sneered, but at Adrastus. “I can see why, though. I think I’ve finally perfected him.”

“Well of course I have, Darius. You’ve seemed to have molded him exceptionally well, even better than the last I saw you two!” They exclaimed, before reaching down to the floor by their side. “But of course there’s no contest between him and my precious little puppy.” Adrastus cooed, shuffling their own thrall’s shaggy curls.

Malak purred, leaning into the touch of his loving master, all the while practically hidden away in a swaddle of plush blankets.

“Well you are a conditioning professional, aren’t you?” Darius joked.

Unmoving and ready, Nevan wondered when his master would supply him his next order.

Adrastus chuckled, giving Malak one more itch to the scalp. “Exactly! But, really, I’m certainly glad you’ve brought him to your liking. You always have been so particular with your thralls.”

Darius sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I know, I know, I can’t seem to help it. I really did want to allow him to retain more of his lucidity and intelligence, but he just wasn’t good enough.”

Nevan’s face fell with shame. He’d been bad. Even if now he couldn’t remember it, he’d disappointed his master, and for that he could never be forgiven.

“With a couple more conditioning sessions, he turned out perfectly, though.” Darius boasted, smugly.

The vampire tugged lightly on his thrall’s arm, prompting Nevan to turn and face him. “Perfectly obedient, perfectly thoughtless. A bit of a husk, if you will.” Darius bragged, meeting his thrall’s gaze with his own enchanting, magnetizing, beautiful eyes.

“A pretty thing, too!” One of the unfamiliar guests chimed in, to Darius’ delight. Even with a devoid expression, Nevan was silently beaming at the compliment.

Adrastus huffed a chuckle. “You always have liked them pretty, haven’t you?”

“Well what’s the point in getting an ugly servant? They’d ruin the look of the whole house!” Darius declared, taking a brisk swig of his drink. “One of his jobs is practically just looking nice. Like a little statue when I don’t need him.”

The other vampires nodded in acceptance. “Nevan has many jobs, though.” Darius wickedly grinned, turning to his thrall. He looked to Nevan, waiting enthusiastically for the thrall to fulfill his unfortunately not verbalized wishes.

Buffering for a moment, the human made no moves, until he noticed his master lick his glittering fangs. Nevan trembled with mind melting pleasure, his upper body obediently dropping toward his master. Head cotton filled and buzzing, he craned his neck as far as he could manage, sticking his flesh eagerly in his master’s face.

Master had already fed from him that night! He only took extra when Nevan was extraordinarily good! He beamed heavenly with a dreamy eyed smile.

Darius boisterously laughed, spittle flying from his open mouth, cutting right through Nevan’s bewitched spell. Other vampires giggled as well, and in a daze Nevan’s face twisted with a hint of confusion.

“Like you said Adrastus, eager. He’s often a bit of an idiot, though.” Darius snickered, smiling to his guests. “Down, Nevan.”

The thrall dropped instantly to the hardwood flooring, knees bumping with a stinging thud. Darius looked down to him expectantly, and Nevan stared back with puzzlement until he noticed the vampire’s legs. Darius wiggled his limbs, lifting them above the floor and resting them in the air.

Nevan slowly came to realize his mistake, thankful his master wasn’t more brutal with his insults as he usually was. He eagerly crawled toward the front of his master’s chair, stationing himself under Darius’ stretched legs.

Darius plopped them to his arched back, ankles rolling across his spine. The vampire’s pants tickled Nevan’s skin, goosebumps raising in delighted hordes.

Vampire laughs and claps enveloped the room, and Nevan could sense Darius relishing in the attention. “You did not! You really use him as a foot rest?” Adrastus exclaimed, poorly hiding their enjoyment of the scene.

Darius answered smugly. “Don’t be so dramatic! He likes it, don’t you, bud?” He folded over, reaching down to stroke Nevan’s silky locks.

Nevan mindlessly leaned into the gentle touch, savoring the gift of contact Darius so rarely gifted him.

“Good boy.” Darius praised, resting back comfortably in his seat, his hand slipping away.

Another vampire quickly jumped in, grabbing the full attention of the group, leaving Nevan to devotedly hold his form.

He didn’t know how long he was there. Palms and knee caps burrowing into the hard floor, straining his joints and muscles. Fuzzed sound dancing around his ears, not quite making their way into his clogged mind. But it was okay.

Master would call him when he was needed.

#asks :)#whump #whumpblr #pet whump #whump writing #mind control whump #my writing #brainwashing #vampire #vampire whump #vampire whumper #servant whumpee #hypnotized whumpee #hypnosis whump #Nevan oc #Darius oc #Adrastus oc #Malak oc #we only have each other

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