#if you could take a look into my head at any given moment the only thing that would be there is probably this on the loop

[muntitled]

Hangman

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: What's a broke girl to do when her university bills keep piling up and a sadistic Salesman offers to take all her problems away? All at one tiny little price.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Kidnapping, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Suicide, Restraints, Anxiety, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Oral Sex (m!rec), Deepthroating, Blood Kink

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

You hadn't initially intended on slitting your own wrist. That idea was birthed almost vicariously in the moment. If he hadn't stopped you, your corpse would have been found laying on a park bench, covered in its own wet blood that would have been dripping from its open wrist like a faucet. Surely his proposition would be better than that.

With your vision obstructed by a heavy blindfold, your hearing is ten times more prominent. You hear the sound of your own breathing, as if your body was taunting you with all the life it still begrudgingly held inside it. You also heard heavy yet elegant footsteps cross a marble floor. Then you hear the scratch of a vinyl as the very sounds of an orchestra bleeds into the atmosphere.

"Hello," said the Man in the gray suit who had accosted you in the park. You remember the way in which he had sat beside you.

No one had ever sat beside you. Not even any of your peers that roamed the university. Everything about your countenance was so worried and severe. You wore your money problems on your sleeves and that evidently warded off any chance of a social life you had hoped to have.

The moon was shining particularly bright and the stars were twinkling little spectators to your silent meltdown on the park bench. Your eyes had been reading and re-reading the email sent to you by the university. An urgent email amongst a sea of urgent emails begging you to 'please just pay them'.

"Don't slit your wrist," he had said, "Not before you've given yourself a chance to win at life first."

You had looked up at him with bloodshot eyes from all that crying over potentially getting kicked out of university. He hadn't melted at your expression, in fact he only smiled softly. "We ought to play a game-"

"I wasn't going to slit my wrist."

"You were just holding that boxcutter for fun, then?" He curled up an eyebrow, leading both of your gazes down to the pocket box cutter that sat in your lap, the blade extended.

"I'm not in the mood to play a game."

"Not even at the cost of your university fees?" Your eyes snapped up to him then. He sat a healthy distance away from you. The space between you both was filled with possibilities so endless it was becoming uncomfortable to breathe. "How much do you owe them now?"

"That's none of your business," you were on the verge of gathering your things. Your boxcutter and your pride.

Perhaps you could kill yourself somewhere else, preferably without a man accosting you about the embarrassing state of your funds.

"I could pay for your university fees, you know," His words morphed into an anchor, keeping your butt firmly planted to the park bench. A midnight runner passed by you two. An evening breeze blew through your scalp and the goosebumps descended.

"Of course, you'd have to win first."

Anyone could see the conflict warring within your irses.

"This is how people get sex trafficked," you'd said, "Absolutely no thank you," How utterly in control you had been! A girl with a firm head on her shoulders.

He only laughed then. He laughed and laughed, so much so he had to politely clear his throat.

"You were about to kill yourself. Don't pretend to have any self preservation now," his words had struck a cord deep within the inner workings of your soul. Your face heated as you hid yourself, tucking your chin against your chest. You did suddenly feel remarkably silly and so incredibly juvenile.

"Don't worry," he had said with an almost lopsided grin, "It's your lack of self preservation that I find so incredibly intriguing, hence I'm asking for one game."

It was only one game.

One game and if you were lucky enough to win, you might coast through the rest of university stress-free. Like a normal 20 year old with normal 20 year old problems. Boyfriends. Clubbing. Whatever else all those girls did when they huddled together in their magnificent little groups. You could be a part of them. For once you had to give yourself the opportunity of feeling like a member of society.

"Are these restraints a necessary element of our game?"

As you sit in this room- a room he had brought you too- blindfolded- you tell yourself that you are giving yourself a chance to be a normal 20 year old. That's why you were currently restrained to a leather chair. The restraints held your wrists to the armrests and your and your ankles to the feet of the chair. This led to the slight and uncomfortable spreading of your legs- a dangerously vulnerable position to be in when you were wearing nothing but a university jumper and a pleated skirt.

You quickly find out that you didn't like to be restrained.

Your chest rises and falls a little higher with every sharp intake of your breath as you will yourself into calmness. Freaking out now seemed completely silly.

Almost as silly as letting a stranger bring you to his hidden location.

Had you no sense of self preservation at all?

Were you a walking piece of meat, waiting for the first predator to sink its teeth into you?

Has that predator finally arrived?

"The restraints are unfortunately a necessary element.” He says, softly, “The human body tends to get jittery when it's met with unforeseen stimuli, and I don't want you running out on me."

That lets the panic solidify itself even more in your bones. This man walked as if he was a perfectly stand up guy and that helped in your decision of letting him bring you here.

Nothing seemed particularly wrong with him at first glance.

His face has all the workings of a perfectly normal man. He looked like he was in possession of a cushy, stable job with pensions and benefits. A salesman.

He looked like he attended his kids soccer matches on the weekends.

He looked married to a beautiful woman who looks good in mom jeans and baked brownies for her Wednesday night book club.

He looked so painfully normal.

But the panic is rising, the more that ‘danse macabre’ fills the room.

"C-Could you at least play something else," You are fidgeting now and it causes him to raise a brow. "Danse macabre is just," you attempt to swallow but your tongue is completely dry, "-incredibly unnerving, right now."

You try to massage your wrists in the restraints and you breathe through your nostrils as a phantom pain shoots through your legs. The need to move was eating you alive.

"You know your classical music," The man regarded you with slight intrigue as he folded the piece of material he had once used to obstruct your vision. He places it on a tiny coffee table before you. "Interesting for a kid your age. Do you know the story behind it?"

"Of course, I do, why do you think I'm nervous?" You had his full attention now. You were almost drowning in it as he lowered himself to a leather chair directly opposite you.

You had never had anyone listen to you as intently as he does. No one bothered to hear what you had to say. The voices in your head were your only audience…

Now you have someone seated before you, so lax as he urges you to, “Go on, explain why it makes you so nervous.” It was completely addicting.

“W-Well,” you swallowed the air again. “Danse macabre quite literally means dance of death,” he sits back in his chair, his fingers tapping against his mouth.

“Why?” he asks in deeply monotony, as if you had captured him as much as he, evidently captured hou. Like you weren't the only one in restraints.

Your brows furrowed “Is this quiz apart of the game-”

“No. I just want to hear you talk.” He says as he reaches over the side of his chair uncovering a sleek black briefcase veneered in expensive leather. He assures you with a single nod of his head that he's listening as he clocks open the briefcase.

“Well,” your eyes are on the whiteboard he pulls out, “Camille wrote this symphony all dark and depressing because it's supposed to sound like it's being played by death himself,”

The suited man smiles down at his busy hands as he lays your boxcutter on the coffee table beside the whiteboard. “I-It tells us that death is the great equalizer. It doesn't matter if you have money or you're about to be kicked out of university for insufficient funds-” he cracks a small smile at that, pulling out a whiteboard marker in the process, “the dance of death is inevitable for us all. Money can't buy you out of it.” You shake your head, “It's real medieval shit.”

You watch him smile again. It's devastatingly attractive which immediately raises the alarms in your own head. This man has restrained you in a chair, in an undisclosed location. For all you knew, death was very well the thing waiting for you at the end of all this.

But he wouldn't stop you from killing yourself, only to kill you himself, would he?

You'd heard about serial killers being raging narcissists. You would virtually be a lousy victim, having already wanted to die.

That thought calms you somewhat.

“We're going to play ‘Hangman’,” he turns the board to reveal a simple drawing of a gallow and a man hanging from it.

“Are you familiar with it?”

“Of course,” you nod your head, your nerves level somewhat at the sight of the little stick figure.

Just guess a letter to a mystery before the Hangman is drawn. These were children's games.

“For every word you get right, a semester of your studies is paid in full.” He smiles, warmly, watching the awe blossom across your face. “You'll get your degree and become the psychologist you've always wanted to be.”

Your brows furrow, “H-How did you know I-”

“Of course there's a penalty to the game,” you watch him erase the little stick figure, as he draws the little lines corresponding with the amount of letters in the mystery word. “If you don't guess the correct words in time,” Time stands still. “Well… The word get carved into your skin.”

You had never been a cautious individual. When your mother would fret and nag about your safety, you would roll your eyes. Everyone else always had self preservation for you. Why would you need it? Bad things rarely happen to boring people. The news coverage worthy stuff? You?

But here you were, fucking drowning in the Bad stuff.

"I'm not playing,” You begin to try and twist your wrist out of the restraints as your panicked eyes zero in on the blade seated on the desk. “I'm not fucking playing-”

“I'm afraid that isn't an option. What's your first letter?”

Despite the soundproof padding stylishly plastered against the sleek black walls you still scream "HELP-Oh my god- HELP”

He walks over towards you in large strides, clamping his hands in your skull and pulling your head back. He's much closer now. Closer than he had been at the park. His eyes are sparkling with intensity and a manic sort of quality that escaped you on your first meeting. Where were these eyes when you were still on that park bench, still able to choose to run far, far away to the nearest police station.

Where were these wild eyes then?

“Look at how scared you've gotten...” He laughs, in your face, “A scared, terrified little Doll-”

“Please let me go-”

“I'm not the one keeping you restrained here.” He lifts his hands as if he were completely crime-free, “You decided to play this game out of your own volition. You're restraining yourself, Doll”

“Jesus, that doesn't even make sense-” you cry, “HELP-”

He pulls a tighter grip around your hair, silencing your cries as a wince bleeds out of your instead..

“You don't wanna do that,” he says, staring deep into your glassy irses, “I have a thing for little girls with pretty tears-”

“Please don't hurt me-” you didn't wanna be a newspaper girl. You didn't want to be a nobody-turned-somebody because her death was so grisly it graced the front pages of a newspaper. That isn't the way your story was supposed to go and so you plead with the humanity inside him. You search for it under all that black ink filling his almond eyes.

Nothing.

They're absolutely black.

“Guess a letter, Doll."

You steal your nerves. Your shoulders slump.

“E-Every word has a vowel in it right?” his eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips against the side of your face. He seems like he's transforming into a completely different person right before your very eyes and it set you alight with fear.

Fear and something else.

“That's it, now we're getting somewhere,”

“I'll go with ‘A’,” a tense, mortifying silence stretches between you too. He begrudgingly removes his hand from your hair, patting down your head like the child he regressed you to as he strolled to the white board.

“Correct.”

He writes the letter ‘a’ twice on the little lines. The first one of the second line and the second one on the fourth line and almost with your brain slotting into place you raise your head. you wipe a stray tear on your shoulder before saying, “I-I- know what the word is.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Already?” Intuition was a scary thing. It was like a last resort, leaving you clamouring for hope.

“Care to share,”

“Is there an ‘r’” you look up at him. “I need to be sure.” Your legs are fidgeting in anxiety. Your fingernails dig into the leather under the armrest.

He is quiet as he draws an ‘r’ over the second last line.

“Macabre. The word is ‘macabre.’”

A slow almost predatory grin stretches across his face.

“How much did you say tuition was?”

Your heart stammers in its chest.

For those few moments you don't think about death. You don't think about blood. All you think about is that outstanding amount as you murmur a quiet, “₩3,893,852.”

You had it memorized.

The number that haunted your every waking hour, bleed from your lips like a prayer.

You watch as he lowers the white board marker to uncover a phone in his back pocket. He taps a few buttons and in a matter of moments- he turns his screen towards you.

What a remarkable day this had turned out to be.

“How do you know my banking details?,” you ask, squinting your eye at the screen, “Who are yo-”

“That round was too easy.” He moves to sit back down, “Here's your next word,” your heart falls when he only draws three lines underneath the gallow.

Three letter words could be the easiest or the most difficult when it comes to a game like this.

“A?’” you ask through wet lashes. Your only option was to hammer through the list of vowels.

“Ooh-” he pouts, before drawing a Hangman's head. “Try again.”

“E?”

He's silent as he draws a stick for The Hangman's body. The panic kickstarts once more.

“Shit-”

“That's not a letter?” He jests, “One more non-word and you're Disqualified, Doll.” His knee is bouncing up and down. As if everything in him was anticipating the end of the game. Your nerves are drowing in anxiety.

“I-”

“You can't just name every vowel under the sun, Doll. You don't have very many options remaining.” He draws the stick figures first arm.

4 chances left.

“O?” Your breath catches in your lungs. You watch as he throws his head back to lift his hips slightly, as if adjusting his pants. It almost immediately lowers your gaze to the prominent bulge there. Fuck. Not only was he anticipating your loss, he was getting off to the thought of it.

“Well done.” He writes ‘o’ in the second line. Right between the middle and end lines.

“Uh- ‘c’”

He adds another appendage to the stick figure. “3 more chances remaining.” He says, standing up. His arm jitters as he picks up the boxcutter in.

“G-” you ask through tears. He kneels in front of you, his eyes are almost as desperate as yours.

“You are the most fun I've had in years,” he admits, before turning to draw another appendage.

“Guess again, Doll,” the boxcutter extends and you cry.

“You don't have to do this,” You plead and he only sighs as he places his forehead against yours.

“You are such a brave little girl, you know that-”

“Oh my god-”

“2 more guesses.”

“‘T?” You squeak out so quietly, as your eyes squeeze shut.

He presses his lips to your right cheek and you melt. The fear all disappears and it's just you and him. Even on his knees, he's so large, so towering. It sets you alight with incomparable need.

“Well done, Doll- I'm so proud of you, " he sighs, “One more word, baby.”

“P- wait, No!" the sound barely makes it out of your mouth and looks down at you, chest rising and falling.

You hold your breath, eyes wide and wet and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Y- my answer is ‘Y’.” He exhibited all the signs of a sadist. Of course his word for you word be-

“That's my answer. “Toy”

A tense silence bleeds as he brings the boxcutter into your field of vision, and you're once again writhing in your seat. “Please- please no-”

“Fuck I'm gonna need to cum-” He admits gravely. Even more grave, even more harrowing, you're squirming in your seat. Lust balling deep within your cut. You're terrified but so utterly turned on.

Is masochism a symptom of loneliness?

“Please-”

He presses the blade to your leg and you both watch as he sinks the tip down onto your skin. For all those moments, you revel in the pain. The blade breaks skin and you cry out as droplets of blood grows pregnant along your thigh. Danse macabre crescendos and tears fall. As he swipes his finger along the drop of crimson.

“D-Did I not get it right?"

“”You got it right,” he admits, undoing the buttons of his blazer as he stands to his heavy feet once more. The menacing shadow of a God. He's humongous and you crane your neck back to look at him.

“my little winner-” he mumbles, planting a heavy hand on your head as his other hand rubs over his erection.

“I-If I got it right,” you mumble through your sniffles, “Th-Then why did you cut me?”

He looks down at you. The hand planted on your head moves down to the side of your face as he unzips his pants. Your heart is banging out of its cage as he lowers his pants just enough to have his hand slipping into his boxers.

He watches the blood smudged across your thigh.

“I just-” he curses as he uncovers his fully erect cock, leaking precum,“I just wanted to see your blood.” he admits gravely before bringing his cupped hand to your lips.

'Spit.’ He commands.

You're unable to look away. The precum beading the head of his cock slides down the thick veins along the length of it- all the way to the base. You want him in your mouth. Inside you. The need and the pain is an avalanche of contradictions.

He makes you feel so scared, so wanted.

“Don't make me ask again.” He says darkly, tilting your head up to look deep into his eyes.

His fingers prod at your lips and your mouth falls open as his hand delves inside. “Tongue out.” He whispers hoarsely, cursing once again when you roll your tongue out. Somehow incredibly obedient.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, Doll?” He asks, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips. You nod cautiously, feeling yourself descend into a state of mind you'd never been at before. You feel so pliant with his hand still on your cheek as he guides his cock into your mouth. You feel completely reckless. Someone like you who spends her time studying and worrying. Right now you were made to feel completely empty.

“That's it-” he coos, looking so utterly pained as his cock slides against your tongue, “That's my Doll,” he thrusts in and out of your mouth and you just sit there. Quite literally a doll. You let him use you, feeling more useful now than you've ever felt in all your years of living. There is beauty in submission that has a wet spot forming along your panties. You writhe as he begins to fuck your throat, drawing out a moan from him in the process.

“Shit- you're such a good girl-” there's fire in his eyes as he thrusts in and out. His hands move to the back of your head, forcing you down deeper on his cock. The sounds of your struggle -the gagging- it has his cocm twitching in your mouth

“Fuck-” he grunts, breathing so heavily as you begin to writhe in your seat, needing air.

“I knew you were special, Doll- I knew you were so far beyond self preservation- it borders pathetic” the saltiness of his precum trickle down your throat and you attempt to stomp your feet as your cries vibrate around his cock.

“Look at your hips moving baby,” he says, “You like this as much as I do. You're on my side. Even if you think you aren't.” Your hips are circling as if you're searching for friction along the chair as he groans. “Tell me you're on my side.”

He pulls your mouth off his cock and you breathe in deeply. You're coughing as droplets of spit run down your mouth. Spit and tears. Your face shows it all.

Your voice is hoarse. “I'm on your-”

“F-Fuck- I'm gonna cum-" He brings his cock back to your lips, “All over that pretty fucking face- fuck,” your tears fall as he strokes cock, emptying cock over you face. You keep your eyes shut, letting the sound of his pleasure-filled groans shoot straight to your puffy clit.

“I'm not letting you go,” his thumb moves over the cum coating your face. He moves his thumb past your lips, letting the cum seep into your mouth. Saltiness and need.

He needed you.

“You're not?” You ask petulantly, sucking on his thumb like you've regressed right before him.

“I'm not.” He confirms, “My little winner.”

[cherryxbooo]

You deserve only the best

Summary: Y/n falls for her best friend Carlos, but after he introduces his new lover, she discovers his true intentions. Heartbroken, she tries to move on.

Reader x Carlos Sainz

Genre: fluff/angst

Carlos Sainz had been my best friend for as long as I could remember.

We shared everything, inside jokes, moments of laughter, and a bond that felt unbreakable.

For years, we had been inseparable. Yet, for just as long, I had harbored feelings for him that I had kept hidden.

The truth was, I was in love with him, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I was terrified of ruining our friendship, which meant the world to me.

So, I stayed silent, even as my heart would race whenever he would act affectionate toward me, kissing my cheek, calling me pet names like "mi amor" or "querida," or giving me those long, lingering glances that made me believe he might feel the same.

It was complicated, especially when he’d kissed me a few times, nothing too serious, but enough to leave me wondering if something more could come from it.

I wanted to believe that he felt the same, but I was too afraid to make the first move, too afraid of pushing him away.

Then, one fateful day, everything changed.

We were at the paddock during one of his races.

The excitement in the air was palpable, the sound of engines roaring, the buzz of fans, the rush of adrenaline.

It was a typical race day, but something caught my eye that I hadn’t expected to see, Carlos talking to a girl.

A random girl. She was standing next to him, laughing, clearly comfortable in his presence.

I felt a twinge of jealousy course through me as I watched them. I didn’t know who she was, but something about the way they were standing so close made my stomach twist.

I immediately tried to push the feeling aside, but it was impossible. I needed answers.

I couldn’t just ignore it, so I approached Lando, who had become one of my closest friends over time.

I figured he might know who she was.

“Hey, Lando,” I began, trying to sound casual. “Do you know who that girl is? The one with Carlos?”

Lando glanced over, then shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve seen her before. Why? You don’t like her or something?”

I gave a small laugh, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “No, I’m just curious.”

Lando gave me a knowing look but didn’t push further. “You should ask Carlos, though. He’ll tell you.”

I nodded, though my mind was already racing.

I made my way back to the Ferrari garage, trying to shake the knot in my stomach.

I wasn’t ready to confront him, but I had to. I needed answers.

When I got there, Carlos spotted me right away. “Y/N!” he called out, a wide smile lighting up his face.

He waved me over, and I walked toward him, hoping to mask the turmoil inside me.

As soon as I got closer, he introduced the girl who had been standing next to him earlier.

“This is Sofia,” Carlos said, his voice filled with warmth. “My girlfriend.”

The ground seemed to fall out from under me. My heart sank into my stomach, and for a moment, I couldn’t find my breath.

My hands suddenly felt clammy, and I forced myself to smile, though it felt more like a grimace.

“Nice to meet you, Sofia,” I said, my voice steady, even though I felt anything but.

I turned quickly, excusing myself from their presence, and walked away before they could see the hurt that flashed across my face.

I barely made it to the restroom before the tears started falling.

I locked myself in a stall, letting my emotions spill out.

Why had I been so foolish to believe that Carlos could feel the same? I had spent so much time hiding my feelings, convincing myself that he might care for me, but here he was, with a new girlfriend.

But why would he lead me on? Kiss me, hug me, cuddle me, give me pet names?

Was it because I was too naive which made him take advantage of me?

Clearly.

He had never given me any reason to think otherwise, he had always been affectionate, always flirted, but it was all in my head, wasn’t it?

He never saw me as more than a friend. Just as someone to pass time with.

After a few minutes of crying, I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and told myself to stop.

Carlos didn’t deserve my tears. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I had no right to feel like this.

I walked out of the restroom, determined to leave the paddock. I couldn’t bear to stay and watch him with her.

I needed to put myself first.

As I walked toward the exit, I bumped into Lando.

He took one look at my tear-streaked face and immediately pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I shook my head, unable to speak for a moment. “I can’t do it, Lando. I can’t stay here and watch him with her. It hurts too much.”

Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes soft. “You don’t have to stay. You know you can always come to my garage.”

I smiled weakly at him, grateful for his kindness. “I need some time alone, Lando. But thank you.”

He nodded understandingly. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

I hugged him tightly before walking away.

I knew Lando understood, he was the only one who knew how I felt about Carlos.

Back in my hotel room later that evening, I let myself cry. The tears came without warning, a flood of emotions that I had kept buried for so long.

They were painful, but I needed them. They had been building up for weeks, months, even years because I had been lying to myself.

I had let Carlos get too close to my heart, pretending he was everything I needed, hoping he would eventually realize that we were meant to be together.

I had allowed myself to become wrapped up in his promises, those little gestures that I now realized had only ever been casual flirtations.

The kisses on my cheek that made my heart race.

The way he would hold me close for just a second longer than necessary, as if our closeness was more than just friendship.

I had convinced myself those moments meant something.

But now, all I had was the overwhelming truth that I had been foolish.

Carlos didn’t want me. He had never truly wanted me.

But more than anything, I was angry at myself. How had I let him take up so much space in my life without ever truly giving me what I deserved?

I had spent so much time convincing myself that he would come around, that he would eventually see how perfect we were for each other.

But he had never promised me anything. He never made me a priority.

And when it came down to it, when he found someone else, I was just... nothing.

I was left standing there, heartbroken, all the while wondering if it was somehow my fault.

But as the night dragged on, something shifted within me. The tears slowed, and I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me, the one who had let Carlos walk all over her, the one who had been too afraid to face the truth.

It was time to change.

I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep holding onto something that wasn’t real.

It wasn’t Carlos who needed to change; it was me. I needed to find my own happiness.

I had been so wrapped up in waiting for Carlos to realize how great we could be together that I had forgotten to love myself first.

The truth was, I had allowed him to use me. I had been there for him when he needed me, while he toyed with my emotions, knowing that he had me hooked.

I had been loyal, caring, and patient, but none of that mattered to him.

It was time for me to stop chasing after a love that had never been meant for me. Carlos didn’t deserve me.

I swallowed hard, the weight of the realization sinking in. I wasn’t perfect, but I had so much to offer.

I deserved someone who would see me, appreciate me, and treat me with the respect I had given him.

I wasn’t going to wait around any longer.

It was time to focus on myself, to heal, and to become the best version of me that I could be.

I was worthy of real love, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

Weeks passed, and I slowly started to feel the fog lift.

I spent more time on self-care; going to the gym, reading books I had long ignored, and enjoying the things I loved without the cloud of uncertainty hanging over me.

It wasn’t easy.

Some days were better than others. But I was finally starting to feel like myself again.

I spent a lot of time with my friends, especially Lando.

He had been such a rock for me through everything, and I could never thank him enough for always having my back.

One afternoon, we were having lunch together when he looked at me, his eyes full of concern.

“How are you really holding up?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

I had been trying to push everything down, but Lando could see through me.

“Honestly? I’m not doing great. But I’m getting there, Lando. Slowly, but surely.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Have you heard from Carlos?”

The question hit me like a punch in the gut.

I tried to act unaffected, but the truth was, I hadn’t heard from him since that day at the paddock.

He hadn’t called, texted, or even checked in on me.

“No. Not since that day. I haven’t heard a word from him,” I said, my voice tight.

Lando frowned, shaking his head. “That’s messed up. He’s been distancing himself, huh?”

I nodded, my chest tightening as I remembered the way Carlos had moved on so easily.

It stung, but I didn’t want to dwell on it anymore.

“He’s got Sofia now. I don’t think he cares about me at all. And honestly? I’m done caring. He made his choice.”

Lando’s face softened, and he reached across the table to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re doing so much better, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

I smiled at him, a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, Lando. It means a lot to me.”

We spent the rest of the lunch talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s company.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I was starting to come back to life.

I had been so consumed by Carlos and his inability to see my worth, but now I realized that I didn’t need him. I was enough on my own.

A month passed, and I was feeling stronger than ever.

I had rediscovered my love for life, for the things that made me happy.

I was no longer sitting around waiting for Carlos to give me the validation I craved.

I was content on my own.

One day, I was supporting Lando at a race, as I always did.

I was walking down the hallway of the paddock when I spotted Carlos talking to Sofia.

They were standing close together, whispering to each other, but as I got closer, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of their conversation.

They were fighting. Loudly.

I turned the corner and kept walking, but my mind was racing. I didn’t want to get involved in their drama, but it felt strange.

For a second, I wondered if Carlos was starting to see the same thing I had.

Maybe Sofia wasn’t as perfect as he thought she was.

I didn’t care. I didn’t need him to come back to me, I had moved on, or so I thought.

When I got back to McLaren’s garage, I asked Lando,

“Have you heard anything about Carlos and Sofia?”

He shrugged. “I’ve heard they’ve been fighting a lot lately. He’s been acting... different.”

“I think he’s starting to see her true colors.” I said, feeling a strange sense of vindication.

Lando nodded, agreeing with me.

“Could be. But don’t waste your energy on it, Y/N. You’re better off without him.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Lando was right.

I had spent too much of my time focusing on someone who didn’t deserve me. I was finally free.

A week later, I was running late to meet Lando for lunch.

As I rushed through the hallway, I accidentally bumped into someone.

Papers flew everywhere, and I quickly apologized, bending down to help gather them up.

But when I looked up, my breath caught in my throat.

Standing in front of me was a man who was everything I wasn’t expecting.

Tall, dark-haired, wearing a sharp suit that clung to his broad shoulders.

His smile was warm, magnetic.

There was something about him that made me feel instantly at ease, yet also strangely excited.

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice smooth and confident.

“But you’re in a rush, huh?”

I laughed, trying to hide my flustered reaction. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

We finished gathering the papers, and when our eyes met again, there was a spark. It was undeniable.

“You sure you’re not in too much of a rush?” he asked, a teasing smile curling on his lips.

I smiled back, shaking my head. “No, I’m good. Just feeling bad about bumping into you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, the best way to make it up to me is by giving me your number.”

My heart skipped a beat, and for a second, I couldn’t quite process what was happening.

But then I realized... he was serious.

I had been so wrapped up in Carlos’s drama for so long that I had forgotten how to enjoy moments like this.

I had forgotten that there were good people out there who actually valued me for who I was.

I blinked in surprise but couldn’t hide my grin. “Okay. You’ve got my number.”

He chuckled, clearly pleased. “I’m Pablo, by the way. I’ll be in touch.”

I watched him walk away, a rush of excitement swirling in my chest.

Maybe this was what I needed, a fresh start, someone who actually saw me.

As I rushed to meet Lando, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Who was that?” Lando asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"His name's Pablo. We bumped into each other, and one thing led to another. He asked for my number."

I said, unable to hide the grin on my face.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Look at you, getting a man.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin. “We'll see where this leads."

The next weekend, the excitement was palpable.

I had agreed to go on a date with Pablo after weeks of messages, calls, and a growing connection.

I was ready to experience this new chapter with someone who treated me like I deserved.

The day arrived, and I spent the afternoon getting ready, wanting to look my best.

I carefully picked out a beautiful dress, a deep emerald green that accentuated my curves, with a delicate lace overlay.

It was elegant, but not too flashy.

I wore my hair down, letting it cascade in soft waves, and my makeup was done elegantly, with just a hint of smokey eyeshadow and a natural, rosy lip.

I was almost finished when I heard the sound of the doorbell ring.

My heart skipped a beat.

As I walked to the door, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

When I opened it, I was met with Pablo, standing there with a charming smile, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"For you, beautiful." His voice was warm, and his eyes gleamed with admiration.

The flowers were soft pastel colors, delicate and fragrant.

I took them from his hands with a smile, feeling my cheeks flush under his gaze.

“Thank you, Pablo. They’re gorgeous.” I felt a wave of appreciation for how thoughtful he was.

He gave a small laugh, eyes twinkling.

“Not as gorgeous as you.” His words made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Pablo was always so attentive, and there was something incredibly genuine about him.

As we walked toward his car, I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he carried himself.

He opened the door of a Mercedes AMG for me, a sleek, expensive car that screamed wealth.

It was clear that this man was not just well-off; he was successful.

I knew a thing or two about cars.

Lando, my best friend, was obsessed with them, and wouldn't shut up about them.

He had so many that his garage looked like a car dealership.

The moment I saw the car, I immediately recognized the luxury, and I couldn’t help but feel impressed.

“Wow, this is gorgeous.” I couldn’t help but comment as I got in, still absorbing the interior.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s a little over the top, but sometimes, you just have to enjoy the finer things.”

He chuckled, settling into the driver’s seat. “But tonight’s about you, not the car.”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with pleasant conversation.

We talked about everything, his work, my passions, the places we wanted to visit.

He was thoughtful, but also funny and charming in a way that made me feel completely at ease.

The smooth hum of the engine only added to the calming atmosphere, and before I knew it, we had arrived at a stunning restaurant.

As we entered, the ambiance was just as sophisticated as the car.

Dim lighting, soft music playing in the background, it was the kind of place you came for an unforgettable night.

We were escorted to a private table, and as we sat down, I felt the weight of the evening's beauty surrounding us.

Everything about the night felt magical.

Over dinner, we continued to share stories and laughs.

I learned more about Pablo, his roots in Spain, his work as a CEO, and how he’d built his empire from the ground up.

It was a little ironic, hearing his story.

A Spanish man, an international success, yet here he was, sitting across from me, making me feel like the most important person in the world.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re a CEO,” I laughed, a little taken aback by how humble and down-to-earth he was.

“It’s almost too perfect, don’t you think? Spanish, successful, charming…”

He smiled, a hint of pride in his expression.

“It’s been a journey, but I love what I do.”

Then, his smile softened. “But I’m happier that I get to spend this time with you.”

I blushed, looking down at my plate for a moment, feeling a sense of warmth wash over me.

Pablo wasn’t just charming, he was genuine, and that made him stand out even more.

It felt like I was finally being seen for who I truly was, not just the exterior.

Months passed, and my relationship with Pablo deepened. We spent time together, growing closer with each passing day.

It was clear that he was everything Carlos had never been: supportive, caring, and loving in a way that made me feel truly special.

One evening, after a romantic dinner, as we strolled through the park, he stopped and turned to face me, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“Y/N, I like you a lot,” he said, his voice soft and serious.

“I want to be with you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

My heart swelled with happiness, and without hesitation, I responded,

“Yes, Pablo. I’d love that.”

It was a moment that felt like the beginning of something incredible, and over the months that followed, Pablo continued to prove that he was a man who meant every word he said.

He made me feel loved, respected, and cherished every single day.

Now, it was Friday again. This time, Lando had invited both Pablo and me to his race.

I was excited, Lando had always been a great friend, and it was nice that he and Pablo got along so well.

It made me happy to see the two important men in my life getting along.

Pablo and I were getting ready at the hotel, and I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

I wore a simple but elegant outfit, jeans and a fitted blouse, comfortable yet stylish.

As we walked hand-in-hand to the paddock, my heart was full.

The sound of the crowd, the engines revving, the electric energy in the air, it all felt so alive.

We met up with Lando, and he gave us both a big hug, making us feel welcome in his world.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it.” Lando’s smile was infectious.

He and Pablo exchanged pleasantries, and I could see the camaraderie between them.

It made my heart swell, seeing how well they got along.

After chatting with Lando for a while, he had to leave to prepare for the race.

Pablo and I stayed behind, walking around the paddock, taking in the excitement.

But then, Pablo excused himself to use the restroom.

As I stood alone for a moment, I caught a glimpse of Carlos out of the corner of my eye.

My stomach twisted, but it was too late to run.

He spotted me immediately and started walking in my direction.

When he finally reached me, he greeted me with an awkward smile, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

“Y/N, it’s been a while.”

I raised an eyebrow, my voice cool as I responded, “Has it?”

Carlos could sense the tension.

Carlos’ voice faltered slightly as he spoke, the words tumbling out quickly.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should’ve reached out to you sooner.” His eyes met mine, genuine regret flickering in them.

“I miss you. I’ve missed you so much.”

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my composure.

“Carlos, it’s not that simple.” I kept my tone cool, almost distant.

“You didn’t reach out because you didn’t care. You chose not to.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening.

“I know… I messed up. I get it now, Y/N. I broke up with Sofia. I’ve realized that you’re the one I love. I was just too stubborn to see it before.”

I couldn’t help but let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Carlos, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t have been with her in the first place. You wouldn't have used me for your own pleasure.”

My voice was steady, but the pain was evident. “You don’t get to come back just because you made a mistake.”

His expression hardened, but I could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I was confused, and I didn’t know what I wanted. But now, I know. I want you.”

He stepped closer, his voice soft and pleading.

“Please, just give me one more chance.”

The words stung, a mixture of old feelings and fresh wounds reopening.

I shook my head, pushing my emotions down.

“Carlos, I’m not that person anymore. You don’t get to rewrite history.”

My voice remained firm, the hurt too deep to ignore.

“You had your chance, and you chose someone else. I can’t just forget that.”

Carlos didn't expect that he was probably used to me always giving in.

“I didn’t want you anyways,” Carlos sneered, his words biting.

“I would’ve just used you like I did in the past, all the times you were too naive to even acknowledge that. Did you really think I wanted you in the first place?”

My heart stung at his words, but I refused to let him see that.

I could feel the old ache in my chest, the hurt from everything he had put me through, but I wasn’t going to let him win with his manipulation.

I stood tall, my gaze unwavering as I faced him.

“You’re pathetic, Carlos,” I said coldly, my voice steady.

“You never wanted me. You wanted control. And I’m done being your puppet.”

His eyes widened at my comeback, as if he hadn't expected me to stand up for myself.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore, the one who let him play with my emotions, the one who waited for him to change.

“So no, Carlos, I didn’t think you wanted me. Not then, and certainly not now.”

Before he could respond, I felt a familiar hand on my waist, and Pablo appeared, towering above me, his presence protective.

“There was a long line at the bathroom,” Pablo said smoothly, his voice calm but firm.

“Sorry it took so long, mi amor.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek before turning back to Carlos.

Carlos was frozen, staring at Pablo in disbelief.

“Mi amor?” He repeated, clearly stunned by the affection between us.

Pablo didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I’m Pablo Lopez. Nice to meet you, Carlos Sainz right? Best of luck with the race.”

His tone was polite, but there was an edge to it, one that made it clear he knew exactly who Carlos was and what had happened between us.

Carlos was speechless, clearly thrown off.

As I turned to walk away with Pablo, I heard Carlos’ voice call out to me, and I couldn’t ignore the familiar tug in my chest.

I stopped and turned slightly, reluctantly facing him again.

He walked toward us with a hesitant expression, clearly unsure of how to approach the situation.

"Y/N..." he began, his voice softer than before.

"Would you... would you want to watch the race from my garage? Like old times? I could really use your support today."

For a moment, I felt the weight of those words.

Old times. The days when I thought we’d always be in each other’s lives. But that wasn’t who I was anymore.

I didn’t owe him anything.

Before I could say anything, I felt Pablo’s arm tighten around me, his presence a strong shield by my side.

He didn’t hesitate for a second as he stepped forward, his tone calm but unwavering.

“No,” Pablo said firmly, his voice carrying the kind of authority that made it clear there was no room for negotiation.

"We’re with Lando today. We’re supporting him from his garage."

His words were a stark contrast to Carlos’ hopeful tone, and I could see Carlos' face falter at the certainty in Pablo’s voice.

Carlos blinked, taken aback by the decisiveness in Pablo’s response. He seemed to pause, trying to process what had just happened.

The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. His eyes flickered between Pablo and me, and I could see the understanding settle in.

He’d messed up, and he had no one to blame but himself.

“We’re going to Lando’s garage,” Pablo added smoothly, a subtle but deliberate edge to his words.

“We’ve already made plans. Best of luck with the race.”

Carlos opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was speechless.

The look on his face was a mixture of surprise and regret, as if he was finally starting to understand just how much he’d fumbled this entire situation.

I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at seeing him so flustered, but I reminded myself to stay composed.

This was his fault, and the reality of what he had lost was only just beginning to hit him.

“Let’s go, mi amor,”

Pablo said gently, placing his hand on my lower back as he led me away, giving Carlos one last glance that left no room for misunderstanding.

As we began to walk away from Carlos, I felt a surge of relief, but Pablo wasn’t quite finished yet.

He shot a glance back over his shoulder at Carlos, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The tension in the air was thick, and Pablo, always confident, was going to make sure Carlos knew just how badly he’d messed up.

With a sly tone, Pablo called over his shoulder,

“If you wouldn’t have fumbled this bad, you might’ve had the privilege of having this beauty with you... but guess not.”

Carlos froze, his expression going from shock to something like embarrassment in an instant.

He didn’t even have time to respond before we turned our backs, walking away with our hands firmly clasped together.

I couldn’t help but laugh softly at Pablo’s words. He was never one to hold back, but the way he handled that moment made me feel even more secure in the choice I had made.

As we walked down the hallway, Pablo leaned closer to me, his arm brushing mine, his voice softening.

“I’m just stating facts, mi amor,” he whispered, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I smiled up at him, shaking my head slightly. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Only for you,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

And just like that, the past felt even more distant, as if it never even mattered anymore.

The farther we got from Carlos, the more I could feel the weight lifting off my shoulders.

I was with someone who truly valued me, someone who had proven time and time again that I was more than just an afterthought.

And as we made our way to Lando’s garage, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing I had made the right choice.

As we walked toward the garage, Pablo turned to me with a concerned look. “Are you okay, mi amor?”

I smiled, my heart full from the kindness he showed. “I’m more than okay, because of you.”

He smiled back, pulling me in for a gentle kiss.

“I’ll always be here for you, no matter what."

"You deserve only the best."

"Te quiero, amor.”

Before I could respond, Lando’s voice echoed from behind us, shouting,

“Ewww, get a room!”

We laughed, but I could see the joy in Lando’s face.

He was happy for me, happy that I had finally found someone who made me feel truly loved and valued.

And as Pablo and I walked toward the rest of our evening, hand in hand, I knew without a doubt that I had found my happiness.

The past was behind me. My future was with Pablo.

The end

[mysunshinetemptress]

Smarter

Smarter Insight 1 Insight 2 Insight 3

You can’t breathe, it’s the only thing you can think of as the door swings open and your pulled into the house, you can’t breathe, you can’t get any oxygen into your lungs as they try desperately to get you to clam down, as they try desperately to try and understand what’s going on but you can’t speak because you can’t breathe and in a moment of panic they shout “I’m calling Leah ok.” That seems to help a bit as you let out a gasped no.

They looked confused as you still try to draw in a breath but you don’t want them to call Leah and that doesn’t seem to make any sense, nothing you gasp out is making any sense “it-it won’t-it won’t fit.” You’re lent over the counter your palms pushing into the cool top trying to ground yourself “it-it won’t fit.” You say again “her ring-her ring it-it won’t.” You feel light headed now but a voice in the back of your head screams at you that you’re not just breathing for yourself, you’re breathing for your baby and that seems to flip a switch as you place a protective hand on your stomach.

“Her ring-Leah’s ring it-it doesn’t fit.” Leah grabby looks at you eyebrows scrunched together in confusion “her wedding band, of course it fits darling.” You shake your head “It’s not her ring Granny, I-she.” You feel your stomach twist again as Leah’s granny tries to understand what’s going on.

“She’s cheating on me-Leah’s cheating on me.” Granny feels her blood run cold as her face drops “that’s-are you sure.” You nod as the pieces play in your head “she-she wasn’t wearing her ring- I told her I’d take it-her-she said her hand was swelling from practice and when I went to put it on-it doesn’t fit.” Granny can see the struggle, the way your hunched over scared that if you let go of the counter that the world will slip away. She sees your hand grasping at your stomach protectively and she herself starts to feel nauseous.

“Where is the ring Y/n.” You shake your head at the memory “I-i-SHE wears it around her neck.” Granny reaches for your hand grasping it tightly “who darling.” A tear tracks its way down your cheek “the girl she’s sleeping with.” Granny freezes, that ring had seen forty five years of pure love and happiness it was given to Leah so she could show it the same instead it’s been disgraced.

“I-what-what do I do.” You ask as granny leads you to the couch “I-i-we were supposed to have a baby.” Granny feels her heartbreak at your quieting voice “I was going to tell her it worked, that-that I’m pregnant.”

You’re so overwhelmed that you don’t notice granny calling Amanda, or the rest of your family, you don’t notice the blanket she’s draped over you and you definitely don’t notice that you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up to voices in the kitchen.

“I-how did she end up like this, I mean why would she do something like this to her marriage, to Y/n.” Amanda looks shell shocked as she sits talking to granny her hands wrapped around a mug “Do you think she’ll let us still see the baby.”

You place your hand over your stomach again “I-I can’t do this on my own .” You say stepping forward Amanda turns to you standing in the hallway “I-please don’t make me do this alone.”

[silence37]

A little something I wrote based on this moment, soon to appear in my New Earth novelization at some point:

Welcome Back

Air burst out of Rose’s lungs with a cry as she felt the last of Cassandra leave her. Like a cloth ripped from its tabletop, the world fell out from under her feet, all that mountainous pressure on her skull abruptly dissolving itself into a numb puddle.

She was back. Back in Ward 26; dizzy and nauseous, walls spinning around her in a sickly white sheen. She staggered; feeling her joints collapse into jelly as every one of her scattered senses, along with all the day’s hardships rolled up into one – the running, the body-swapping, the grueling climb up the ladder and that breakneck plunge down the lift shaft – came roaring back all at once.

It was too much. With a weak little gasp, Rose’s eyes rolled back into her head and then she was falling, spent at last, to the ground.

‘Whoops!’

Strong, damp arms seized her around the middle before she could hit the floor. Rose tried to get her legs back under her, but only ended up stumbling deeper into the arms’ embrace.

Jack, they reminded her of Jack. As she struggled to remember who Jack was, she breathed him in and her nausea subsided.

Doctor.

He was heaving her back to her feet, hands tight around her shoulders to keep her steady, his face full of concern. ‘There you go. You alright?’

It was only then that Rose registered his shivery wet suit and the alarming lack of distance between them. Blushing furiously, she quickly made to step back, to assure him she was fine, she could stand on her own, thanks – only to immediately keel over again as her knees buckled.

‘Whoa!’ The Doctor swooped in to catch Rose a second time, almost going down with her, too. He hoisted her back up again and held her close, both hands secure around her waist like they were in a strange sort of dance.

‘I’ve got you,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’ve got you.’

She clung to him, head flopping against his shoulder as she fought to get her breath back, utterly exhausted. It was going to take her a while to shake off the after-effects of the psycho-graft, given how long it had been used on her. What little the Doctor could see of her face was pale and waxy, and the psychic trauma had left an unnatural chill on her skin.

But it was her; it was definitely Rose. She was back. Safe. Alive. Unblemished by any disease. The Doctor could smell the scents in her hair, inhaling faint traces of sweat, perfume, disinfectant and… apple-grass. The very same apple-grass the two of them had lain in together, just a handful of hours ago.

Apple-grass, mega-cities, even cat-nurses… Rose had been so thrilled by it all! Thrilled as she always was by everything, wherever and whenever they traveled – even just to have chips, right after seeing the end of the world. Back on their ‘first date’ together.

Back when he’d been the old Doctor.

‘Come on,’ he urged, trying to get Rose to focus on him. ‘Look at me.’

Weary brown eyes blinked back at him, their normal bright shade having returned. The Doctor hadn’t even noticed it was missing while Cassandra had been mucking around in there, but the difference was obvious now.

‘Okay?’ he asked her gently.

Rose nodded, still desperately out of breath. ‘Y–Yeah…’

She felt as if she’d run a mile; her head throbbed painfully, and there was a slight buzzing in her left ear.

But no longer any sign of Cassandra. She had simply… moved on.

The Doctor was still holding her up. Still had both his arms around her; keeping her safe, keeping her steady. Feeling a bit stronger now, Rose got her bearings, gathered herself together – and found herself staring right into his eyes.

Those wonderful dark eyes; brown like hers. How deep they seemed to go…

And almost before she could stop herself, Rose was grinning goofily up at him. ‘Hello!’

God, that sounded so… odd. But it was worth it; just to see the Doctor smile back. For him to look at her like this, like she was someone worth caring for.

‘Hello,’ he beamed. ‘How’s the head?’

‘Alright, yeah…’ Rose gave a nervous giggle and poked her tongue out at him between her teeth. ‘Not heard you complaining yet!’

Now it was the Doctor’s turn to laugh. ‘That’s more like it! Welcome back.’

For a moment the two of them just looked at each other, faces lit up with a mutual joy and relief and unspeakable pleasure at being alive. The Doctor appeared to be fighting the urge to crush her into a hug and spin her around – but maybe, thought Rose, she wouldn’t really have minded.

It was like meeting him all over again, for the very first time. New man, different face. She’d said so herself, only today.

Was he, though? All the newness they’d had today; New Earth, New New Doctor – but some things hadn’t changed at all. Rose could see it in his smile, and feel it in his arms and hear it in his laugh. Everything changes during regeneration, the Doctor had told her. Every single cell. But not this. Not this time.

‘I missed you,’ she heard herself say. ‘Thought she was… y’know, gonna stay inside me forever…’

‘I know.’ She felt him squeeze her a little tighter. ‘Lucky for you, I’m brilliant and solved it all!’

‘How d’you mean…? What happened to all those sick people?’

‘Chemistry,’ the Doctor said happily. ‘When in doubt, Rose Tyler, you’ve gotta have chemistry.’

Rose sighed. ‘Never a day off with you, is there?’

‘Nope! Exciting, that’s me!’ He blinked, gave her an extra squeeze for good measure, and at last made to disengage himself.

But Rose couldn’t quite let go of him yet. ‘Doctor?’

She was staring up at him, and the Doctor stared back, his face inches from her own.

‘Yes?’

There were, Rose realized, so many important things she had to ask him. Things she had to say. Apologize for, even.

She – possessed she, but she all the same – had tried to kill the Doctor today. She’d tried to blackmail the Sisters of Plenitude. She’d released the plague-victims, the human test-subjects, and nearly caused an epidemic across the whole of New New York.

She already knew what the Doctor would say: ethics and formulae; glib stuff like ‘under the influence’ and ‘not in your right mind’ to make her feel better. And in a way he was right; none of it had been her fault – technically. But that didn’t stop her feeling guilty.

At the same time, Rose wondered if she should tell him. About what she’d done. About some of the more awkward memories which were now coming back to her piecemeal. Memories of playing with his tie, of calling him ‘lady-killer’ and ‘lover boy’.

And one particularly vivid memory of snogging him…

But there really was something electric in the way he looked at her, wasn’t there? Something in his eyes that said everything the silence between them couldn’t – and more. Rose had followed the Doctor into the TARDIS for all the wonders of the cosmos he had promised her, and the new man they came with now didn’t change any of that.

She could fall, and he would be there to pick her up. Every time.

For one giddy moment earlier today, she’d managed to tell the Doctor how much she loved traveling with him. But if there was something else she’d wanted to say – to say out loud – then she knew she had to say it, and she had to say it right now…

But if she did, would things ever be the same?

Rose took a deep breath. ‘Doctor, I––’

‘Oh, sweet Lord! I’m a walking doodle!’

DOCTOR WHO | 2.01

[lokisswiftie]

My beloved ghost and Me (Spencer Reid x Reader)

3.2k words

First time writing for Spencer, please be nice! I’m open for requests :)

Summary: Spencer Reid was your entire world. Until he died, leaving you with nothing but the ghost of him. But Is the ghost of him more present than you expected?

Warnings: Main Character Death (it’s literally the premise of the fanfic), mentions of Guns/Gunshots, loss and grief is a key theme, Reader is probably depressed, BAU!Reader, Heavy Angst, descriptions of violence, Ghost!Spencer, possibly ooc Spencer because I’ve never wrote for him before, written with early seasons Spence in mind. Yes I did make Wuthering Heights the book, who is going to stop me? Tell me if there’s any I missed.

When you first met Spencer Reid, you were both young agents at the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Before he ever became close to you, you’d found yourself slightly intimidated by his vast intellect. Still, you grew close fast, Spencer Reid was a kind person, more than that all his little quirks seemed to make you like him even more. The rest of the team could see you both falling for eachother fast, they could see the way his eyes always found you after he told a fact- searching for your approval. He always got it.

There was reluctance to accept the love between you. Love could hurt, and the two of you had experienced enough hurt to know that. But try as he might, Spencer Reid could not pull his eyes away from you. He could not stop himself from wanting you. The longing between you grew and resistance was futile. So on that quiet night at some hotel the team was staying at, when he had sought you out and your lips had met for the first time, it was a breath of relief after so long pretending.

After that your life was filled with Spencer Reid, and you woke up in the morning when the sun was creeping through your windows and saw him next to you and knew this was were you needed to be. You saw a brightness in him that seemed to pull you towards him, like a moth to a flame. Though, in the time that Spencer Reid was in your life he had only ever hurt you once. The pain of that flame came unexpectedly.

You both knew that with your work, with the job that you both had that there was danger. Part of the reason you both had for being so reluctant to be together was that something happening to one of you in the field was a haunting thought. And it could happen. And though you reassured eachother constantly, promised to be careful and tried to be… it did happen.

You never should have left him. There was a sinking feeling of dread in your gut the moment Spencer even proposed the idea of splitting up, but you had pushed it down. You had given the okay, agreed to him taking the back of the building and pushed down the crawling feeling of nausea in your gut.

Less than a minute. Less than a minute after your beloved had left your sight, the snap of gunshots echoed through the air. Your head had snapped in the direction of the sound, hands flying to your radio to alert Hotch that something had happened. Something had gone badly wrong.

Try as you might since that day, you can’t forget the sight of Spencer on the floor of the building, dark blood pooling around him. His eyes had been wide with almost childlike surprise, looking at the blood on his clothes like he didn’t even realise what it was. You stayed beside him till the EMTs came, and he’d begged you not to go. While you had been holding onto his steadily whitening hand, he remained as calm as he could and promised you everything would be okay.

Spencer died in the hospital. The gunshots- yes, that bastard had shot the love of your life multiple times- had broken inside him. Just like something had broken inside you the moment the doctors told you and the team that Spencer was gone. The rest of your team were doing their best to support you, but loss weighs down heavily. Especially when someone like Spencer is gone.

Since Spencer died life has felt at a stand still. Mandatory leave has resulted in you trapped at your apartment. Surrounded by your shared belongings. In the months after he died, Penelope was a rock for you, and bless her she really did try to keep you steady. She forced you to actually venture outside the apartment. And on the days when she arrived and you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed, she stayed with you too.

Nothing could replace him though. And the team couldn’t be there all the time- you understood, of course. But when you were alone, you felt the darkness creeping in. You couldn’t bare to open the curtains so your apartment remained in half darkness most of the time. When you slept, you dreamt of Spencer. And though you knew it wasn’t helping… you were just glad to see his face again. Even if he did fade with the morning light.

Three months after Spencer died, and you think you’ve driven yourself mad with pacing your apartment like this. Your daily routine has turned into getting up, and finding a new area of the house to be flooded with memories of Spencer by. Today you were standing by the bookshelf, swaddled in your pyjamas. Tears wet your cheeks. They always do.

This apartment had originally been Spencer’s, but when you moved into it he had accommodated space for your belongings. Both of you being avid readers, a large chunk of that was books. Your fingers trace over the spines of countless books, eyes flickering to titles. You don’t have an eidetic memory, but you can remember Spencer’s voice reading these stories to you during cold winter days, his arms around you tightly. You pull your hands away when you find a book Spencer had read to you late one night when you were both stressed after a case. Wuthering Heights.

You can feel the tightness in your throat already, and when you close your eyes you can see him again. Your hands hover over the bookshelf while your mind flicks back to that day with Spencer. Your Spencer.

“Are You okay?”

Spencers voice broke you out of the trance you had been in, your head snapping up to look at him in the bathroom mirror. He looked exhausted, already wearing his pyjamas and leaning on the door with tired eyes. He’s been watching you. Watching you staring at your hands, soaking them in the sink for so long they’ve started to prune. The water stopped being filled with blood long ago, but the urge to scrub your hands so hard the skin peels prevails. You wipe your hand on your face, sniffing while you quickly drain the clear water from the sink.

“I’m fine. Sorry I’ll be right in-“

You freeze in the middle of drying your hands, staring at yourself in the mirror. You can see the haunted look in your own eyes. Somehow the flickering bathroom light isn’t bright enough for you to forget what you saw on that case. Both of you know it. Spencer watches you for a moment, watching how you visibly recoil at the sight of yourself. For a long moment neither of you speak, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing.

When Spencer’s arms gently encircle your form, you jump at first before settling into him. Admittedly, you’re shaking.

“It’s Not your fault.”

He whispers by your ear, his voice as soft as the sweater he’s wearing. You’re looking at yourself in the mirror and find your lip trembling. There’s a look of skittish fear in your eyes that’s strange to you. You don’t remember starting to cry.

“I know-“

You try and reassure him, unable to meet the soft brown eyes you know are staring back at you.

“It’s Not your fault,”

He repeats it anyway, saying your name with a firmness. you realise how much you’ve begun to lean on him, and how his hands steady you. You’re filled with a rush of emotions and you turn around in his arms before he can see you fully start sobbing. Spencer pulls you into his chest without hesitation. Your eyes sting so you press your face further into his neck, and he repeats those words over and over again until you can believe it. Until you can’t cry any more, and he’s gently rubbing your back and pulling away.

You know you must look even more of a mess now, skin puffy with broken sobs. But he doesn’t look at you with anything less than adoration. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face and you exhale shakily, the space between you tiny.

“Let’s go to bed baby,”

And so you do, following Spencer into your shared bedroom and slipping under the lavender covers. You look up In confusion when he doesn’t join you, and your eyes land on him as he finally comes to join you with a book in his hands. He smiles when he sees you squint in questioning, and you could melt at the adoration in his eyes at that moment. He slips into bed beside you, beckoning you closer which you eagerly comply with and find your designated place in his arms.

“What’s this?”

You question finally, looking up at the sharp curve of his jawline from where your head rests on his shoulder. His face is focused as he flicks through to the first page of the book.

“Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë.”

He replies, and sensing the scrunch of your nose in confusion he adds with a coy smile.

“I’m going to read to you.”

You’re sure you’re burdening him with your unpleasantness, because once again you find yourself replying in a far more abrasive tone than his.

“I’ll probably fall asleep before you’re even started.”

You grumble, and you’re not sure why you’re fighting off the affection but something within you wrestled with your morals, begging you to be difficult. Maybe to see if he’ll love you anyway.

He turns his head to look at you when you say that in that specific tone, and his eyes have this way of seeing through you.

“That’s the point. Get comfortable, I’m about to start.”

He turns his head back to the book and as promised, begins to tell the story to you like you’re a little kid. You settle down without another word of protest, too exhausted and too content by the sound of his voice to fight it anymore. You find yourself Inhaling deeply while you watch his fingers dart over the page, surrounded by the scent of his cologne and drifting in a sea of his voice.

As promised, you slip into a sleep quickly, one far more restful than would be without his help. And when Spencer tenderly brushes your hair back from your face you lean into his touch. Sometimes you still find yourself leaning, but find nothing left of him to hold you.

A choked gasp leaves your throat at the memory, and then before you can judge the situation better you grab the book tightly by the spine. It’s hurting your hand how hard you’re gripping the ornate cover, clammy hand shaking with rage. The sound of your own crying has become like white noise over the past few months. It's filled so much of your time recently that the sound of silence is more distressing than the wretched sobs.

Your eyes flash and once again your head is filled with images of Spencer. When his eyes appear in your mind, you hurl the book right at your front door. For a moment you choke on your own sobs, before caving into the bookcase and without much grace slump to the floor. With your eyes blurry with tears you can see the book, it’s spine looking cracked. Spencer would have hated that. Spencer would have hated you for doing that.

“God, I’m sorry-“

It’s pathetic, you tell yourself. How often you find yourself apologising to the memory of your partner. The reason why changes every time. There’s so many reasons to beg for his forgiveness now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

You wail, and you can’t even be bothered to think about your neighbours. The first few times your wailing had disturbed them they had been understanding, and they gave you the same pitying smiles in the corridors that everyone did. Now, you're certain their sympathy has worn off. The bookcase makes a noise while you suddenly slam your head back against it. It aches deep into your skull, and when you find that it somewhat muffled the sound of Spencer’s voice in your head you do it again. And again, and again and again and again and-

“Y/N.”

No. You’d been slamming your head back so hard you were starting to see stars. Surely reprieve from the torment that is his voice should have come by now.

“Y/N.”

No, he sounds clearer this time. You almost scream in frustration. You weakly hit your head again.

“No!-“

Your voice comes out in a scream that silences the voice for a moment. The relief doesn’t even get a chance to fill you, before your chest starts to feel like it’s being crushed. You keep Your eyes screwed tight shut to avoid the sting of your own salty tears, and deep down to avoid his voice. Jesus, you must be past the point of insanity now.

“Y/N!”

Like a crackle of thunder, Spencer Reid’s voice echoes into the air around you. And it is a startling realisation, one that spurs you to blink your eyes open- but you’re certain. You didn’t make that up. He’s here.

Tears blur your vision, and you struggle to make out the room in front of you for a moment before it swims into focus. The sight rips the breath from your lungs all at once. Your eyes travel up, from his shoes which are shiny and polished, to the top of his head where his hair shines like a halo in the warm lighting of your apartment. There, like a mirage in the depth of the desert, is Spencer. Your Spencer. And he looks back at you with soft eyes.

The seconds where you stare up at him like a worshipper to a god seem to stretch into hours. You gape like a fish wrenched from the ocean, silently begging for words. Begging for an explanation for the man you love standing In Front of you, when for the past months all you’ve done is remember him dead.

Finally the silence breaks when you wheeze out a reply, breathing his name like a prayer while tears threaten to cloud your vision again. You frantically wipe them away, lest he disappear from the world again and leave you more broken than ever.

“Spencer?”

He looks back at you, his eyes startlingly alive. So bright, you could almost kid yourself that the young man before you is still alive and well, and not buried with all of his future in the ground with him. The guilt eats like maggots under your skin, a rot you’re certain is polluting the air around you. The way he looks at you with some kind of divine forgiveness in his eyes does not ease this feeling.

“I’m here, it’s me.”

He replies, his voice eerily nostalgic. And then he reaches out a hand to you, and you look at it. You realise how pathetic you must look, on the ground with your lips wobbling while you suck in breath after breath. You can’t seem to care when all you feel is disbelief. You stare at his palm; you don’t trust yourself to grab ahold of it in case he vanishes like mist in front of you.

“How… are you here?”

Your voice cracks and his fingers twitch like the sound pains him. You look up at him and can’t restrain the flood of liquid to your eyes when you say the words out loud.

“You’re dead.”

He looks down at you, his eyes warm with heartbreaking pity, and then he comes closer as he drops to the ground. You watch with stunned half believing eyes as he sits beside you, leaving a distance of approximately five inches between you both as he too comes to lean against the bookshelf.

“I was. I don’t know. I think I still am, I’m not sure I-“

His voice is like a fever dream, every syllable making you shiver with memories. You stare up at his face, and he cuts himself off and looks down at you. That’s when you know this must be real, because he has that look. The one that seems like he’s totally enraptured with you. None of your previous visions of him had given you that mercy, the burn of hatred in his eyes was more common. Spencer looks down at you with sorrow.

“I remember dying. I remember… watching everything that happened after.”

He explains, fixing his eyes on his hands while you stare at him numbly.

“I watched you for so long, Y/N. I tried to talk to you- I think I wasn’t strong enough then, maybe or something like that.”

Your heart, which you didn’t know could still shatter further, somehow does. Spencer. He’s been here, within reach but somehow not. If you could remember how to, you would laugh bitterly at the revelation that the universe has found yet another way to kick you down.

“What changed? How are you here now?- I don’t understand-“

You frantically ask, and he quickly reaches for you. His eyes flash with hurt for a moment when you duck away from his touch before they fill with understanding.

“Y/N, please- I’m here. I don’t know how, I think maybe I’m… stronger? I’ve been trying to get you to notice-“

You listen to him and at this your mind flashes with memories of the various objects that have been falling off of tables. You didn’t care at the time, but the pieces fall into place now. He continues.

“…I saw you hurting yourself and I didn’t think about it, I just spoke. And you heard me.”

There’s a moment of silence where the world seems to settle- it turned on its head when you saw him, and you’re not sure it will ever return to the way it was before. But the world around you settles as you grapple with the knowledge.

You stare at your palms stunned, and you can hear the anxious tapping of Spencer’s fingers against his thigh. It’s a sound you didn’t realise you’d missed. It’s then you realise sluggishly that he’d tried to touch you, and you’d pushed him away. It’s then that your body is filled with overwhelming need for Spencer, and it’s the moment that you realise you can have him again.

He lets out an exclamation when you quickly turn towards him and briefly look at his face. Not bloody, not bruised, not pale and lifeless. You choke on a sob, and launch yourself into his arms again.

“Oh my god, Spencer-“

You sob, and his arms wrap around you without hesitation. He’s just as eager to have you in his arms again, and he doesn’t flinch at the way you squeeze him harshly. He’s real. You reach up and you can feel the softness of his hair under your fingertips. You bury your face in his neck and you can smell his cologne once more. Then his hand moves up to gently cup the back of your head, which you’ve only just realised has started to sting. He cradles you close to him, and you can sense the worry emanating from him.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

He whispers, and presses a firm kiss to your forehead. You shudder at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as his breath tickles the hair on your neck.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

[ravennaortiz]

One for Two

Summary:Juice and Scarlett OC post Lost and Found . Juices release from prison and post Jaxs death. Multiple POVS!

As always 18+

Warnings: Character Death, mention of canon events, Implied/ referenced suicide/attempted

Juice was laying on his hard, cold, smelly bunk staring blankly at the peeling paint on the ceiling of his cell. Today for the first time in months his mind was quiet. His impending death tonight at dinner bringing a finality to his racing thoughts and anxiety. He felt oddly calm, almost at peace. In a way he saw this as a way to break free and get back to Scar. Even if it was in spirit form. He could only hope that was how it worked. He could only hope she wouldn’t soon join him.

“Do you wish to make any calls?” inquired Tully his cell mate as he walked back into their cell. Juice simply shook his head before resuming his staring at the bunk above him. He took no notice of Tully watching him for a couple of moments. Words on the edge of his tongue before the other man shook his head and walked back out of the cell.

***

Scarlett was sitting in the living room watching Half and Rat play a game when her phone rang. Glancing at it she saw it was the private line of Ron Tully. Fighting back the tears that were already forming she excused herself and made her way to her and Juice’s bedroom before answering. “hello?” she inquired her voice wavering as she bit her lower lip.

“Tonight.” Stated Ron before the line clicked dead.

Scarlet bit her hand to keep the sobs at bay as she dropped to her knees. Tears flowing fast and hot. Body shaking with sobs as her world once again came crashing down. How could she do this without him? Go on living? What was the point? No one else would ever love her like he did. Understand her like he did.

***

Tully stood silently. His fingers scrolling through the phone contacts. Normally he would not intervene but for some reason the younger Teller had burrowed under his skin. He wouldnt be able to forgive himself if she took her life. And he was sure that was what she would do. Given what Juice and Jax had shared that was the only outcome of this situation. He frowned as Jaxs number came up as disconnected.

***

“Where are mine and Juices weapons?” demanded Scarlett as she stormed into the living room. She had been looking in all the hiding spots and they were all empty. She had even went through Half and Rats room and the kitchen and anything that could even be considered a weapon was gone.

“Put up” replied Half as the guys paused the game. “No more free access. All the pills you had scrounged away are gone too”

“It’s for your own good Scar” stated Rat gently as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Being dead is what’s good for me!” snapped Scarlet before running back to her bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Juice was sitting eating his pie when Tully sat down across from him. “Just let me finish my pie”

“It’ll be quick” stated Tully as he nodded. His hand tightening around the shank that was covered by the napkin on the table.

Juice nodded his acknowledgment before continue to eat. Once he was done he stood up as did Tully. The other man grabbed Juice and was almost to his neck with the shank when he heard the words German shepherd rang out over and over. Tully dropped the shank letting it clatter to his feet as his eyes met Jax’s Vice President who was panting as he neared them.

“Talk about coming in at the eleventh hour” he muttered as he raised his hand and dismissed his guards.

“Jax pardoned him. I’m taking the laddie home now” stated Chibs firmly. The look in his eyes leaving no room for discussion.

“What is going on” demanded Juice as he looked between the men.

“I told her two hours ago. Someone should probably let her know before she has a chance to do something hasty” stated Tully as Chibs closed his eyes and muttered under his breath.

“What” started Juice again before CHibs cut him off. Yanking his arm as they moved towards the exit.

“No time laddie” stated Chibs groggily as he pulled out his phone to call Halfsack.

Scarlett was nervous as she stood out in the back yard. The odor of gasoline overwhelming as she held the lighter in her hand. She was starting to second guess herself. Of all the ways to die this was probably the worst. There was a chance that Half or Rat would catch her before she was dead and then she would probably linger in pain for days.

“What do you mean shes not here?” demanded Chibs as he stood in Scarlett and Juice’s living room. Rat and Half both rushing to speak, explaining they had put all the weapons up and such. She had been in the garage organizing and came back to the kitchen to organize it. Then to her room they thought.

“Wait she went to the garage?” stated Juice as he made his way to the kitchen. His eyes zeroing in on the open junk drawer. The lighter she got him gone, the tin it was in on the counter. Fuck he thought as he caught movement out the back window.

Scarlett had no idea what happened. One moment she was standing. Lighter in her hand ready to open. The next she was lying face down in the dirt. A heavy weight on top of her. Her right wrist ached terribly from the grip on it. She fought to get the weight off her.

“Easy Scar its me. Its me baby girl” stated Juice soothingly as tears slipped down his cheeks. His grip on her wrist loosening so that he could toss the lighter away from them. “It is just me. I’m here. Everything is okay” he continued until he felt her relax under him. His heart aching when she sobbed his name. Letting her up she wrapped around him. His shirt soaking up the excess gasoline that she was soaked in.

“Jax is dead” repeated Scarlett as she sat on the couch freshly showered and wrapped in a blanket as Juice held her close. Chibs nodded as she looked at him.

“I’m sorry Lassie. His last wish was to make things right between you guys. He wanted you to read this when you are ready.” He stated as he held a sealed envelope out to her. “The club and I will take care of everything.”

[radioactive-cloud]

was thinking about this moment (as one does) and... can we talk about how even after jan flicks his tongue nace stays there for second before leaning back?

also what were nace's intentions? did he lean in for a smooch? a kissy kiss on the lips? did he want to tease jan? to tease the audience? what was his reasoning? this moment haunts me and consumes my every waking thought

[streetslost]

       CAT FORCED HERSELF TO STAY SILENT. to not just pick up the nearest item and chuck it at angel's head. the brunette wasn't exactly known for social grace, and the ability to be reassuring, encouraging, easing... any of that was far from her strengths. being met against angel's stubbornness wall was GRATING to the patience, but despite her frustrations, cat wasn't so foolish as to believe her desire for a physical retaliation would do any good. in fact, it could do the opposite; why would old friend want to trust someone who could turn violent in a heartbeat.

                    it wasn't personal, it was just difficult. learning how to deal with people didn't happen overnight, and now that she was in the position she was, cat was forced to keep hold of her tongue. to be g o o d, else the eyes of scrutiny would have her hauled off to jail for poor behavior. she toed the line more than she ought to, so the flexibility she had been given despite her probation was more than she really had earned. perhaps she took far too much advantage of it, and one day that would most likely be her downfall were she not careful.

      so she gritted her teeth behind pressed lips, tension quivering her cheeks as she inhaled as slow as she could manage. reel in the heartbeat, reel in the thoughts. thoughts that bang bang banged about like a drum that some little kid had found. incessant, unrelenting. and terribly, terribly bad at playing to boot...

                        "doing great or doing better?" fire in her tone, fingers curling around her forearms as she crossed them before her. give her something to grip, to hold, to divert their intentions away from any other prospect.

       perhaps, she recognized in that moment, was not she was angry with angel. not a n n o y e d. it was fear. hearing words aloud that spoke to her own heart, her own raging emotions. in a different way; a different life. scott's immediate and extended family were not about to run out of money any time soon, there would be no getting rid of her over anything in relation to finances.

                 but there were some burdens money couldn't alleviate. her personality was a shining example of battles people couldn't always arm themselves for. the world around her now couldn't quite grasp her most days. the former thief boiled too hot, spilled over, then turned frozen in an instant. was BOLD and brash one moment, then a defiant wall of refusal the next. refusing to talk, refusing to open up. a jarring creature when standing next to the ones that took her in. warmth and compassion and pleasantness were lacking. her only use was the media's frothing interest that something would go wrong soon... and maybe that wrong was her. they could all be sick of her at any moment and choose her to be gone or to be behind bars. it would only take a phone call most likely. no more, no less.

         reminded that she still didn't feel human most days.

                  "i know wha' you mean," acceptance flood her voice to tiredness. "the idea of... any day y'wake up and everything you finally had is jus' gone. taken from you. left with nothing but the reminder tha' once again, you're shit."

        her gaze went distant, hands shook mildly as she realized she had released her clenching, unfolding her body, and was looking for something to idle them. she probably should be helping back in the kitchen... "but yet here i am, i guess. y'know... maybe it was different for you but. something i've thought about recently. all those times i thought i was safe and FINE and home... other people had set it all up for me. given me the space, the opportunity, and ultimately really left me no choice. good or bad. it was their making. but this time... this time, it was my choice. sure, they gave me the opportunity... but i had t'be the one to take it. somehow, an' i don't know how to explain it... i think tha' means something."

And that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

"Maybe I don’t know their limit.”

The blonde paused to let her tongue moisten dry lips, picking her words carefully as she did so.

“But I don’t think they know it, either. They could have taken me in with all the best intentions in the world… but those intentions don’t mean a thing if it turns out they can’t manage a fifth child after all.”

Never mind that she was hardly a child, so close to crossing the boundary of adulthood in her own right… Angel was sure she had enough issues of her own that adopting another young kid, and all the struggles that entailed, would be an easy prospect for anyone compared to dealing with her day in, day out. Even Tenderfoot had hardly seen the full extent of her internal struggles, the old self-loathings - though those had thankfully been quiet in recent weeks without Buster to stir them up - and fears of abandonment that gnawed at her very heart at any chance they got. She wouldn’t be able to settle easily to a home life.

Even if she was taken in, Angel was sure that the road to her actually feeling accepted would be a longer one than any family would have the patience to tread.

She shook her head. “And when the expenses mount up, and they realise they can’t support everyone, who’s going to be the first to go? You can bet it won’t be the kids they’ve raised since birth.”

Nor would she want it to be: she’d fought too hard for Tenderfoot to appreciate what he had to ever want to strip him or his sisters of it. That wouldn’t make it any easier to take when she was, almost inevitably, shown the door. It always happened; no sooner had she been taken in, got comfortable, finally dared to hope, than it was snatched from under her nose…

She stared off into the distance, not really seeing anything.

“You’re right, I could take a no. What I couldn’t take is a yes that they have to take back in a few months… just like everyone else has.”

That was what she was afraid of, that was the chance that she couldn’t bear to take. In that moment Angel couldn’t remember how much she’d told Cat about her past adoptions, if much at all; but those memories, of open arms that eventually turned hostile… how could she possibly believe that everyone wasn’t like that? When something happened five times, that was far too many to dismiss it as a one-off.

She forced herself back to the present, a small smile back to her lips.

“Besides, all I really needed was getting Buster out of my hair. I’m doing great now, I promise.”

It wasn’t quite a lie… but great was very definitely a relative term.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀❞

a/n: i'm going insane guys anyway love u all mwah <333333 afab body but no gendered language btw!

part two.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ GOJO SATORU

▸ creampies. please just let this man cum inside of you omg he'll go insane. seeing the way his release leaks out of you afterward has him ready for another round almost immediately.

▸ dacryphilia. "you crying'?" says it all right there. he'll coo, a bit mocking, and wipe at the tears running down your cheeks.

▸ size difference. he's so big compared to you. his height, his hands, his dick. he gets off on it so hard seeing you have to look up at him :(

▸ praise (giving + receiving). he'll charm your panties off if you really want, just make sure to let him know how good he's fucking you, too.

▸ overstimulation. hand in hand with dacryphilia. he's not done with you until he's shooting blanks and you're a weeping mess below him.

▸ breeding. listen.. he needs an heir for the gojo clan. he'll fuck you into the mattress for hours on end- he just wants to make sure his baby takes, that's all.

▸ orgasm denial. he's a cocky man, and he knows it. he loves the exhilaration he gets controlling your orgasm, making you beg for it before he gives you any satisfaction.

▸ pussy/thigh/boob jobs. he wants to put good use to all of your body.

. *. ⋆ GETO SUGURU

▸ choking. the feeling of you swallowing as his large hands cusp at your neck is like a drug to him.

▸ begging. seeing you so compliant under him as you plead and cry for his touch... those pretty little eyes and wobbling lip. it's mean, he knows that. he just couldn't care less.

▸ sense deprivation. tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him all that power? he goes crazy for it.

▸ degradation. you wanna be fucked like a slut, he's gonna treat you like one.

▸ edging. when he's feeling really mean, he'll edge you for hours. until you're shaking and whining and the only word you can get out is a broken moan of his name.

▸ impact play. he loves waking up and seeing the red imprint of his hand on your ass oh my godddd don't get him started.

▸ hair pulling (receiving). he wants you to tug at his hair, card your fingers through it, pull it as you're riding his face!!!

▸ sadism. pretty much hand in hand with everything above. he's such a mean boyfriend but he knows how much you love it.

. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO

▸ biting. your shoulders, neck, and thighs are full of his teeth marks, almost perpetually. and of course he's not gonna complain if you leave a few bites, too.

▸ begging. show him how much you want him, how badly you need him, and he'll fuck you as much as you want. you just gotta put in a little work first.

▸ worship (giving + receiving). seriously this man worships the ground you walk on from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep. he just asks you worship his cock the same

▸ overstimulation. he's fuckin you until his legs are giving out from under him and you're nothing but a fucked out, drooling mess being pressed into the bed.

▸ blood play. i mean... i think this is a given.. will purposefully bite down too hard just to lick the blood clean as an apology.

▸ orgasm denial. he knows once you cum, it's over, and he just wants to stay sat in your pretty pussy a little bit longer- you understand that, right?

▸ somnophilia. his favorite breakfast is in between your thighs. besides, you don't think there's any better way to wake up, anyway.

▸ voyeurism. pleaseeee pleaseee pleaseee let him watch you masturbate it's all he needs in this world !!!!!

. *. ⋆ SUKUNA RYOMEN

▸ anal. he needs to claim every hole your body has to offer. plus true form sukuna is a slut for his double penetration just saying

▸ choking. hearing your choked gasps as he squeezes your throat could make him cum on the damn spot. watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as each second passes on.

▸ exhibitionism. no, he doesn't care that there are other curses around and no, he doesn't care if they can see. you're his, and he'll fuck you anywhere he wants to.

▸ extreme bondage. watching your poor, writhing little human body tug at your restraints uselessly is something he'll never get tired of.

▸ collaring. he'll even get his name custom engraved, just so everyone who looks at you know exactly who you belong to.

▸ degradation. he's a mean thing, but you seem to enjoy that for some reason. he savors in the way you clench around him every time he calls you a whore.

▸ edging. you're not allowed to cum until he's says so, and anything before that? you're in for one hell of a night.

▸ predator/prey. let him chase you through the woods as foreplay. he'll inevitably catch up, of course, but seeing you attempt to get away is so cute to him. especially when he's had enough of the teasing and is pinning you against the nearest tree.

[sttoru]

tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’

“toji, you’re gonna break that thing,” you stifle a laugh as you watch your husband’s muscular form squeeze into one of the playground equipments. megumi is on his lap, giggling as he gets to experience what it’s like to go down a slide with his parent.

toji rolls his eyes and grumbles something along the lines of ‘the damn brat forced me to’. you know how weak that man gets when his son looks up at him with those big, sparkly blue eyes. you’d have given in to megumi’s requests as well if you were in his place. thus you don’t blame your lover at all.

“papa, go!” the little boy pats his dad’s thighs, excitedly smacking the muscles. the pure glee on his tiny face makes you smile as you witness the scene from the bench nearby.

“give me a sec, kid,” toji responds with a grunt. his legs are pressed tightly against each other, trying to wiggle down the slide. his body isn’t going anywhere— not even moving down one centimetre.

you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat while you watch toji struggle. the confused and impatient look on megumi’s face as he glances up at his father is pure gold. “papa go?” your son pouts and squirms.

this is embarrassing for toji. he can’t wait to get off and go home. the only thing he can do is pray that no one else sees this view of a grown ass man stuck on a slide.

you pull out your phone and start recording the hilarious sight. “hun,” you call out to toji, covering your mouth while giggling behind the camera. “you can do it!”

your humorous encouragement makes the dark-haired man kiss his teeth, “tsk, quit that.” he manages to move his legs in a certain way so he could glide down. the process however is quite. . slow.

toji’s body stutters and goes down the slide in a wonky way. megumi is not amused at all as he sits there and stares downwards, cheeks puffed up. he expected to go much faster than this.

the toddler looks like he’s about to complain the moment he reaches the bottom.

“mamaaaaaa!”

as expected, the little boy quickly hops off toji’s lap, leaving his humiliated dad sitting at the end of the slide. megumi runs off to you and jumps up onto your lap, an angry yet adorable frown on his face. he whines and hugs you, refusing to face your husband who’s walking towards you.

toji scoffs at the sight. “oi, you ungrateful little shit,” he comments and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, “y’ should be thanking me for squeezin’ my ass up on that tiny thing.” he glances down at his son who’s clearly sulking in your arms, disappointed in his performance.

you’d usually scold toji for using such foul language around the kid, though you can’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. megumi actually got offended by his dad being unable to properly go down the slide with him; it’s adorable.

“no, papa shit!” megumi retorts unexpectedly, causing you to laugh even louder. you shake your head and try to make a serious face - to reprimand your child from saying such words - only to fail.

toji clearly didn’t expect the boy to mimic him again. he raises an eyebrow and you know he’s not going to hold back. that man will fight anyone, even his own son who’s only a toddler.

“whadd’ya say there, bud?” your husband huffs and takes a step forward. megumi squeals as he feels the intimidating aura of his dad get closer to him. he squirms off your lap and runs off into the playground, squeaking.

you watch your child scurry off in attempt to escape toji. you grin to yourself, seeing the excitement return on megumi’s face at the aspect of playing with his parent.

toji runs a hand through his messy black hair as he sees the toddler run around the park, excepting him to follow and play with him. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it’s adorable how his son never stays mad at him for long.

it perfectly describes the father-son relationship they have. he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

toji then shoots you a smirk, leaning down so you’re face to face. he flicks your forehead gently and pinches your cheek, reminding you of one thing before going off to chase after megumi;

“i’ll be dealing with ya later for that video y’ made, doll. don’cha think i forgot.”

[whorelaud]

pornstar!rafe fucking staff!reader in the bathroom during filming break  warnings smut, unprotected p in v, bathroom sex, creampies, slight degradation & praise 

Three minutes. The announcement made you clench around Rafe’s cock, chasing after your climax as it builds with each time the latter buckles his hips inside you. Your fingers seeked his shoulders, holding him close while he still thrusts into you, attention fixed on his sweaty figure as it slams onto yours.  

“Hurry, we’re going to get caught.” You warned, throwing your head back when Rafe’s hand cupped one of your tits, taking it in his hold as he rolled your now hardened nipple in between his fingers, admiring the way you squirmed underneath him; rolling your hips up to chase after the fraction. “Rafeeee ‘please.” 

“Such a fucking slut.” He grunted, inserting his fingers in your mouth, a mere attempt of blocking your muffled whines from getting you caught. Don’t get him wrong, he loves hearing you moan his name while he fucks you senseless, the thrill of knowing others could walk in at any given moment, well aware you’d let him continue, desperate to have his cock inside you, however, he wasn't risking it, not when this bond was forbidden, out of the picture. “Look at you, moaning my name like I fuckin’ own you, huh? You’ve been eyeing me this whole time, couldn't wait to have my dick inside you, did you?”

You nod in response, unable to coherent a proper sentence without crumbling in his hold; though his fingers were part of the reason why. You pressed your back to the wall, wrapping your legs firmly around his waist, the gesture causing Rafe to fasten his pace, his thrusts instantly growing sloppy inside you. You would've fully screamed, if not for the digits in your mouth. 

You couldn't believe this was happening, Rafe?

You’ve been working under Rafe’s management for a bit over a year now, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of him, admire from afar in hopes of ever having his cock inside you, knees growing weak each time he’d brush past you, as you later found yourself in your bed, pumping your fingers into your soaked cunt, wishing it was his throbbing cock instead. 

And now, it was finally happening, as Rafe dragged you to the bathroom, giving you no time to process the situation before his cock was pulsing inside you, filling up your insides as your hole swallows his length whole. A whine muffled its way out of your throat, digging your nails into the blade of his shoulders, when you felt your orgasm building up. 

“I’m close.” You announced, breath heaving when Rafe’s hips slammed into you, thumb trailing down to your core, with the intention of finding your clit. He rubbed circles to your nub, smirking when you grew sensitive in his hold. 

“Think you can handle it, hmm?” Rafe questioned, teeth grazing over the lobe of your ear. “Want me to cum inside you and make a mess out of your needy pussy, baby? You' gonna walk out there with my cum inside you?” 

“Rafe please.” You mewled, “Jus’ do it.”

That’s all it took before Rafe was cumming inside you. The latter buckled his hips into your cunt, groaning as your legs trembled in his arms, announcing your orgasm in the process. Your heavy breaths were the only thing heard as you came down from your high, slowly fluttering your eyes open to meet Rafe’s. He was already staring at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips upon seeing your flustered expression. 

“We’re fucked if the director finds out, you know that?” You whispered, shying away from Rafe’s gaze. 

“Oh, I know.” He emphasized on the ‘know’, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re lucky I love your pussy, baby. I’m willing to sacrifice my job for you.” 

“Do you say that to every girl you fuck?” 

[yzzart]

୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: F!reader, 18+, NSFW, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, lovesick & possessive!kenji, reader wearing Ken's shirt, petnames, explicit words, explicit content.

୭˚. ᵎᵎ word count: 990!

Kenji loved it when you wore his t-shirts.

During his matches, among the euphoric, enthusiastic and hopeful stands, joining the wave of the crowd, which had an unusual spirit, he saw you wearing one of the countless t-shirts, which contained his name and number, — shouting for the team and for him — encouraged, even more, Kenji.

And every time you hit successfully and triumphantly, you turned around, pointed to the name written on your back, and shouted "that's my player!" — Oh, Kenji could fall even more in love with you, and he didn't know it was possible.

So, like, he appreciated all the photos the media posted, commented on, mentioned of you together, post-game, and the highlight, in Ken's eyes, was, again, the shirt you were wearing. — Sometimes, it was a shirt, correctly, in your size or one of thousands of his, it didn't matter.

But, nothing, faithfully, could be compared to the immoderate, cunning, contemplation that Kenji experienced when he saw you wearing one of his t-shirts, always when he felt like it, wanting to feel as comfortable as possible. — This was already considered routine. — Out of pure irony and contradiction, when they sounded like unreality, they seemed like they were made for you, he thought.

The huge, made of rich and enhanced tissues, mentioning the values ​​it cost, and formidably showy Kenji T-shirts similar species of dresses on your body; making it fully, fascinating and so captivating. — And, noting comfort, you used only underwear under the dress; it was not even appeared, obviously.

And that, maddeningly, drove Kenji's mind crazy. — Disturbing him, without being able, nor having the opportunity, to concentrate on certain, and reasonable, things in front of his head; without caring about the impolite and indecent looks, after all, he had something better to consider, Sato fixed his eyes on your thighs. — He had his weak point.

And always in the morning, a little disoriented, missing you and, exaggeratedly, tired, with his physical and mental state set back because of the necessary appearance of Ultraman against yet another Kaiju, — upon returning home, he collapsed into your arms and caresses — Kenji found you in the kitchen; preparing something, humming and, softly, serene. — Of course, wearing one of his shirts. — Approaching, with heavy and slow steps, his muscular and vigorous arms snaked around your waist, holding you firmly.

It didn't take you by surprise, clearly, used to his warm welcome; it was clear that the warmth of his affection and comfort was valued. — Also, given the way Kenji needed your touch or, at least, your presence.

Saying "good morning, dear" and waiting to question him about how he slept; in response, the eldest caressed your neck with his nose, inhaling your pleasant and delicious smell, mixed with the fragrance of his perfume, that was stuck to his shirt, and let out a bitter sigh; perhaps, a little libidinous. — No, actually, it was definitely lewd.

Leaving you without an answer, and with a hint of concern, and intending to turn towards him, in an instant, hurriedly, Sato pulled your waist, and reading your thought, turned you around, facing the boy's exposed chest, and he threw you onto his shoulder with ease. — He didn't hear, he ignored, your cry of surprise, and headed towards the bedroom.

And, evidently, today, at this exact moment, it couldn't be any different.

"Holy shit." — Kenji swore, in a mixture of drowsiness and excitement, intoxicated by your scent, something that is deadly addictive. His breathing was rough, dull, so sudden. — "Ah, but you're so cute, aren't you?" — A question asked in a filthy way, with a slutty and breathless laugh, he couldn't help himself. — “My dirty girl, huh?”

Spread out on the bed, between pure silk and white sheets, surrendering yourself, giving in fragility and voluptuousness, deliciously, to your boyfriend; being completely filled by him and feeling insane waves of excitement. — The intense, and so delicious, inversions that you received left you crazy and, satisfactorily, even more, immoral. — And, making it even more interesting, at the same time, without surprises, Kenji's white shirt was on your body.

Buried in your pussy, compromising, bitingly, between the heat and tightness of your walls, which sucked his cock, and causing obscene noises and noises, wet by the room's environment, Kenji left himself thinking that you would be the death of him. — He choked, growled, when he felt another tightness coming from your little hole. — It was so erotic, so carnal, so fucking good.

"K-Ken..ji." — You stammered, you didn't even know how to pronounce his name correctly, and you were so breathless, desperate as you felt him insert his dick into you; cried out to him, pathetically.

"I love it when you wear my clothes." — He traced a line down your neck with his tongue, laughing with lust and sensuality, losing herself in pleasure once again. — "And i love fucking you while wearing them." — He articulated, listening to the wet noises of his heavy balls against your ass, and looking at your face, with a fucked and desired expression, with some tears on your cheek.

Your moans, pleas ran through Kenji's ear, and settled in his mind, equally, with screams, so thin that they seemed like meows, every time his robust cock reached that little spot that only he could and loved to reach; causing your nails to dig into his burly back, scratching him. — His beautiful little girl was still conscious of marking him, Sato laughed at the thought.

Every now and then, Kenji would move away from your neck, and, surprisingly, you would sob when you felt his brief absence, and his eyes, heavy with lust and appetite, would look at the connection between you and, pulling your hips and pushing, again, he had the sinful, and deadly, privilege of seeing your pussy swallowing his cock with pleasure. — Oh, even his eyes closed, sharply and rudely.

Kenji loved it when you wore his t-shirts.

[smileysuh]

daylighter

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, foreplay, fingering, squirting, pussy eating, sadism, breast worship, Eiffel tower, blow job (m receiving), hand job, praise, dirty talk, degradation, power imbalances, dom!Wonwoo, Switch!Gyu, masturbation, sloppy Gyu, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.3k

🍭 aus.  Supernatural au, werewolf!Gyu, Vampire!Wonwoo, 

☀️ mlist + an. And with that, 2024 is complete :) I wanted to end it with a bang, and this pairing has been a staple on my blog for years now. Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year in any capacity, and happy holidays!

Prologue: 

“The ascension is in a year,” the crone sighs, looking out at the room of gathered witches and allies. “I think we all agree that the timing of Seungcheol’s departure is less than ideal, especially now that we’ve narrowed down an ancestral safehouse with adequate warding.”

You frown, and your vampire protector immediately reaches out to hold your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. 

As the future head of your coven, you have a protection detail, and Seungcheol has been an anchor in your life since you were eighteen. It had been a daring attempt at protecting you, after all, alphas like Seungcheol can’t just leave their packs to take on a witch princess as their ward, but Seungcheol had given up a lot to ensure your safety. 

Now, he’s returning to his pack, to his own world, and you’re not quite sure where to go from here.

“There is, however, a replacement,” the crone continues. “A beta by the name of Kim Mingyu. He is, supposedly, a prodigy. He’s the size of an alpha, with domestic attributes that make him uniquely qualified for the assignment of protecting our future leader. Seungcheol offered Mingyu up personally when he found out we would be relocating y/n to a compound. The alpha believed, and I agree with him, that, by having Mingyu on location, it would reduce the need for extra staff to deal with cooking and maintenance. By all accounts, this beta, Mingyu, and our loyal vampire protector, Wonwoo, should be able to look after y/n completely independently, which would lower the risk of demonic attack through spies.”

Wonwoo shifts beside you, and you know the stoic man well enough to understand that small movements like this are a sign of irritation.

While Wonwoo and the wolves who’ve been a part of your protection detail in the past have all had blood ties to you, the vampire has made it clear he’s never been fond of working with ‘dogs.’

But as skilled as Wonwoo is, there’s one thing he simply can’t defeat, and that’s the sun. You’re the most protected witch in the world by night, but by day, you need a different line of defence, and that’s always been the job of wolves.

There was a vampire, once, who took care of a member of your family line during the day. An ancestor of yours had done the impossible, she’d created a ‘Daylighter Potion’ that could enable vampires to walk in the sun. That forbidden knowledge had incurred the wrath of demons. Your ancestor, as well as her daywalking companion, had been lost to a bloody history, and with them, the recipe for this transformation process.

There are still hopes of recreating the Daylighter Potion, but until then, this Kim Mingyu is necessary. You can only pray he’s cut from the same cloth as your exiting alpha.   

One: 

The wards are definitely strong, something Mingyu realizes as he approaches the large compound house he’ll be protecting you in from now on. The location is also super secluded, with the nearest town over an hour away.

If you’re looking to protect someone, this is definitely the place to do it, and when Wonwoo opens the door to the large home, Mingyu realizes immediately that the stoic vampire is as formidable as Seungcheol had made him out to be.

Power oozes off the immortal being, and Mingyu, despite his size, suddenly feels quite small.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, forcing a smile and an extended hand, “I’m Mingyu.”

“You’re late,” Wonwoo responds, pushing the door open and turning to walk away, clearly expecting Mingyu to follow.

“Yeah, I uh, got turned around on the roads. My GPS shit itself.”

Wonwoo remains quiet, and Mingyu hurries to keep up with him. 

“I’ll give you a tour, then you’ll go meet y/n,” Wonwoo sighs, and thus, the exploration of the house begins.

Mingyu does his best to be quiet, to take in the information. Wonwoo seems like the type to only say something once, and Mingyu doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.

Seungcheol had also warned Mingyu about the vampire’s general hatred for werewolves, so Mingyu knows this isn’t a friendship or working relationship that will be earned overnight.

“Can I uh, ask a few questions?” Mingyu enquires as the tour comes close to an end.

“If they’re not stupid.”

Mingyu forces a laugh, but it’s clear from the vampire’s expression that he had been serious, so the chuckle dies down quickly. “Why only two guards?”

“The location is remote enough to be quite secure, as is the warding,” Wonwoo responds smoothly. “Think of this house like the Pentagon, no outside entity has ever breached it.”

“And the demons who are after y/n, it’s because she’s set to be the next crone?”

“In part,” Wonwoo sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “She’s very powerful, and there are certain potions that only she can produce, potions that were lost.”

“What kind of potions?” Witches are known for their tonics, sure, but Mingyu’s never assumed potions to be the most interesting aspect of being a spell caster.

“Old ones,” Wonwoo states, signaling the end of the line of questioning. He begins to walk again, and Mingyu follows, biting his tongue as his mind runs a million miles an hour.

Mingyu can smell the greenhouse solarium before he’s even entered it. The scent of fresh herbs, flowers and general greenery is delightful in comparison to the mustiness of everything else in the old mansion, and Mingyu takes a deep breath as he enters the space.

It’s dark out, but the room is illuminated with fairy lights, their reflections twinkling in all of the windows. It had begun to rain just as Mingyu had pulled up with his truck, and the soft pattering of water on glass is more soothing than the wolf had expected. 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo says, drawing your attention from where you’re seated on a couch, pouring over old books. “This is Mingyu.”

You look up, and Mingyu’s immediately struck by your beauty. The final thing Seungcheol had warned him about was your looks, but his description of you hadn’t done your features justice. There’s a power in your eyes, but a softness in everything else. You’re not some old crone, not by a long shot. 

Mingyu’s alpha had told Mingyu that the vampire guarding you has somewhat of an interest in you, an interest that goes beyond that of protector. Seungcheol had figured that if you, a powerful witch, were going to favour someone, it would be better if it was a wolf than a blood sucker- but even if he hadn’t told Mingyu to get close to you, one look at your lovely smile as you stand to greet him is enough to make Mingyu want to know you better.

“How was the drive?” you ask, pushing your book to the side and stretching.

Your cardigan falls slightly off your shoulder, and God, Mingyu’s eyes take in your newly exposed skin like a man dying of hydration takes in water. He swallows the lump in his throat-

“The dog got lost,” Wonwoo responds before Mingyu gets the chance to.

You laugh. “That happens around here,” you assure him, “you’re definitely not the first.”

“It’s uh, a nice house,” Mingyu offers.

“It belonged to an ancestor,” you say smoothly, “so did these books.”

The werewolf smiles. “Looking for family recipes?” 

“Something like that.” 

Oh, so you’re potentially as secretive as Wonwoo is. What could you possibly be looking for in all these dusty old books that you don’t want to tell him about?

“You must be tired from your drive,” Wonwoo states, turning to Mingyu. “You should go to your room and rest, I’ll take care of y/n now, and when the sun rises, I’ll come get you for your first shift.”

Two: 

You wake up slowly, yawning as you stretch. Your motion knocks a book off your bed and you groan. You’d fallen asleep late in the early morning hours, pouring over books with Wonwoo beside you. Your vampire guard is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a knock on your door and a moment later, Mingyu is poking his head inside.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just dropped a book,” you respond, leaning over your bed to pick up the diary.

“What were you reading?”

“An ancestor’s journal,” you groan, still trying to shake away your morning grogginess. 

“Any hot gossip from the middle ages?” the werewolf jokes with a boyish grin.

“Nothing too interesting,” you grin. “Give me a sec to get dressed, then we’re going to go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“In the forest, I need some mushrooms that aren’t growing in the solarium.”

With a nod, the werewolf goes back to his post outside your door. You take your time getting ready, even going so far as to brush your teeth. Werewolves have sensitive noses, and the last thing you’d want is for some hot beta to smell your morning breath.

Half an hour later, you and Mingyu are walking through the woods.

You’d written a list of various mushrooms and plants you’d need from your readings last night, and Mingyu is holding your basket as the two of you scour the trees and forest floor for potion ingredients.

You notice that Mingyu is quite twitchy. Every sound, every bird flying overhead, draws his eyes.

“We’re quite safe here, you know,” you laugh, thinking his behaviour is adorable.

“Can’t let anything happen to you,” the werewolf muses.

“You sound like Wonwoo.”

“Has he been protecting you for long?”

“Since I was eighteen,” you nod, bending down to collect some moss. 

“You two must be close.”

“We are.” Your relationship with Wonwoo isn’t something you spend a lot of time dwelling on. He’s your guard, and you’re pretty sure that’s all you are to him, a precious witch he needs to protect due to vampire blood pacts.

You care about him, sure, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you’re okay with it being a one sided affection.

“Anyways,” Mingyu sighs, reading your cues and changing the subject, “what potion are you going to make?”

“There are a few I want to try, old things from the texts.”

“Anything interesting?”

“I found a perplexing potion for dog smells, not that I’m saying you smell, but I know Wonwoo always hated Seungcheol’s scent. I figured he might not look so sour whenever you’re around if you smelt better.”

To your surprise, the werewolf laughs. “So you’re making me cologne from moss and mushrooms?”

“Something like that,” you smile.

“Wonwoo was being secretive last night about the potions you make, I figured maybe there was some, I don’t know, super love spell or something crazy that you’d be creating.”

“No super love spells, I don’t believe in those,” you admit. “There are old potions in the texts on the property, things that were lost, for one reason or another. My brewing skills are a little rusty so I figured I’d start with the more mundane recipes before I try anything too extreme.”

“How extreme are we talking?” Mingyu asks. You cast him a sideways glance and he holds up a hand. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a witch before, I don’t know much about what you guys do with those big pots and stuff.”

“Cauldrons,” you correct him, your body relaxing again. You take a deep breath. “Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“I can trust you, right?”

“A hundred percent,” he nods, an ernest expression on his face.

You stand up from your moss patch, moving to set some in Mingyu’s basket. “There’s a specific potion I want to make, and I think the recipe might be somewhere in the old books here.” 

“What kind of potion?”

You take another deep breath, trying to decide how to word your response. “Basically, my line has a strong tie to vampires, and we have this tie, because one of my ancestors made a potion. We call it the Daylighter potion, it enables vampires to walk in the sun.”

Mingyu’s jaw drops as he stares at you.

“Yeah, I know, it feels like fairytale, part of me isn’t sure it’s even a real recipe- but the vampires who swear to protect my family think it was real.”

“Does Wonwoo think it’s real?”

“Yes, it’s one of the reasons he’s protecting me. Could you imagine, being a vampire who could walk in the sun? He would be the most powerful vampire in the world.”

Mingyu frowns. “Is it a good idea? To make him more powerful, I mean.”

You contemplate the question for a moment. “Wonwoo has never been anything but good to me. Sure, there are repercussions for knowledge like the Daylighter potion recipe, I mean, my ancestor who created it went missing and was found dead months later-”

“Did she use it? On a vampire?”

You nod. “By all accounts, she used it on her own protector.”

“And did he… you know, did he kill her?”

You shake your head. “No, he was found dead with her. Besides, when vampires make blood ties to witches, they have a curse set on them, they can’t harm us, directly, or indirectly.”

“Sounds like a powerful curse,” Mingyu frowns. “Do uh… the werewolves that work with you have the same curse?”

“Do you need to be muzzled, Mingyu?” you grin. 

He shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“Good.”

You continue your foraging, and Mingyu is quiet for a while before he begins asking questions again.

“So uh… do you just want to use this Daylighter potion in Wonwoo because he’s your protector, or…”

“Why are you so curious about my relationship with Wonwoo?” you counter. 

He shrugs, but it’s way too nonchalant of a motion to be believable. “No reason.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but decide to let it go. Mingyu may be eluding to things, but it’s his first day here, if he wants to speculate about your connection to Wonwoo, he can guess all he wants. He’ll see how things work around here soon enough. 

Three: 

Wonwoo is exiting his blacked out bedroom the moment the sun has set sufficiently for him to stalk around the old mansion.

He has a one track mind, and the vampire follows his senses to the dining room, where you and Mingyu are sitting to eat dinner.

It takes a moment for Wonwoo to survey the surrounding area. The smell of garlic and ginger is quite potent, and it appears that the wolf has made you some sort of ramen. “Wonwoo!” you grin excitedly, “Mingyu’s an amazing cook, I wish you could try this!”

The wolf’s heart skips a beat, and it irks Wonwoo, who simply scoffs and heads to the kitchen to grab his blood bag. He’s irritated when he’s hungry, and Wonwoo can feel himself calming down as he rejoins you in the dining room.

Wonwoo takes his seat next to you, mindful of the books strewn about. He picks one up, beginning to flip through it. “How was your day?” he asks you.

“It was good,” you respond casually. “We went for a walk, gathered some moss and mushrooms, I’ve got a potion brewing right now that I think you’re going to like.”

Wonwoo casts you a sideways glance, had you found the Daylighter recipe? 

“It’s like werewolf cologne,” Mingyu pipes up from the other side of the table. “Gonna make me not smell so bad.”

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to Mingyu, and he feels irritation bubbling inside of himself again. Logically, it’s clear that the new wolf is trying to be friendly, and he’s taking steps to mask odor- but Wonwoo just can’t find any friendship in his heart for Mingyu.

He gets the sense that you and Mingyu have bonded today, and the way you’re eating up the ramen Mingyu made isn’t doing anything to help settle the uneasy feeling in Wonwoo’s stomach.

Seungcheol’s an alpha, and Wonwoo had respected him. Cheol had come with one goal, and one goal alone, to protect you. As an alpha, he had a whole life to go back to- but this beta, well, Wonwoo’s not too sure about how this ‘protection detail’ might pan out.

It’s clear Mingyu’s attracted to you, Wonwoo had seen it in his eyes the moment he’d met you last night. This little wolf crush is irritating, and Wonwoo hates being irritated.

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to you. It’s unclear to him how you feel about your new day guard. You seem happy to be eating, so any emotions you have toward the werewolf will be skewed due to the joy you’re getting from the ramen.

No, Wonwoo will have to watch the two of you together closely, but, at the moment, he’s more concerned about getting Mingyu out of here so he can enjoy you himself.

“It’s about time you go to bed, wolf,” Wonwoo says.

“It’s still early,” Mingyu argues.

“Sunrise is at six fourty-five,” the vampire counters. “I’m sure you’ve had a long first day. You should rest.”

This time, Wonwoo makes sure to leave no room in his tone for objection, and with a very doglike look of defeat, Mingyu sighs.

“Okay, yeah, I can go to bed.” 

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu lifts up his bowl of ramen, and in two massive, wolfish slurps, he devours the rest of his food.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Mingyu smiles before heading to the kitchen to put away his dishes.

The werewolf lingers for a few minutes, and Wonwoo relaxes when he finally leaves, lumbering up to his second floor bedroom.

“You could have been nicer to him, you know,” you muse, lifting up a book to scan the potion recipe there.

“I could have been,” Wonwoo agrees, leaving it at that.

The two of you rifle through books as you eat your dinner, and then you head to the living room. Your nightly ritual consists of watching movies together, giving you a bit of a break before you go to read before bed.

Wonwoo knows you’ve been wearing yourself thin with all the books you’ve been flipping through. You’d spent the first three days locked in the house and thoroughly examining the library with Wonwoo before Mingyu had shown up, and Wonwoo would be surprised if you’d slept even eight hours in that three day period.

No, you need rest, even if it’s only when sitting next to him on the couch with a movie going.

You fall asleep in no time, and Wonwoo lets you be. He picks up a potions book, flipping through it while the film continues in the background.

Wonwoo won’t let anything hurt you, and he’ll lighten your load in any way he can, even if it means scanning stupid witch recipes. 

Four: 

Mingyu’s been your guard for around a week now, and things are running smoothly, however, you can tell Wonwoo’s still not happy about the situation. It’s midnight and the two of you are in the solarium, you’re getting bored of going through books, so you sigh, setting yours down.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Annoyed,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, not looking up from his book. “I swear I’ve read over fifty different love potions this week, and they’re all just as useless as the last.”

“That’s because love potions don’t work,” you sigh, moving closer to Wonwoo. “Each potion has a different flaw, so each potion is adjusted to make up for that flaw, only to be ruined in some other way. But hey, you know that’s not what I was asking you.”

“You asked how I was feeling.”

“I mean… how are you feeling about this whole Mingyu thing?” 

“I feel,” Wonwoo sighs, “like we better find this Daylighter potion soon, because that werewolf cologne isn’t working as well as we thought it would.”

“Is it just his smell you don’t like?” you ask.

“I don’t like dogs,” Wonwoo states, still not looking at you.

“I know werewolves and vampires don’t get along, but I mean, he’s a nice guy, don’t you think?”

Wonwoo stays silent, an answer in and of itself.

You  groan. “Even if we do find the Daylighter potion, even if I’m able to brew it, you can’t protect me twenty four seven. I think Mingyu is going to be with us longer than anticipated.”

“I can protect you,” Wonwoo declares, finally raising his eyes to meet your own. “When you brew the potion, and I can walk in the sun, I can protect you always.”

“Even vampires need a little rest every now and again,” you sigh. “Besides, is that really what you want? To protect some young witch until she’s an old lady?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shift downward again. “You’re not just some young witch.”

You continue staring at Wonwoo, trying your best to read him. You wonder if maybe he does care for you, if Mingyu’s seeing something you’re not. Why would Wonwoo be so protective of you if he didn’t have some sort of feeling for you? He clearly doesn’t just want the Daylighter potion so he can leave you and go be a powerful vampire elsewhere.

God, he’s so confusing at times.

You let out a breath. “I told Mingyu about the potion.”

“What?”

“The Daylighter potion, I told Mingyu.”

Wonwoo closes his book, and you can tell from his expression that he’s irritated. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Who’s he going to tell?” you retort. “Seungcheol? Even if he did, what would Cheol even do about it?”

“If the wolves ever found out there was a potion to make vampires walk in the sunlight, they’d come destroy this whole house, and they’d kill you too, just for good measure.”

“Seungcheol just spent years protecting me,” you argue. “He would never do that, and besides, Mingyu won’t tell anyone.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“I just am, call it witch’s intuition.” 

To your surprise, Wonwoo actually cracks a smile. He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine,” you echo, picking up your book again to continue reading.

The two of you sit silently as you work, but your mind begins to drift.

In a way, it’s almost as if Wonwoo feels threatened by Mingyu, as if- he’s jealous. There’d never been this aura when Seungcheol was around, but then again, Seungcheol had never been a real threat, even though he was an alpha… maybe, especially because he was an alpha.

You’re attracted to both Wonwoo and Mingyu, but you’ve always pushed that attraction aside with your vampire protector, always convinced yourself he didn’t view you in that light.

Mingyu’s arrival is stirring the cauldron, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. 

Five: 

It’s been almost a month with no issue. Mingyu’s gotten used to everything, used to the constant reading, the constant witchy little foraging adventures. He’s just gotten used to you, and maybe, in someways, Wonwoo as well. 

The werewolf is currently sitting outside your bedroom as you shower in your ensuite. The two of you had been checking wards when it had started to rain, and you’d been shivering so much when you made it back to the house that Mingyu had insisted you heat yourself up.

He does his best not to listen when you’re in the shower, not to be overtly aware- but even with two doors between you, his senses are too strong not to be honed in on everything, especially with a full moon approaching in three days.

You have a bodywash you make, and although the strong pleasant scent of eucalyptus and rosemary is predominant in the air that wafts under the doors, there’s something beneath it too, a smell that Mingyu knows all too well.

He can’t hold it against you though, he’s pretty sure you’re all a little horny from being cooped up like this- well, maybe not Wonwoo, but Mingyu’s definitely been feeling it. The bathroom is the only place you have any real privacy, and lately, Mingyu’s noted that you’ve begun to use the seclusion to your advantage. 

The running water muffles your sounds, but even the world’s best witchy bodywash can’t cover your scent, and Mingyu sits there, doing his best not to gulp it down like a starving animal.

He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, and he does his best to turn his brain off, to calm down- after all, he can’t have you exiting the shower and seeing him hard in his pants.

God, Mingyu had never even considered that horniness would be a problem in a situation like this. 

At least he gets to go to his room every night and do what needs to be done- but you, you have a guard within 10 feet of you at all times.

He wonders if you do this at night, when Wonwoo’s outside your door. And for the first time, Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo’s as tormented by the sexual nature of seclusion as he is. 

It’s not something he’ll be able to ask the vampire, as much as Wonwoo tolerates Mingyu now, that’s a line he won’t cross. 

Six: 

When Mingyu had first come to the house, he’d just finished a full moon cycle. Wonwoo had spent a couple of hours with him while you were sleeping one night, preparing a game plan for the wolf’s ‘time of the month.’

As your night protector, Wonwoo had told Mingyu to go deep into the woods on the night of the full moon. If he was far enough away, the thought was that Mingyu would just stay in the forest, leaving you to your own devices for the night.

Even if Mingyu did make it to the house in his raged-out wolf form, Wonwoo would protect you, and Mingyu had given him permission to do so.

While Mingyu can transform at any time, full moons are the only transformations that are purely animalistic. All Mingyu is, his very soul, practically disappears. Full moons are when werewolves are at their most dangerous, but Wonwoo is confident in his strategies after spending years helping Seungcheol through his dark side.

Cheol had always spent the day after full moons passed out in the woods somewhere, his body recuperating from a mind/body disconnection of that caliber. Once a month, Wonwoo would do a double shift, and you’d spend the day resting with him in blacked-out rooms. 

The two of you get through many books, and when you’re hungry, Wonwoo lets you head down to the kitchen for no more than ten minutes just to grab leftovers. 

It’s a decent set up, and Wonwoo enjoys getting to be with you for a lengthy period. However, the night after the full moon, when you go to sleep, Wonwoo leaves you to head into the forest. Mingyu, like Seungcheol had been, is not hard to find. His scent is overwhelming, and Wonwoo discovers the large man asleep in a bed of moss.

Wonwoo’s no stranger to nudity, not after dealing with Seungcheol, so he simply bends down, lifting Mingyu onto his shoulders.

‘This is just a professional courtesy,’ the vampire tells himself as he takes Mingyu back to the house, gently lowering him into the tub. 

Mingyu’s covered in dirt, and blood too- if his entire being wasn’t tainted by the scent of dog, Wonwoo might actually be tempted to go in for a bite, but the thought of drinking from Mingyu makes Wonwoo’s nose scrunch as he turns on the water.

Wolves can handle heat, and Mingyu groans a little, shifting in the tub. The bathroom begins to fill with steam and Wonwoo finds a wash cloth. He coats the fabric in body wash, and then, with a sigh, Wonwoo begins to wash Mingyu.

The wolf’s arms are especially dirty, so Wonwoo starts with those, and little by little, Mingyu begins to regain consciousness.

Then, all at once, the werewolf is thrashing awake, pulling his arm away from Wonwoo. “What-”

“Relax, you had a particularly bad change last night,” Wonwoo sighs, putting the wash cloth down.

“Were you just…” Mingyu’s confused gaze dips down to the discarded cloth, “washing me?”  

“You smell terrible,” Wonwoo states bluntly. “Seungcheol had a habit of coming home from full moons and just getting into bed. We don’t have staff here, and I refuse to have ruined sheets, or change the laundry schedule.”

There are definitely factual, logical reasons for Wonwoo taking care of Mingyu, and without those reasons, Wonwoo would never dream of bathing a dog. But… Mingyu has been a good addition to your protection detail. He’s substantially more respectful than Seungcheol had been. He’s clean, and he cooks, and the kitchen is always spotless after he makes you meals. 

While Wonwoo respected Seungcheol, the vampire, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, somewhat enjoys the young prodigy wolf.

Wonwoo doesn’t respect the clumsy, gentle giant, not by any means, but perhaps, the vampire is starting to realize, there’s more to judging someone than just by their ability and enthusiasm for violence.

Seven: 

You’re sitting in a field of flowers, and the colors are wonderous. The sun is out, and the dress you’re wearing has the perfect amount of flow to it as you lounge on your picnic blanket. 

You lean back, releasing a deep sigh, and that’s when a hand drags up your arm.

You turn to see your vampire protector and your heart leaps in your chest. “Wonwoo! The sun!”

“The sun doesn’t matter anymore,” he shakes his head. “You cured me, remember?”

“I did?”

“The potion,” Wonwoo grins, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over your throat. “You cured me of my affliction to the sun.”

Confusion is bubbling inside of you, but as Wonwoo begins to kiss your neck, the confusion dies down. Your fingers thread in his hair. “I did cure you,” you muse, giving in to the feeling of him. 

“We found the recipe in the book, at the house.”

“The house,” you murmur. 

“Which house was it again? I can’t remember.”

He doesn’t remember the house? That’s odd. Wonwoo remembers everything-

A distant voice draws your attention. It’s calling your name, and it sounds so familiar-

“Tell me where you are,” Wonwoo urges.

“We’re in a field?”

“Tell me where you are,” the vampire repeats, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing painfully. When you look into his eyes, they’re completely black, and your heart leaps in your chest. Horns grow out of his head, and a moment later, it’s no longer Wonwoo in front of you, it’s a demon.

“Y/N, wake up!” a booming voice tears you away, and suddenly, you’re not in the field anymore. Your eyes snap open and you sit up abruptly, heart still racing in your chest. 

You feel arms wrap around you, and you realize it’s Wonwoo, the real Wonwoo. 

“I had the strangest dream,” you breathe, still trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“It was an incubus,” Wonwoo tells you. “I could sense that he’d entered your mind.”

“He was trying to find out where we are, to see if I’d made the Daylighter potion yet,” you whisper.

“Did you tell him anything?” Your vampire protector freezes next to you.

“No.” You shake your head. “I didn’t say anything.”

You hear someone release a breath, and you look up to find a frazzled Mingyu standing there. His hair is messy from sleep, and he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. “What the fuck is an incubus?”

“Incubi are above your pay grade,” Wonwoo states simply, holding you closer. “Demons don’t generally get involved with lower levels like us, but the Daylighter potion would disrupt their system.”

“Right,” Mingyu nods, but you can tell he doesn’t fully understand. “Anyways, are we good? You’re good?” He approaches you, holding out a hand.

You grab his extended palm, squeezing gently. “I’m okay.”

As your heart stops racing, your body begins to focus on a different feeling.

It had been an incubus in your dream, and incubi feed off of one thing: sexual energy.

You suddenly feel very hot, in bed, between Mingyu and Wonwoo- God, you’d woken up from a nightmare only to find yourself in your best daydream.

Wonwoo stiffens beside you, and Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightens, his pupils visibly blowing in size. 

Can they… sense that you’re horny?

Fuck… can they smell it with their God damned super senses?

You suddenly feel like a bunny caught between two predators, but for some reason, you’re not actually scared. Both men have the capacity for violence, but you know, in your heart of hearts, that they would never, ever hurt you. 

“We should let her sleep,” Wonwoo says, voice low.

He begins to pull away but you cling tighter to him, your grip increasing on Mingyu’s hand too.

“No,” you breathe, swallowing thickly to get rid of the lump in your throat. “I uh… Don’t go.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo warns, “This could end badly.”

“At this point, I don’t care,” you admit. The vampire looks at you for a few seconds, and you can tell he’s trying to get a read on your emotions. You cup his cheek with your free hand. “This is long overdue.”

Wonwoo stares at you, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away, but then, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time. He’s kissing you softly, showing a gentleness that you hadn’t quite expected.

You release a groan immediately, shifting closer-

Mingyu tugs in your hand. “I’ll just leave.”

You break your kiss with Wonwoo, turning to look at the wolf in the room. “Don’t go,” you whimper. “I want both of you.” 

You catch Mingyu’s gaze shifting to Wonwoo uncertainly, and you feel the vampire tense at your side.

“Both of us?” Wonwoo asks, voice shockingly level considering what you’d just suggested.

“Both,” you repeat, nodding. “I just- I don’t know, you’re both my protectors. I feel like, if I only slept with one of you, it would throw off the dynamic.”

“So you want us both… for the dynamic?” Wonwoo clarifies.

“That sounds horrible,” you groan. “I’m still sleepy- look, I’m attracted to both of you, I care about you both in different ways. Please don’t make me choose.”

You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo exchange a look again, but this time Wonwoo sighs and Mingyu shrugs.

“I won’t step on your toes,” Mingyu promises, addressing the vampire.

Wonwoo releases another exasperated breath. “If anyone knew I was agreeing to share a bed with a dog-”

“He’s a werewolf, don’t be rude,” you chastize, nudging Wonwoo in the ribs.

“Dude, you’ve already seen me naked,” Mingyu points out, and your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

“What?”

“He carried me in the other night, after the full moon. I woke up in the bath and he was practically grooming me.”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo in shock and he downplays it with a shrug. “I told you, I don’t like dirt on the sheets.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re about to make a mess of this bedding,” Mingyu says, voice lowering as he steps closer. 

“I don’t care,” you breathe. “Enough talk.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Mingyu grins, leaning down and grabbing your jaw. He brings his lips to yours and you immediately groan, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He’s so warm and big, there’s a muskiness to his scent, but it doesn’t remind you of dog. It reminds you of the forest, of sanctuary, and it makes you lean in even more as Mingyu kisses your breath away.

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his hands fanning up and down your arms, then, you feel a second set of lips on your shoulder.

Your sleeping shirt has shifted down a little, allowing Wonwoo to have full access to your skin. Each cold kiss is a contrast to Mingyu’s warmth, and it makes you shiver between your two large protectors.

It seems Wonwoo’s the one with less patience out of the two men, which is something you’re not expecting as he grabs the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it off your body.

You’d not been wearing a bra to bed, and your nipples pebble at the cool air of the room when they’re newly exposed. You groan when two hands grab your breasts, one hot, one cold. It seems both men have a thing for tits, and you can’t say you’re mad about it as they begin to massage you, drawing even more sounds of pleasure from your lips.

It’s Wonwoo who pinches your nipple first and you gasp against Mingyu’s mouth, breaking the kiss to turn and look at Wonwoo over your shoulder. He kisses you deeply, his free hand grabbing the back of your head to draw you close.

You get so lost in Wonwoo that you don’t realize Mingyu has adjusted until wet, hot lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You whimper loudly, pulling away from Wonwoo to look down at Mingyu. His eyes are closed and he groans as he begins to suck diligently on your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at you in a way you’ve never quite experienced. 

“Shit,” you moan, threading your fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

“I’m getting tired of his smell,” Wonwoo sighs beside you. “I know a way to cover it up.”

Mingyu pulls off your nipple, confusion written on his face.

“You both trust me, right?” the vampire asks, looking between you and the wolf.

“Yes?” you offer, not sure what else to say.

“Y/N, lay on the edge of the bed, Mingyu you’re on the ground below,” Wonwoo instructs.

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, but he shrugs, following through. Wonwoo helps you to the edge of the bed, adjusting so he’s behind you, your smaller body between his legs, ensnared.

“Take her shorts off,” Wonwoo instructs, and Mingyu’s even quicker to follow through with that command than the first.

You release a shuddery breath as your silky shorts are dragged down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to the two men.

Wonwoo’s hand wraps around your body, his fingers seeking out your clit.

You groan as he begins to stroke the sensitive bud, his lips tracing kisses along your throat. “Be good for us,” Wonwoo warns, his digits easily pushing into your wet core.

You whimper, shifting in his embrace. Wonwoo’s free hand braces across your chest, grabbing your breast and pinching at your nipple.

A quiver shakes through your thighs, and when you look down at Mingyu, you find him watching each movement with extreme interest.

Two of Wonwoo’s fingers begin to work open your pussy, and he begins to crook them up toward your gspot, making your legs shake even more.

“Have you ever squirted before?” Wonwoo asks, breath hot along your ear.

It feels so odd to be hearing him speak to you in this context, but at the same time, it feels so right. 

“I’ve never-” you shake your head, swallowing thickly as your words get caught in your throat.

“Good, then we’ll be your first,” Wonwoo smirks against your neck. “You’ll feel pressure, don’t try to fight it, just let your body do what it’s going to do, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod. 

Wonwoo presses one more kiss to your shoulder before his hand begins to move again. He expertly thrusts his fingers up to that special spot, and within seconds you can hear the wetness of your pussy with each movement. 

Mingyu gets closer, and he’s on his knees now. He’s looking between your pussy, your breasts and your face, as if he can’t quite decide what to focus on.

“Gonna squirt on your wolf, make him smell like you, mark him the way wolves usually mark their mates,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice low in your ear.

You whimper at his words, skin beginning to tingle as pleasure unlike anything else builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“Rub your clit for me,” Wonwoo commands next. “I think you’re just about ready for it.”

Your hand is shaking as you bring it between your thighs, gently drawing circles on your sensitive bud as Wonwoo continues to work your pussy, his motions getting even faster, and harder-

You groan desperately, throwing your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder as a powerful release overtakes you. It’s like a pressure on your abdomen, but it’s so delightful at the same time, your body overwhelmed by it all.

You can’t open your eyes, can’t do anything but rub your clit as Wonwoo makes you feel something you’ve never felt.

You’re aware of a wetness between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Wonwoo continues to work the pleasure out of you.

Finally, he’s tearing his fingers out of you, only to land a gentle smack to your pussy that has you yelping and shaking.

The moment his hand is gone, it’s replaced with a mouth, and your entire body jolts, eyes snapping open to see Mingyu between your thighs. He grabs at you, keeping you steady as his tongue pushes into your tight pussy, lapping at the walls that Wonwoo had just ravaged with his fingers.

The werewolf sucks your clit into his mouth and your body shakes, chest heaving-

Squirting hadn’t felt like an orgasm per se, it had been an entirely unique experience. It was pleasurable, and amazing, but the build up hadn’t been like that of a vibrator or the like- but what Mingyu’s doing to you is familiar. You can feel the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach as he ravages your pussy.

You love how messy he’s being, how sloppy- his tongue is everywhere, in the best possible way.

“Gyu-” you whimper, reaching one hand down to tangle in his hair. You don’t want him to move, don’t want him to go anywhere- your muscles are already tensing in anticipation of the orgasm he’s going to give you, and you’ll be damned if you miss out on it.

“He feels good?” Wonwoo asks in your ear. 

“So good.”

“I’ll give it to the wolf, he knows how to eat.”

There’s something about the deepness of Wonwoo’s voice, the sinful context of what he’s saying- it’s the last straw you need to fall over the edge. Your muscles tense incredibly tight before snapping, pleasure flowing through you like a river.

“Fuck!” you whimper, beginning to thrash- only for both men to hold you down. It’s clear they’re not going to let you run away from the feeling, and they keep you where they want you while Mingyu eats you through your high.

Your entire body is on fire with the pleasure, and you can feel it in every fiber of your being. It’s all consuming, in the best way.

You’re crying by the time Mingyu releases you, pulling away from your pussy. He stares up at you with dark eyes, and when he stands, you notice your squirt dripping down his chest. He’s covered in you, in your scent, and you realize why Wonwoo had wanted foreplay to be like this. Now, all either of them will smell is you, and you think they prefer it this way.

“How are we going to do this?” Mingyu asks, voice gruff, his cock straining against his boxers.

“We’ll take turns,” Wonwoo says factually, beginning to massage your breasts again. “As much as I think we’d all enjoy double penetration, I don’t want to break her. That’s something we’ll have to work up to.”

Mingyu nods. “Turns.”

“I’ll go first,” Wonwoo sighs, kissing your throat. “I’m not as into a mess as you are.”

Mingyu groans, but he doesn’t fight it.

“Because you’re both being good,” the vampire continues, “y/n, you can straddle Mingyu and I’ll fuck you from behind while you both toy with each other.”

“Please be fast,” Mingyu begs, “I don’t know how much I can hold off.”

“You’ll have to,” Wonwoo counters. “Only good dogs get treats.”

An expression blooms across the werewolf features, it’s a mix of lust, annoyance and confusion. You can tell he’s turned on by what Wonwoo just said, but there’s a lack of connection between the feeling, and the logistics that are probably running through Mingyu’s mind.

Unlocking new kinks is always confusing, but that’s not something you dwell on as you becon Mingyu to get onto the bed.

He lays down and you’re quick to grab his boxers, dragging them down in record speed.

Fuck, Mingyu’s huge- it makes you drool. “I want to suck him off,” you whimper.

Mingyu groans deeply. “Fuck.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Wonwoo coos as you get into position, on your knees, looking down at Mingyu’s massive cock. 

You grab the base, pumping it gently and looking up at Mingyu, who shifts desperately against the sheets.

He grabs the blanket, and you can tell he’s already close- you kind of love having this power over him. If the act of eating you out is enough to make him close to exploding- well, you wonder what sucking him off will do.

Two hands smooth across your ass, and then you feel Wonwoo’s cock swiping between your pussy lips. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Can you… can you put it in your mouth?”

“You better not cum down her throat without asking permission first,” Wonwoo warns.

“I won’t, fuck, I won’t,” Mingyu whimpers, guiding you gently to his cock.

You lick at the head of it first, getting a better gauge for his size.

Mingyu shakes beneath you, hips twitching. You can sense he’s at war with himself, part of him clearly wants to apply pressure to your head and force you to take him, but another part is trying to be respectful of you. You wonder if this clash between animalistic and human sides is a result of the recent full moon-

Wonwoo’s cock slips into your wet core and you groan deeply, sinking more of your mouth onto Mingyu, who echoes your sound of pleasure.

You begin to suck on the werewolf’s tip as Wonwoo starts to slowly thrust into you, giving you more and more of his cock until he’s flush to your ass.

“That’s it,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing your hips. “Taking us both so good.”

The praise makes your entire body vibrate with energy, and you moan around Mingyu’s cock, sucking him deeper into your mouth until he’s practically hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu is straining now and you can feel it.

“Almost looks like boytoy is going to pop before he even gets a chance at your pussy,” Wonwoo chuckles.

“No!” Mingyu blurts, “I’ll be good, just, fuck, hurry up!”

Wonwoo might not be the nicest in bed, but you are, and you pull off Mingyu’s cock, stroking it. “Take some breaths,” you tell him, resting your cheek against his thigh.

Mingyu begins to take audible gasps as he focuses on slowing himself down. You stroke him languidly, taking your time as Wonwoo’s pace increases behind you.

“You’re too nice to him,” Wonwoo groans, gripping your hips harder as he rails into you.

“Fuck, one of us has to be,” you whimper, closing your eyes so you can focus on the pleasure that’s beginning to surge through you.

“This isn’t good cop bad cop,” Wonwoo points out.

“True, but I’m also not a sadistic dom like you are,” you fire back with a moan.

You hear Wonwoo chuckle. “I guess that’s true.”

He adjusts slightly, and now, each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you. “Kind of want you to cum again,” Wonwoo admits. “Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t-”

“Three times isn’t that bad,” Wonwoo points out. “Besides, Mingyu’s going to pop the moment he’s inside of you, so it’s not like he’ll make you cum.”

That’s a very good point, you realize, and you slip your hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit.

Your pussy clenches tight around Wonwoo from the stimulus and you both groan. 

“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes. “Squeezing me so well.”

Mingyu groans above you, Wonwoo’s dirty talk doing as much to turn him on as you.

“Rub harder,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told, whimpering from how good it feels. “Mingyu, tell her how good she is, the sooner she cums, the sooner you cum.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good!” Mingyu blurts out immediately. “Your mouth, your hand- fuck, I can’t imagine how your pussy is going to feel, oh my god-”

His hand flexes in the bed sheets and Wonwoo chuckles.

“Cum for us, please, I need to feel you,” Mingyu begs desperately. 

Your core is throbbing from his words, throbbing from how well Wonwoo is fucking you.

“She’s close,” the vampire muses. “Her perfect pussy is just sucking me right back in.”

Mingyu lets out a strangled sound, and the noise is enough to throw you over the edge.

Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

Your core clamps down on Wonwoo’s cock, squeezing him desperately as your orgasm overcomes you.

Your hand motion on Mingyu’s cock stops, body too overcome by the feeling of cumming to pay attention to anything else.

Moans and whimpers escape you, your eyes clenched shut as waves of pleasure surge through your body. Wonwoo fucks you through it, and then he releases a small gasp, his thrusts coming to a stop. You can feel his cum filling you up as he gives three more shallow efforts of movement.

You’re both breathing hard, and before you can even fully recuperate, Mingyu’s tugging at you. “My turn,” he says desperately.

Wonwoo laughs, and you can only whimper as one cock pulls out of you. Mingyu is quick to drag you up his body, and then, his own length is entering your core, stretching out your pussy unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

You moan desperately, burying your face against Mingyu’s throat. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to fuck up into you. “Fuck, so good, shit-”

He’s definitely not going to last long, so you do your best to focus on how good he feels. You can’t even bring yourself to care that his chest is sticky and covered in your squirt, in fact, the sinful aspect kind of turns you on even more.

Your core is still throbbing from your orgasm with Wonwoo, and each time your pussy contracts around the new, large intrusion, Mingyu gasps. His breath is hot against your throat, arms strong around your body as he holds you, fucking up into you like a wild man.

“Shit, shit, shit-”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, nuzzling against his jaw. “You’ve been a good boy, let go.”

Mingyu releases a strangled sound, and then he’s squeezing you tight, filling your pussy completely as he cums deep inside of you.

It feels good in his embrace. You’re not being crushed, instead, it feels like a protective weighted blanket, and he’s so warm too- God, you could fall asleep right like this, right now, his massive cock still buried to the hilt in your wet, throbbing pussy.

Mingyu’s heart is racing in his chest, and you’re both breathing heavily, but slowly he releases you.

“Take her to the shower, I’ll clean this all up,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you out of your daze.

“Can’t we just sleep?” Mingyu groans.

“You werewolves and the most unclean people I’ve ever met,” Wonwoo snaps, and you feel Mingyu sink beneath you, dejected.

“Come on, Gyu, a shower would be nice,” you encourage him, pressing kisses against his throat.

“Okay,” Mingyu sighs.

He stands a moment later, cradling you in his arms as he takes you to the bathroom. The two of you begin to wash each other, careful of all the cum. He’s so soft with you, so gentle, and you’ve never been this relaxed.

When you’re both clean, you go back to your room, collapsing onto your bed. Wonwoo sits on one side of you, Mingyu on the other. The werewolf tugs you to his chest, being your big spoon while your hand is in Wonwoo’s lap.

“Sleep with us,” you urge him.

“I can’t, but you two should get some rest,” Wonwoo sighs.

You’re so exhausted you can’t even find it within yourself to argue, and moments later, you’re falling asleep, basking in the warmth of the man behind you, and the comfort of your vampire protector watching guard. 

Eight: 

Wonwoo’s thoughts are turbulent as you and Mingyu sleep next to him. The sex had been amazing, and shockingly enough, Wonwoo hadn’t quite minded having the werewolf there. It’s clear that Mingyu is good for you, and at the end of the day, your wellbeing trumps Wonwoo’s own possessive tendencies.

He’s not one to dwell on things, so Wonwoo reaches for the ancestral diary on your bedside table. It’s not a recipe or spell book, so you’ve not spent a lot of time going through it, but Wonwoo just need something to distract himself. 

It’s only hours later when Wonwoo comes across a specific passage that makes him stop. It’s the first mention of the Daylighter potion he’s seen anywhere, and he continues to read, eager for the recipe.

‘The potion was supposed to cure sun affliction, and it did, but the concoction did more than that. It cured the vampirism as a whole. My protector, my guardian, now but a man. Powerless as a babe, but as fierce as he’s ever been. No other vampire would want this, so I’ve torn out the page with the ingredients. This potion, perhaps, is best left in history. No one should have the power to cure vampirism, least of all the witches. This could shift the tides in a war that’s been lasting centuries. The witches should not have this power, nor should the wolves or the demons. No one should have this power. The Daylighter potion was a success, but it was also the worst thing I’ve ever created. May the Goddess forgive me for this abuse of power.’

Wonwoo rereads the passage five times before he puts the book aside, trying to steady himself.

This whole time- they’d assumed the potion would cure a vampire’s weakness to sun. No one ever considered that the Daylighter potion might cure vampirism all together.

Wonwoo had wanted the potion so he could protect you day or night, but how could he protect you if he was a mortal?

If he was a mortal… if he was like you and Mingyu, could he grow old with you?

But… what use would growing old with you be if he could never keep you safe?

Wonwoo’s overcome with emotion as he stares down at you and Mingyu.

This was never an outcome he’d expected, and he’s not sure how you’ll react. 

The vampire decides not to tell you about this information. He decides to simply be there for you as long as you want him. He decides to let you sleep, unburdened by the discovery he’s just made. And finally, Wonwoo decides that you are more important than him being a Daylighter. He’ll choose the eternal night with you over the sunshine, and it’s his own choice to make.

Wonwoo doesn’t know who he is if he’s not your protector, so he decides that’s exactly what he’ll continue to be.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love working on fics that center on these two, and It was so fun to write their dynamic :) Thanks again for supporting me this year, and I can't wait to see you guys in 2025!

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🔮 preview. You’ve learned new spells and potions, but your education in a more sexual nature has grown too. Being with two men has its own learning curve, and you’ve been a more than willing student.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, oral, pussy eating, spanking, praise, dirty talk, degradation, mentions of porn, threesome, pussy stretching, breast worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, etc…  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 120

🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been four months of living in a house full of books, but it’s been two months since Wonwoo revealed to you the truth about the Daylighter potion. 

It has been hard to accept at first, and many night had been spent discussing it with Wonwoo. Your vampire protector has stood firm on his opinions, and you’ve had to accept the fact that he wants to continue to be immortal, not only for you, but for himself.

Wonwoo isn’t the oldest vampire ever, but he’s by no means the youngest either. You can’t really imagine him going back to a human form, to lose his strength and speed- no, he’ll continue to be a vampire, and the Daylighter potion has been pushed aside, no longer a priority.

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[seumyo]

a softie for sentimentality, bakugou katsuki.

Bakugou wears a bracelet. You’ve known about it for as long as you could remember, but only decided to acknowledge it now that you’re in your third year at UA, two weeks before graduation.

It wasn’t flashy or adorned with any kind of logo—just a simple, sturdy piece of metal with a stainless clasp that he seemed to wear all the time. You tilted your head as you studied it.

“You’ve had that bracelet for as long as I can remember,” you said, sitting down on his study chair. It’s a privilege to even set foot inside of his room without immediately being told (yelled) off, really.

Bakugou looked up from his book and glanced at you. “Yeah, and?”

“Is there, like, a story behind it?”

“No story,” he said with a shrug, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“Really? That’s so bland. I thought there’d be like a gut-wrenching or life-changing story for it.”

He sat up from his bed with a huff, his eyes narrowing at you. “It’s just somethin’ I wear. What’s it to you?”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smile on your lips. “Alright, Mr. Mysterious. Keep your secrets.”

“Fuck off, dipshit.”

“Again with that! Why can’t you be nicer now that we’re graduating?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

-

But the conversation stuck to you.

It’s the day of graduation when you presented him with a small, handmade box. It was simple, made of sturdy cardboard decorated with his signature colors and an orange ribbon to match. Bakugou rose a brow.

“What’s this for?” He asks, holding it up like the box might explode at any given moment, though there was no bite to it.

“A box.”

“No shit,” he scoffs, “what’s in it?”

“Open it to find out!” You egged him on.

Bakugou sighs, opening the box with a focused pout. He went quiet when he saw what was inside.

“Ta-da! A bracelet,” you said, smiling. “For you. Thought you could use something new to switch things up.”

He held the stringed bracelet in his hand, looking at the material as if it would erupt in flames if he glared hard enough. It was a stark contrast to his metal one—brightly colored warm complementary beads with little charms that somehow still managed to feel like him. There was a red charm shaped like an explosion, a black bead with a skull design, and a small silver charm with an engraved kanji for “strength.”

“I’m not wearing this,” he said flatly.

It’s like your cartoonish heart balloon had suddenly been popped with a prickly needle.

“What? Why not? It’s cool!” you argued. “I even made it myself to really match you!”

“It’s not my style.”

“Sure it is. Look, it’s got black, silver, and even a little red—it screams Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I didn’t get you anythin’ as a parting gift,” he tells you.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just thought this’ll go with your metal bracelet.”

He nodded, though there was a somewhat frustrated pout on his expression, muttering something under his breath a soft “thanks,” and placed the gift back in the box, never actually letting you see him wearing it during that moment.

-

Years later, during a photoshoot for the yearly hero gala, Bakugou stood in front of the camera in his full Dynamight suit. The photographer adjusted the lights, snapping rapid shots as Bakugou struck his signature confident poses.

“Hold still,” the stylist said, adjusting his gauntlet slightly. Her eyes flicked to his wrist, and she paused. “Oh, that’s cute. Is that handmade?”

Bakugou blinked, following her gaze. Wrapped around his wrist, right next to his ever-present metal bracelet, was the colorful string bracelet you had made him all those years ago.

He stiffened slightly, but instead of taking it off, he shrugged. “Yeah. What about it?”

The stylist smiled warmly. “It’s a nice touch. Makes you seem... approachable. And quite frankly, it matches your suit.”

Bakugou snorted. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

-

When the photos surfaced online, fans quickly noticed the bracelet. Social media practically exploded that day.

Is Dynamight wearing a friendship bracelet??

A HANDMADE BRACELET ON DYNAMIGHT??

Guys, he’s worn this thing for YEARS. Check the old pictures! 🙂‍↔️

You, of course, caught wind of the news—because honestly, who wouldn’t when it took all social media platforms by storm? You saw the posts one evening while scrolling through your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the photos. It was unmistakable—the bracelet you had made all those years ago.

Long after your UA days were behind you and your lives had taken you and Bakugou down different paths, the all-too-familiar bracelet made you smile sadly—more nostalgic happiness than actual sadness, really.

You stared at the screen, sighing quietly. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken, to the unspoken decision that had pulled you in different directions. You never thought something as small as a bracelet would still mean anything to him.

You didn’t even think you’d live to see the day he wears it, much less keep it after the years.

But there it was, bright and unapologetic on his wrist, a subtle reminder of a bond that hadn’t completely faded with time.

Somewhere across the city, Bakugou stood on a rooftop, the evening wind tugging at his hero uniform. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, running his thumb over the frayed edges of the string. He smirked to himself, a quiet acknowledgment of the past and the person who’d given it to him.

“Guess you were right,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It does scream Bakugou Katsuki.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[mywhisperingwords]

a touch that never hurts | fred g. weasley

summary: you seem to have fallen for your best friend, which you could handle if only he didn’t constantly touch you word count: 3.2k masterlist

It was official: you were stupid.

Only a complete idiot would fall for their best mate and here you’ve gone and done it. Because there was no other explanation for this feeling in your stomach as you looked across the Great Hall and watched Fred Weasley tell some stupid joke to his friends and wishing nothing more than to be the one he told the joke to.

He wasn’t even supposed to be here; just earlier today, Snape had given him detention.

While working on the assigned potion, he decided to mix things up to make you laugh after your bad day.

Before class started Snape decided to ruin the day and give everyone’s essays back. You flunked. Hard. After a big explosion and an awful lecture from Snape, any of Fred’s afternoon plans were ruined. For you.

You stood there, frozen in shock, trying to figure out how to go on with your life from here.

But how could you? This realization felt like the worst thing that’s ever happened to you—right after becoming friends with Fred Weasley himself.

You must’ve stood frozen in place for too long because he caught your eye and was now waving you over with his typical charming smile while the people around him were continuing their conversation, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. You briefly considered turning around and running away, but you decided against it. That would make this situation even more awkward than it already was.

Taking a deep breath and mustering a wobbly smile, you made your way over to the Gryffindor table. You exchanged greetings with your friends and headed toward a seat, hoping to get as far away from Fred as you could. But, of course, Fred had other plans. With a grin, he shoved Lee aside and proudly declared the seat next to him as free.

Bloody hell, he was making it hard for you. It’s as if he knew and wanted to torture you now that you had finally realized your true feelings. Feelings that didn’t actually exist; denial was your new best friend.

With no other choice, other than making this one hell of an uncomfortable situation for everyone, you reluctantly sat down next to him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.

But to no avail. As soon as you sat down Fred swung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “Thank Merlin you’re here. Could you be a darling and tell our idiotic friends that Snape does in fact secretly love me and that is the only reason he so often chooses to see me after class?”

‘Darling’ and ‘secretly loves me’, seemed to be the only thing your brain registered, not to mention that arm still wrapped around you. Has he always been this physically affectionate with you? It was hard to remember because Fred was looking at you expectantly as if he were waiting for something and…

Finally, your brain catches up, “Oh, that my dear Fred, is what we call detention. And wouldn't you know it, you're supposed to be there... like right now!" You playfully glanced at your imaginary wristwatch.

You could practically see the second he realized you were right. In a hurry, he jumped up from his seat and snatched the last food from his plate. But there was something important he seemed to have forgotten.

With a grin, you asked him, "Aren't you forgetting something?" Confusion washed over his face as he turned back to the table, searching for what he had missed, not finding anything. After a brief moment, he leaned down and surprised you with a kiss on your cheek. Speechless and mouth agape, you watched as the rest of the table erupted in snickers.

"You git!" you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks burn. "I meant your wand!"

Instead of being flustered like you, Fred found the whole situation hilarious. He joined in laughter with his friends and sent you a playful wink. With a glint in his eye, he swiftly retrieved his wand and innocently exclaimed, "Oops!" before making a speedy exit from the Great Hall.

Still trying to process what just happened, you turned to your friends, hoping they could provide the distraction and peace of mind you desperately needed.

Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, George decided to torture you. With a grin, he leaned in and asked if you've figured it out yet. Your whole body tensed up, and you found yourself desperately wishing for an escape.

In your horrified state, you managed to stammer out a weak, "W-What?" The anticipation of his response hung heavy in the air, and you braced yourself for the worst.

George burst into laughter, which echoed through the Great Hall, making everything feel ten times worse. You couldn’t help but feel exposed, as if your deepest secrets were on display for everyone to see.

Through his laughter, George managed to squeeze out, "Bloody hell. Looks like someone forgot the essay for McGonagall that's due tomorrow."

You breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that he had no idea. How could he? You yourself just figured it out. And you’d do anything to keep it that way. You won’t tell a soul about any of it and just pretend that things were normal.

✧

How naive could you be? How in your right mind could you ever think that keeping this from Fred was a possibility?

He knew you better than you knew yourself.

No matter how hard you tried to keep things like always it just wouldn’t go your way. First everything was completely normal, nothing out of the ordinary. You two would banter and share jokes. But as soon as he touched you in any way you panicked and run away from him.

You hadn’t realized how often he reached for you. It apparently had become like second nature for him.

At first you noticed the small touches, like accidentally bumping shoulders while walking together or him gently tapping your arm to get your attention.

But it was the larger gestures that pushed you to your breaking point, stirring up your traitorous heart even more. Like when he reached out and grabbed your hand in the bustling crowd of students during a visit to Hogsmead.

But the absolute worst was when he would slide in next to you, casually drape his arm around your shoulder and pull you close, all while effortlessly engaging in conversation with someone else. And what made it even more unbearable was that no one seemed to bat an eye. It was as if this physical closeness was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, that no one remembered to inform you about.

But as much as you tried to subtly keep your distance you could tell that Fred knew something was wrong. He saw it in the way you would purposefully choose to sit the furthest away from him even when the seat next to him was unoccupied.

You saw the confusion in his eyes when you started to avoid going to Hogsmead with the excuse of finishing your school work. He knew that this was never something that stopped you from spending time with him or your friends.

Since that first year you met Fred on the train, he’d been a constant presence in your life. You stumbled upon Fred and George pulling a prank on their older brother Percy. Instead of telling on them, you decided to join in on the mischief. As a result, Percy ended up with boils all over his face. From that moment on, you and Fred became inseparable. So, when you suddenly started pulling away without any explanation, it felt like the most awful thing you could do to him.

And you could tell that it was hurting Fred too. He wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve; in fact, quite the opposite. But after all the years you've known him, you were priding yourself on understanding him better than most people in his life. He would never outright admit it, but your actions were causing him pain.

He would extend his hand, reach out, but as soon as he noticed that you turned away from him, he would pull back. In that fleeting moment, you could see the hurt and confusion reflected in his eyes, mirroring the hurt you were experiencing.

He even attempted to talk about it once. Normally, he would rely on laughter to uplift your spirits rather than delve into the realm of emotions. So when he approached you before your class, specifically to ask if you were okay, it created an awkward conversation for the both of you. All you could do was promise him, that if anything was wrong, you’d tell him.

What a lie.

His genuine concern shattered your heart. But it wasn't just him who could sense that something was off. You noticed how your friends would exchange worried glances every time you came up with a new excuse to avoid spending time with Fred.

Being around him became an unbearable risk, fearing that he might somehow discover your true feelings for him. It wasn’t just a simple crush; your feelings ran deeper, more intense.

Every time you witnessed his infectious laughter or his ability to light up the entire room with his jokes, a swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, consuming you from within. The guilt of keeping such a significant secret from him and the rest of your friends gnawed at you. But the thought of confessing your feelings and potentially jeopardizing everything held you back.

It has gotten to the point where you chose to spend your free time in the library. You knew that he would never step foot inside of it. So this place became your sanctuary.

But you should’ve known better. Fred Weasley may not be an overly emotional person but he was stubborn to no end.

One night after dinner, that ended with you leaving the table as soon as possible and an excuse, truthful this time, to do your unfinished homework you returned to the only place that felt safe from Fred.

There were only a few students left in the library. You grabbed your Charms Book and settled into a quiet corner, hoping to review your homework for Professor Flitwick.

But your silence was soon disturbed by the one person you wanted to avoid. Which was not entirely true.

The situation hurt, but you couldn’t help wanting to see him — even if only from afar.

Fred appeared to be searching for you because the moment your eyes met, he marched over to where you were sitting.

"Back to doing homework, huh?" he asked, glancing at your table.

"Actually, yes," you replied honestly.

“Oi, sod off. I know you mostly just sit here doing nothing — Lee saw you, you know?” he said.

“I don’t know what Lee thinks he saw but that’s not the truth. This is a library. I study,” you argued.

“Listen, I know you’ve been avoiding me. And I have no idea what I could’ve done. You’ve been blowing me off left and right. You’re being pretty obvious and I think it’s time we had this discussion.”

You stared at him, eyes wide open. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you, everything is fine.”

“Come off it! We’ve been friends for years and I know when something’s off. You’ve been avoiding me and you have been for weeks. I’m done pretending like I don’t know that. And things aren’t fine since you won’t tell me what it is. What’s this really about?” his voice was low, but you could feel his anger seeping through.

But you couldn’t tell him; too much was at stake. You’d lose your best friend. Even the thought alone was too much to bear.

“Fred, please. I just… I can’t explain it to you,” you pleaded.

“Why the hell not? I’m your friend!” You appreciated his concern, but his persistence was becoming overwhelming. “If everything truly was fine you wouldn’t be hiding here all the time! What’s going on?” he demanded, clearly just wanting answers, answers you couldn’t give him.

“I really can’t tell you. Please, I’m begging you, let it go.” Keeping this from him was killing you. You felt awful holding this secret from him. Deep inside you entertained the notion that he felt the same, but doubts held you back. It was pain-filled hiding something so important from a person that meant so much to you. You wished that he felt the same way, but fear gripped you tight.

Fred's anger was palpable, evident from the fury etched on his face. Madam Pince was shooting both of you disapproving glances. You secretly hoped that she would kick you out, giving you an excuse to escape this conversation.

“No, I’m not giving up. I deserve answers and I’m not leaving until I get them, understood?” He defiantly took a seat right in front of you.

You remained silent, refusing to speak another word. The more he pushed, the harder it became to keep this from him.

“I’ve got all night. Nowhere else to be,” he stated, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. Still refusing to speak, you turned your attention back to your essay, hoping he would eventually relent.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. His voice now calm and his expression blank. No trace of anger or irritation. It almost seemed like he had come to accept the situation.

“Maybe this is for the best. You clearly don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll guess I won’t bother you anymore,” he said in a monotone voice, before he abruptly stood up and started to walk away, not looking back once.

Hot panic was surging through your veins and in an instant you jumped up, to go after him. Realizing that you were about to lose him either way, you took a chance.

“I like you!” The words echoed through the quiet library, their volume seemingly too loud for the stillness around you. He paused in his tracks, but didn't turn around. Unable to see his reaction, you continued, thinking maybe it was better this way, shielded from the potential disgust his face might reveal.

"I like you, and I'm really sorry, okay? I just need some time to sort things out and get over these feelings. I promise, but right now, I can't be around you. Not right now. That's why I've been avoiding you. Please, please don't hate me," with every word, your desperation spilled out, raw and unfiltered, while your eyes began to burn.

As Fred slowly turned around, his expression was unreadable, and it felt like everything was falling apart. Immediate regret was filling you up. Maybe, if you would’ve stayed silent and kept on ignoring what was going on inside of you, there would have been a chance to mend the friendship later on. But now, it felt like it might be too late.

“You like me?” he asked, his voice filled with bewilderment.

“Please, don’t make me say it again,” you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

His expression slowly transformed into a wide smile, "You're not kidding. You actually like me?"

Confused and feeling a sense of panic, you asked, "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Fred's grin widened, making him look like a complete idiot, "I can't control it. You've just made me the happiest person in the world. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hoping to hear those words?"

Silence filled the air. Your heart skipped a beat. "What?"

“I like you too, I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he confessed with a soft grin, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, that's why you were always touching me?" you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

He let out a loud laugh, quickly quieted by a stern look from Madam Pince. He sent her an apologetic smile before refocusing on you and speaking in a hushed tone.

"And here I thought I was being smooth about it. I've been trying to let you know for a while now, actually."

“Bloody hell. You mean you felt the same all this time? Why on earth didn't you say anything?" You were in disbelief, feeling like you were in a dream. Maybe you had dozed off while reading about The History and Evolution of Enchantments and Charms Throughout the Ages.

"Well, why didn't you?" he asked.

"You've got me there," you said with a quiet laugh, looking down at the ground. After a moment of silence, you glanced up and saw him smiling softly at you.

"So... what's the plan now?" you asked, seeking some clarity.

"You like me, I like you. It's pretty clear, isn't it?" he responded.

You squinted your eyes at him, still not fully convinced.

"Now I can touch you as much as I want, and you can't escape anymore," he said with a mischievous grin, taking a step closer until he stood right in front of you.

"Oh, Merlin. You're a git," you exclaimed, unable to hold back a laugh. "Why on earth do I like you again?"

“Because I’m just that irresistible, obviously,” he laughed, joining in with you.

You placed your hand on his chest and playfully gave him a nudge. But before you could pull away, he surprised you by grabbing your hand. As you looked down at his hand enveloping yours, he posed a question. "So, about you admitting you like me... do you wanna back that up with a kiss?"

"Mhm, I'll have to think about that," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if you deserve it, to be honest."

He grinned cheekily and retorted, "Oh, I definitely deserve it. What have I ever done to not deserve it?"

“Let’s try and remember. Just last week you-”

As you were about to list all the things he had done, he surprised you again by silencing your words with a passionate kiss. In that moment, your thoughts faded into insignificance, consumed by the intensity of the kiss. His hand gently caressed your cheek, deepening the connection between you. Your emotions were running wild, and it felt as if your body was ablaze.

After a moment or an hour, he pulled back, and you took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. Opening your eyes, you gazed up at him.

"Sorry, I interrupted you. What were you saying?" he asked, his playful tone laced with a hint of mischief.

“I can’t remember,” you murmured, connecting your lips with his once more.

You’d been wrong all along—falling for your best friend might have been the best idea of all.

[servicpop]

kinktober week 1 — shower / bath adrien ( deliquent oc ) x bttm m reader

That Saturday afternoon glow of light orange and yellows filtered through your curtains and into your room. It was a sign to turn on your light since it was getting dark. As usual, you were hunched over your desk finishing off any work you had from your classes, pen in hand and music blasting through your headphones.

Your music cuts off and out of confusion you pick it up from its position faced down on the table; its Adrien, of course. He's sent you a rather cryptic message of just emojis, no text, just "🧍‍♂️👉🏡👍💒💦💞💞💞. You don't have half the mind to decipher it but you do understand that he's most likely heading to your house. Per usual.

You don't bother sending him a reply, you seeing it is enough for Adrien to take that as a yes.

Your parents aren't home tonight, but that's never stopped Adrien from sneaking into your room through your window, even if the front door is free. You hear rattling and that's when you know Adrien has so kindly graced you with his presence. To make things easier for him, you decide to slide the window open and peer down at him.

Just like rapunzel, he's scaling your 'tower' like it's nothing. You sometimes question if Adrien is even human, and how he's acquired knowledge to safely climb your two story home. You notice that he has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and he tilts his head up to you with a grin, "Catch this!" He shouts, throwing his bag up to you and you shakily catch it, placing it down on the floor.

The next second, Adrien is hauling himself into your room and brushing off the dust from his clothes. "The front door is... open you know?" You huff, shaking your head disapprovingly. You glance over at him, and you see beads of sweat dripping down his temples and how his chest rises and falls quicker than usual.

"Are you—" "I went to training." Right, Adrien trains basically every second day of the week for a sport you never thought to ask about. Basketball? Football? Hockey? You never asked.

"Can I use your shower, prez?" The question comes off too casual; you've never really let any of your friends take a shower in your house let alone come over regularly. But since Adrien is already here, all sweaty and hot, you can't find a reason to say no. "Fine, everything you need is in there," you nod, walking back to sit at your desk.

"You're not gonna show me where it is?" Adrien places a hand on your desk, leaning his weight against his arm as he looks down at you. You just assumed he knew where it was given he's broke into your house multiple times but your assumptions were wrong. You get up and start walking, not bothering to look back to see if Adrien was following. You knew he would.

You reach your bathroom, stepping in so you could show him where everything was. Before you started speaking, you heard the faint click of the door shutting.

"Adrien—" "How am I supposed to know which knob is hot or cold?" he's so blatantly playing with you. He walks right up to you, only a hair away as he looks down at you. A stupid grin is plastered across his face and his fingers are gripping at the edge of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. "I'm all sweaty, prez, I need help washing my back," he sighs dramatically, fanning his face.

You take a moment to just stare. He's glistening in a sheen of sweat, droplets trickling down the curves and dents of his muscles, even his hair is slightly tousled. You keep quiet, unsure of what to say. That grin on his face never seems to lessen; it only grows wider by the second.

You can't even utter out a word before Adrien is pulling off his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. Your head instinctively darts to the right, trying to shield your eyes. "What? You act like you've never seen my dick before," he snorts out, tugging at your shirt, "it's been inside you too," he adds, successfully pulling your shirt off. "Oh shut up," you groan, grimacing at the way Adrien says it.

You don't stop him from completely stripping you down before taking off his own boxers, you just have the decency not to stare. He pushed the shower door open and ushered you inside before following you in. His chest his flushed against your back and the feeling of his sweat against your skin made you shiver, "Sorry," he mutters with a small chuckle.

He does know which knob is cold or hot because he immediately turns them to a desirable temperature. It's a little bit cooler than your preference though, but you don't mind it.

Adrien wastes no time in feeling your body, his hands moving straight to your hips like a moth to a flame. "You've been eating good? Not overworking yourself, prez?" He murmurs against your skin, his lips dragging along your shoulders as he clutches your body. "Yeah," your response is quiet and short, almost breathless since Adrien is all up on you at the moment.

His fingers trace the lines of your hip bone to your front, patting the skin where your leg meets your hip, slowly dipping more into your inner thighs to rub that area. His hands are so close. You can feel him spread your flesh, and he slots his cock in the free space. "Adrien," you scold, trying to pry his hands away but Adrien just ends up pushing you against the wall, your palms flat against the glass.

"You've been treating yourself well?" He hums, and you can tell from his tone he's half-mindely asking you these questions just to keep a conversation. He moves his hips back, sliding against the underside of your dick before meeting your hole, rubbing shallowly. "I haven't seen you in a week," from gentle caresses to harsher groping, Adrien's hands are now squeezing your hips.

Adrien nips at your neck, biting gently since he knew how you felt about visible marks, "It's so hard to avoid you" He borderline growls in your ear, pushing up into you. Adrien groans quietly at the feeling of you stretching out around him. His breathing becomes more and more audible as he caresses your torso.

Your small whines are muffled by the sound of water hitting the shower floor and the feeling of the cold glass along your chest gets you squirming. Adrien lifts your hips up a tiny bit, giving your ass a small tap before pushing in fully. Your fingers twitch and clench on the glass, trying desperately to hold onto something before Adrien's own hands meet yours, slotting a finger inbetween the gaps of yours.

"Just want me to hold your hand?" You wanna bite back at him but you lose your voice the moment he pulls out and thrusts back in, forcing a yelp out your throat instead of words. He squeezes the plush flesh of your ass a few times, and his eyes are trained to your hole, watching as it sucked him back in everytime he moved his hips back.

Adrien was getting overly worked up right now and the water didn't help either. Seeing the droplets decorate your spine like clear crystals rolling down the curve of your back made his mind go blank. You really brought that side out of him. He couldn't help but imagine that was his semen painting your back instead.

"Fuck you're too cute," He grunted, squeezing your hand a little tighter. Everytime Adrien pushed his dick in further, you felt the water push into you as well like it was wetting your insides. It was a weird sensation, nothing like lube, but it served to heighten your arousal from the fact that the water made the sound ofbyour skin clapping together alot louder.

It wasn't long before Adrien had moved in a way where he could hit your prostate directly and he knew he found it the moment you let out a strangled cry. Hearing that, Adrien pushed your body more against the glass, pinning you between himself and the wall. Your neglected cock was feverishly rubbing against cold wall with each thrust, smearing your pre-cum all over the glass.

"Does it feel good? Shit, maybe I gotta experiment with temp-play later," Adrien chuckled and you just let out an agitated groan that came out more like a needy whine. "That's where you're weak, isn't it? The underside of your dick?" You hated how he knew these things by now, but he wasn't wrong. Everytime you rubbed along the cold glass your body would jolt away from it and into Adrien which would result in him pushing you back into the wall as he fucked you from behind.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you heave, squirming relentlessly as your dick twitched against the wall. Adrien just let's out a strained chuckle as he grips your hips tighter, pounding into you even faster. He leans his head down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your skin, forgetting about the fact that you would definitely scold him for this afterwards. The feeling of Adrien's chapped lips and sharp teeth piercing through your skin made your vision go white and your ears ring.

Your previously clear shower walls are now splattered with white and your knees buck as Adrien holds you up, forcing you to stand as he orgasms into you. He laughs breathlessly as you ragdoll in his arms like a baby deer who's trying to stand up. "Right, right I'll clean you up baby just relax, and then we'll get out," he chuckles, rubbing soap inbetween his hands before cleaning you off,

"I think I'm gonna dry up like a raisin if I stay here any longer..."