#longer without her than with her (she passed when i was 10) and now that's a reality. i've spent 14 years without her and i will continue

[dokjaism]

on the same topic of death does it ever fuck u up the fact that when someone passes away there will be a point in ur life where u will outlive the time u spent with them n in comparison u will live longer without them than with them

[trashytracktales]

Fade to nothing | CL¹⁶

𐙚 summary ──── Maybe the summer break on the French Riviera fried their brain cells, because they've finally decided to simply not care anymore if someone sees them together. But when she catches the wrong stares, she starts spiraling. Now, Charles has to switch her focus back on him.

𐙚 pairing ──── Charles Leclerc x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, secret relationship going public, fluff & smut, overusing French terms of endearment, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, lots of teasing, reader dealing with insecurities.

𐙚 word count ──── 5.5k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 10, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Foaming at the mouth, because I find it so very offensive that I don't have my own personal Charles Leclerc. Anyway 😤. As Daniel Ricciardo said, enjoy the filth. Wait, no. That's me 🤍🎀

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THEIR DAY ON the French Riviera begun in a golden haze. Hand in hand, they strolled through picturesque streets, enjoying every moment together. In public. For the first time.

They walked across the town like they were the only two people left on Earth, passing by quiet art galleries and stylish boutiques. For the most part, all she focused on was the pure excitement of being with him, holding his hand had, taking pictures and making memories. But as the day went on, her awareness of the curious looks she caught grew stronger.

The sun is now slowly setting, painting the horizon in a warm orange glow just as they return to Charles' boat. As though nothing could possibly bother them here, Charles puts his arm around her and guides her on board. Then, he offers her a gentle smile, his gaze full of warmth while telling her he's heading over to make some drinks.

The girl watches him for a moment, allowing herself to take in the serene comfort he exudes, and wishing she could absorb even a small portion of it. She always feels it when she looks at him, and this time around, nothing is different. On the contrary, somehow, it's as if everything she feels for him comes together in a tiny, small point, a singularity so powerful that it makes her feelings collapse on top of each other.

She rushes to the cabin to change, but her hands start to shake halfway through, and she can feel the doubts weighing her down. She keeps thinking about the subtle judgment she saw in their eyes, which serves as a reminder that many people might believe they jumped into this too soon and that she is only a fling — a stand-in for his previous relationship.

Even though she tries to push the thought away, the sadness comes too quickly, and tears start to well up in her eyes. Suddenly, she feels small, so out of place, as though she’s a visitor in his life rather than someone who belongs beside him.

Which sucks, because she really, really likes him.

She was always confident; she thinks that was one of the reasons why Charles noticed her in the first place. But now, it is as if all her confidence has evaporated under the gaze of some random people she doesn't even know.

They both agreed to keep the relationship a secret in the beginning, just as they both agreed that today they won’t care if anyone sees them. They've stayed hidden from the world for far too long, but now she wonders if they should have waited just a little bit longer because, all of a sudden, she starts feeling too unprepared for the wave that is about to hit, which sends her spiraling.

Because it takes her too long to return, Charles comes to check on her, finding her in the cabin, sitting on the edge of the bed, half naked and clutching one of his shirts to her chest. Usually, he's not the type to intrude, but the soft sound of her quiet sobs fills the small room, piercing through him like a sharp, unexpected ache.

Without a second thought, Charles sprints over, kneeling down in front of her, his gaze steady, filled with raw concern, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She feels his hand on her thigh, which brings her back to the present moment, way too fast. Her breath is slightly shaky while her hands try to instinctively pull away from his gentle grip to wipe her cheeks, in order to hide any trace of her tears.

Looking down at him, she manages to let out a choked word that holds so much weight for her right now, “Us.”

“Us?” Charles raises an eyebrow. “What about us, mon cœur?”

She smiles, pressing the shirt closer to her chest, wiping the tears again with the back of her hand.

“I want you to have it all,” she admits, “And I'm starting to think that, maybe, I won't be able to give you what you need.”

He wants to immediately deny her statement, because in the four months they've been together, she gave him everything and more.

“What? What do you think you don't give me?” he asks, taking the same hand she wiped her tears in his palm.

She shrugs, “I just think… I sometimes think you deserve better.”

Better. The idea twists in his mind, disbelief and frustration tightening around his heart like a claw. He lets out a small scoff — not to mock her, but because it's hard for him to believe that she's doesn't think she's enough for him. It breaks his heart, because she cannot be further away from the truth.

“Where is this coming from?” asks Charles in a quiet, but firm tone.

She shakes her head, wishing she would've never opened her big mouth, “I was just thinking,” the girl repeats, letting out a dry chuckle. “It's nothing, really.”

Charles’ eyes travel across her face, taking in every micro expression, “You're crying, mon amour, so it's not nothing. Where is this coming from?” he asks again, “How much ‘better’ do you think I deserve?”

Her fingers start fidgeting in his grasp, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder, “Everyone loves you, especially your fans. You deserve someone who matches that, someone who belongs in your world, without feeling so small next to you.” She pauses for a moment, the words weighing her down, “I saw people staring today,” she explains, “I know we’ve both agreed to not care about what they think or if someone gives a fuck about seeing us together, but I realized how out of place I must look beside you. That’s all.”

Charles needs superhuman powers to ignore the frustration that’s slowly creeping around his shoulders. His eyes are intent, fixed on her, desperate for her to see what he does. He knows that her feelings are valid and very real to her, but that doesn't mean that they tell her the whole truth. At the same time, he doesn't want to make it worse by explaining why people's opinions shouldn't affect her the way they do. Instead, he gently grabs her hips, pulling her down to sit on his lap, so she's now straddling him, their faces inches apart.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice low, “You see me, beyond everything everyone else sees, and that’s why you are more than enough. You are the realest thing that has ever happened to me, do you understand? You're not just a phase, and I'm so sorry I didn't show you enough how important you are to me. Because you are, bébé.”

She bites her tongue in order to stop herself from contradicting her boyfriend. Deep down, she knows she’s flawed in ways she can’t easily mend, no matter how much Charles wants to reassure her. A part of her wants to believe him, but even now, wrapped in his warmth, she knows the doubts will find their way back.

Charles’ hands drop on her waist, resting there while holding her close on his lap. He feels her doubt, understanding that she's struggling with more than what she lets him to see — another dagger to his heart.

“I'm with you, love,” he adds, rubbing his thumbs in small circles on her bare skin, “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Not if I have any say in it, is that clear?”

His voice sounds far too bossy, which makes her flinch a little, recognizing too late that he is far too blunt for the situation they both find themselves in.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, don't apologize,” Charles rushes to say, pressing her head against his chest. “I’m glad you told me, but I want you to care about what I say, and not what people might say.”

He envelops her completely in his arms, and it’s like he’s just now realizing how small she feels against him, her body fitting perfectly against his. She feels that, too — the warmth and steadiness of his arms around her, the way he grounds her, making her feel safe.

“I never doubted you, you know,” she clarifies, “I was just thinking that, if I can't handle pressure, I don't think we should…”

He tightens his grip around her waist, refusing to let her finish her thought, his heart screaming in agony as she tries to move away. “Don’t go there, please,” he almost implores her.

“Why not?” she whispers.

“Because it’s not the case, I promise.”

“But—”

“Because you'd be so wrong. Because I love you,” he continues, as if it's the most casual thing ever. Like it is as obvious as tomorrow. As easy as breathing. As automatic as blinking. As if it's not the first time he ever says it to her face.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The words are ricocheting against her skull like he just put a spell on her. Of course Charles loves her. He showed her this through every little gesture along the way, and she knows he means it, because for the first time since they got back, she realizes she doesn’t want to run from this, from him.

She was so blind, but the next time she looks at him, her fingers tracing his cheek, she simply knows. Charles lets out a small sigh, leaning into her touch, then taking her hand back in his, pressing a gentle kiss on top of her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tell me you see it,” says Charles, exhaling a heavy breath.

His gesture makes her feel warm inside, “See what?”

“That you are everything to me,” he answers softly, caressing her hand with his thumb. “That I want you exactly as you are.”

For a moment, understanding dawns in her eyes — the realization that they are real, in spite of what she might think — like a light that is breaking through the doubts that had clouded her mind for so long.

“You are mine and I am yours, and I won't have it any other way.”

She exhales slowly, nodding in his direction. Even though he's able to see the relief washing over her face, he still needs a confirmation, so he can anchor himself to it.

“Say you understand.”

“I understand,” she parrots, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.

He sees the hesitation, closing his eyes for a moment. “You understand, but you don't believe me,” Charles concludes, his voice full of wonder. He sucks in a breath while freeing her lip, brushing his thumb against it. His eyes lock on hers, “You really think there is someone else out there who makes me feel the way you do, hm? Who else is going to be this responsive, baby?”

To show her what he means by that, he pushes his thumb inside her mouth, Charles' soft voice sending shivers down her spine. She opens up more, instantly, gazing back at him, realizing how right he is. Meanwhile, Charles is slowly pushing his thumb further, watching her lips closing around it.

His mouth curls up into a smile, “That's it, mon amour. Oui, see that? I don't think there is anyone else out there who can be this good for me, so eager to submit to everything I do,” he laughs, “Hell, I don't even have to tell you what to do, you just know, baby.”

She closes her eyes for a split second, sucking on Charles’ thumb, her hands gripping tightly on his forearm. It makes him feel in control more than usual, which awakens something primal in him. He ends up caressing the side of her face with his fingers as he pushes his thumb deeper, pulling it out with a soft pop, before shoving it back in.

“So fucking good for me, and you think I deserve better? What’s better than this, mon cœur?”

As a response, she moans slowly around his deliberate, slow movement. He finds it so satisfying to see how easily she listens, understanding exactly what she needs from him in return — patience, kindness, reassurance, and trust.

Charles pumps his thumb one more time before pulling out, using it to leave a wet trace down her neck. His hand tightens around it for a brief moment, bringing her back to him. She opens her eyes, still under the spell he put on her earlier with just three little words. Her eyes are dark as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, the desire in her eyes sparking like fireworks.

“You need this, don't you?” he asks curiously.

She nods, which makes Charles smirk. It’s easy to notice the subtle shift in her energy — the way she presses her body closer to his, and the way her breathing deepens. Charles sees the vulnerability in the way she looks at him, but he knows is different now; she’s not hesitating anymore.

Something flickers inside of him as her hand lightly but purposefully caresses his chest; she wants him to take the lead. She isn't seeking power or domination, but asking him to guide them both through this. And Charles understands she’s giving him the space to be the one to move them forward, because this is more than just a physical need. It's about how she decides, here and now, that she trusts him completely.

They stand inches apart, the air between them heated and taut with silent yearning. Every part of their bodies is tuned to each other in a way that feels so delicate yet urgent, and Charles can feel her heartbeat synchronize with his, both of them pounding in anticipation. Her lips are slightly parted as her eyes glide up to his, a silent invitation he cannot refuse. The outside world seems so far away, as if all that remains is this common understanding that neither of them is willing to let go of.

The kiss begins shyly and slowly. At first, his lips are gentle against hers, a slight touch that seems to carry the weight of all they have been resisting. She reacts swiftly, her hand slipping into his hair, drawing him in and intensifying the kiss.

Then everything changes — the pressure grows desperate, almost vital as the intensity increases. She melts into him, pressing every inch of her body against his as if she can't get close enough. It drives him wild, forcing him to tighten his grip on her. 

Slowly but surely, their make out session turns into a silent cry for something more profound, as her fingers tighten in his hair to pull him closer. Their chests heave and their foreheads rest against one another until they eventually split apart, panting for one more breath of air.

“Forgive me, mon amour,” says Charles, trying his hardest to regain his composure.

“Forgive you?”

“Because I made you doubt us. Doubt me, and how I feel about you,” he clarifies, breathing wetly above her skin. “Will you let me show you how sure I am about this?”

She nods again, smiling, her hands still resting on his chest.

He gets up to lay her carefully on the bed, positioning himself between her legs as he unbuttons his white shirt. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes glide over her bare chest and the way her wavy hair spills over the pillows, making her look like an angel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he leans over to kiss her neck, then going further down, sucking bruises all over her chest on his way to her stomach, claiming his girl with every flick of his tongue against her skin. He cups her breast in his palm, squeezing her enough to feel him all over her body, his lips reaching over her panties. “In case I wasn't dead fucking clear already,” Charles adds softly, almost like a promise, hooking his fingers on the lace material before pulling it down her legs, ��I only want us. Like this. Always.”

She moans softly, anticipating his fingers to send her to another realm, far from any doubt. And her world does, indeed, change completely the moment she feels his tongue at her entrance instead. So hot and soft and warm against her, that her fingers curl instantly into his hair while his tongue slips between her folds, as if that is its rightful home.

“Charles,” his name comes out of her mouth in the form of a whine, sending little jolts towards his already hardened cock.

“Putain,” he chokes out, raising his head to look at her, “Nobody tastes like you do, baby. So sweet and wet for me.”

“Charles,” she whines again, her chest rising and falling with burning intensity. “Please…”

“Patience, bébé,” Charles chuckles, his voice vibrating hotly above her, “Let me worship you, so you won’t question me ever again, yes?”

He would have heard her agreeing with him, if Charles hadn't slipped his hands under her until his palms gripped her ass to pull her closer to his mouth. As a result, he hears her moan louder than before, smiling as he connects his lips back on her pussy, sucking on her clit with a newfound thirst.

His grip on her is so strong that even if she wants to push her hips further, she can't move an inch. Which drives her crazy, because his tongue works her with such frivolous movements, bringing her so close to the edge, but she still needs more.

“Baby,” she moans painfully, getting too agitated that it makes her get up, proppting herself on her elbows to watch him. “Fuck, Charles,” she adds, admiring how beautiful he looks between her legs, lapping at her with one goal in mind.

She tries to rock her hips back against the pressure again, which just reminds Charles of how good he makes her feel. The thought drives him mad and, even though it’s all about her right now, he can’t stop fucking his hips down so he can rub his aching cock against the bed, searching for any sort of friction.

“I feel you, baby. Don’t hold back,” says Charles, his voice sounding muffled between her legs.

His tongue is enough to make her come all over his face, he knows that, but he can't deprive her of his fingers when she needs him the most. So, he uses his hand to split her further under his mouth, making sure he touches her sweet spot again and again. And again, until a wave of pleasure hits her like a tsunami, shaking her to the core as she cums involuntarily. She tries to pull him out of her legs, because she knows how messy it gets when she comes that hard, but Charles drops his mouth back on her, driving her through her orgasm as his tongue finally stops at her entrance to catch the rest of her release. Then, he swallows her sweetness, letting his forehead drop on her thigh.

Their breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the entire cabin for a while, her palm resting on his cheek to caress him gently as they both recover slowly.

“So fucking hot, mon cœur.”

She sighs, still too sensitive from the pleasure that reverberates throughout her body, “Come up here,” says the girl, patting Charles’ head.

He pushes himself up, still half dressed and very much hard in his boxers. Charles lays his weight on her, exhausted, like he's came ten times by now. Gently, he rests his head on her chest while her arm wraps around him and his palm curves around her breast, pinching her nipple lazily between his fingers.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, enjoying the way she gets covered in goosebumps under his breath. “So perfect and so mine.”

She can't say anything to him without her voice shaking, so she gently grabs his chin, bringing Charles on top of her to kiss him. She feels her own taste as their tongues collide, causing her to moan softly into his mouth. Even if this kiss is much, much tamed than the previous one, just the thought that he was between her legs makes her pussy tighten, as if she's been set on fire from the inside out.

“Can I return the favor?” she finally asks in a breathy voice once their lips part.

Charles hums at the mental image of her mouth around his cock, but decides to push the thought deep into his mind, “Who said I’m done with you, mon amour?”

Charles' hand travels to her pussy once again, his middle finger gliding lightly over her wetness. Her eyes close in pleasure, while her arms wrap around his neck, before she realizes what he's actually doing. Her eyes snap at him as he reaches the letter 'R', Charles grinning proudly from above her.

Their faces are so close she can see the twinkle in his eyes, and their breaths blend together in a sweet warmth.

She laughs, “Did you just spell your name on my clit?”

His expression instantly lights up when he hears her. “Planned to do it with my tongue, but I didn't expect you to come that hard,” he admits, joining her in laughter.

She blushes at his statement, remembering how true it is. It's impossible for Charles not to notice that, but he loves it when her cheeks and chest become so rosy as a result. He also loves the sounds she makes when she's turned on, so he's not wasting any more time before teasing her wet entrance with his finger, pumping it slowly, until he feels her clenching around it. Just to make her forget the shyness, of course.

His flemish gaze sweeps over her entire body and, seeing her so vulnerable and willing beneath him, makes him want to run his tongue over every inch of her, to cover her in kisses and love marks until it's too much, so that he can come all over her pretty nipples just at the sight of her.

“Fuck, if you could see yourself right now,” says Charles, exhaling sharply. “You make me lose my mind, you know that? I almost forgot I still have to show you how mine you are. You want that, baby, don't you?”

“Yes,” she returns to whining, because apparently that's all she knows recently.

And she does it again, when his fingers pull out of her way too soon for her liking. She follows Charles, getting rid — fucking finally — of his shorts and boxers with a quick movement, poising himself again in his place, right between her legs.

She swallows hard at the sight of him, her mouth drying up in record time. She remembers the first time she saw Charles naked and how it didn't even occur to her that they would even fit. Of course, he made it work, because that's what a man with a huge cock does — it makes it fit.

The girl follows Charles as he wraps his dominant hand around the base, then runs his hand along its length, massaging the tip to spread the pre-cum. He made her feel so good, she didn't even take into consideration how torturous it must have been for him. But the little hums he lets out as he positions himself at her entrance are enough of a signal for her to push her hips against him.

Unfortunately, the man meant every word when he said he wasn't done, so he won't simply let her have it, just because she’s so willing to take him. She has to understand, once and for all, that this is it — she is it for him.

Slowly, Charles taps the head of his cock at her entrance, teasing mercilessly. It's almost like a punishment for thinking so low of herself, for doubting him, his feelings for her and what they've built together so far.

A lot can change in four months, especially feelings.

He lets out a shaky breath as he parts her folds with his tip, but instead of pushing inside, he fucks his cock up between the lips of her cunt. Once. Twice. Three times, until he's leaking on her clit, coated in her wetness. It is a sinful feeling that makes them both moan in unison, an ecstatic duet between two souls who found each other at the right time, no matter what people would say about it.

Fuck people. All of them.

She throbs against him, the feeling of skin on skin settings her atoms on fire. His hardness feels so good between her folds that she needs to anchor herself to something, and the sheets are far too fragile for her grip.

“Yeah, you feel that, ma vie?” asks Charles rhetorically when he sees her losing herself. “Of course you do. The question is, did you feel it before?”

“Charles…” she whimpers, pushing her hips against his length in order to find the sweet friction she craves. “Need you. Please.”

Her eyes are watering as she feels the knot in her stomach, waiting for a release that seems so far away — he’s not even inside, fuck's sake.

“So pretty,” hums Charles, ignoring her pleading. “You're gonna look so pretty taking me, ma belle. You always do.”

She raises her head only to let her eyes wander down Charles’ body, from his flushed face to his toned abs, down to where his cock rests hardened between her pussy lips. His eyes are locked on where they're making contact, the image so intimate and powerful it makes him want to scream. She realizes that this is a punishment for him as much as it is for her, but he enjoys it more since he's the one in charge.

She gasps in surprise when Charles grabs her thighs, her head falling back down on the pillows. He pulls her closer as he leans over to seal his lips with hers, having no intent to be soft this time, the passion that burns between them pushing him so close to the edge.

Charles’ tongue tastes her in a rush as he pushes forward, his cock pressing deliciously on her clit, making her break the kiss with a pathetic whine.

So predictable.

“Can you, please, fuck me already?” she says, frustration evident in every word she utters.

Her pleas are so close to get him, wanting nothing more than to bury himself so deep inside her, until he feels her coming on his cock all over again. But Charles groans loudly, hovering above her chest to take one of her nipples in his mouth, biting her gently.

At that, her frustration only grows bigger, forcing her back to arch against him.

“Charles,” her tone is demanding now, motivated to make him understand she's done playing.

“Don't worry, I’ll fuck you so good, baby. Turn over for me,” he replies, anticipation tugging at the edge of his patience.

She does as instructed without saying another word, feeling his hands grabbing at her waist to pull her against him. Then, Charles pushes his palm gently between her shoulder blades until her face is buried between the silky pillows. She lets a muffled moan while his knees are pressing down into the mattress on either side of her thighs, his cock resting hard against her ass.

“Did I mention how pretty you are?” he asks, not expecting an answer in return, while he finally guides himself toward her needy cunt. He pushes in, slowly at first. Deliberate and calculated, as if their initial contact is meant to gather as much data as possible, so he can choose the perfect setup for what's about to come — the position, the angle, the pace. “Such a pretty girl,” he adds with a tamed moan, “Opening right up for me. Every single time, baby. Taking me so well.”

She tries to get up by doing a weak push-up, but her head drops heavy between her shoulders as she fucks back against Charles' length, the pleasure overwhelming her.

The feeling of having him like this makes her squeal, failing to find a single thing worth more in this world than Charles thrusting from behind.

“Oui, have my cock, baby, like that,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss on her shoulder, managing to hit her deeper from this angle.

Charles' touch is still gentle, though, like he's testing the grip, desperately wanting to find the perfect balance as he eases into a rhythm made just for them. He takes every gasp and every shiver of her body as signals, relearning what makes her pulse race and using everything in their favor.

She turns her head to the side when Charles leans over to clasp the edge of the mattress, his knuckles whitening with the force he's putting into it. The veins on the back of his hand look like they're about to pop at any moment, bulging from his skin and snaking up his forearm, finally out of her view as they reach his elbow.

He's so hot and she is so turned on that she could come again just by looking at his arms.

Charles' pace begins to build, the intensity in his breathing growing more labored with every thrust of his hips. Each one is bolder than the last one, like he's reaching the apex of a corner, pressing into her just enough to feel the thrill without losing control. As a response to his movements, she starts breathing in short spasms, the world around them becoming a blur.

“That's it, bébé. You're so fucking good for me, I'm not… fuck,” his voice almost gives out, feeling how close he is to cum from fucking her like this, so he decides to pull out completely in order to prolong the feeling.

Charles learned from an early age that every race is unpredictable, so he has to adapt to any condition.

It makes her cry at the emptiness, her pussy clenching wetly around nothing while he looks down, curious too see how bad she needs him.

Her head falls back between the pillows for the hundred time, too exhausted to scold Charles any more. So, she guides her hand between her legs, firmly massaging her clit, feeling her thighs start to shake. However, the pressure is not nearly as good, which makes Charles chuckle at her weak attempts.

Patiently, he grabs both of her wrists to keep them pinned to her lower back as he uses his free hand to rub the head of his cock against her throbbing hole.

“Chaaarles,” she whines loudly, pressing her cheek deeper into the silky fabric under her, mind too numb to protest further more.

He buries himself back in with a strong thrust, making her gasp at the fullness. Somehow, it feels so much better than before, her body so sensitive in all the places they make contact.

With every shift in pressure and pace, Charles reads her reactions as if they are telemetry data on his steering wheel.

“Please don't... Don't stop again, please,” she lets out another cry, feeling her walls clenching so sweetly around him. “You feel so good, fuck, I… I'm so close.”

He knows that. That's why he stopped in the first place. But now he's ready to give her exactly what she needs, freeing her wrists as he watch them fall next to her body as if they're lifeless. Charles then grabs her waist with both hands, thrusting into her so hard that the sound of their bodies slapping together drowns out both of their moans.

“Want to fuck you for the rest of my life, amour. Please, let me fuck you for the rest of my life,” he implores, panting aggressively.

“Oh, yes,” she agrees, squeezing her eyes in pleasure.

Charles pulls out again, making her grunt at the loss. But before she gets the chance to protest, he flips her over, shoving his cock back in while searching for her eyes, a smug smile hanging from the corner of his mouth.

She moans in relief, pulling him closer, wrapping her hands around his neck to bury her fingers in his messy hair.

“I almost started barking at you,” she admits, rolling her hips with his.

“I know, baby. Just wanted to see your face,” he explains, finding his pace once more.

“Oh, yes. Yes, feels so good,” she begins to moan uncontrollably under his weight, just as Charles leans down to rest his forehead against hers.

“I know, I know. I've got you, my love,” he kisses her again but it doesn't last this time.

Their mouths remain parted, breathing heavily against each other as she comes around his cock, gazing into each other's eyes as if they could see what shape their soul have. Seeing her face changing in pleasure, makes Charles fucking into her faster, following so closely after her.

His moans sound so melodious in her ears while he rides their orgasms, that she starts believing honey is dripping from his lips, because he cannot be real.

Charles is about to pull out when she stops him with a hand on his lower back.

“I only want us, too. Like this. Always,” she repeats his words from earlier, more determined than ever. “And I think I love you a tiny bit more,” she continues, running her hand up his spine. “That's why I was so scared.”

Charles shivers under her gentle touch, “You still scared?”

“Terrified,” she replies, giggling, pulling him in to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

The kind that makes the rest of the world fade to nothing.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt14

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: You and Wooyoung do a little online shopping for a good cause.

wc: 9.3k

ch. warnings: sub Wooyoung, dom San & reader, pegging, anal fingering / sex (Woo receiving), blowjobs, cumming untouched, hairpulling, dirty talk, degradation kink, dacryphilia (ofc), orgasm control, multiple orgasms, light spanking, Woo gets spitroasted — but first he sucks the strap uwu, petnames (‘cockslut’, ‘babygirl’, ‘good boy’ for Wooyoung, ‘baby’ for reader)

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: only the epilogue left 〒▽〒 don’t touch me i’m emotional 〒▽〒

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

The sky is already darkening by the time San gets back to the apartment building after his late afternoon gym visit, and a crisp smell hangs in the air from an autumn shower that recently passed by. It’s invigorating, keeping San bright and alert despite the satisfying ache in his body from his post-workout exhaustion.

He picks up the mail on his way back; including yours, of course. His key chain has been a little heavier for some time now, but he likes the weight and jingle of it in his hand.

San sifts through the mail as he waits for the elevator to come down. It takes a bit longer than usual, but finally the door opens with its familiar ‘ding’ — revealing one of San’s neighbours inside.

Mrs Yoon.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs Yoon,” San says awkwardly, standing aside to let her through. He tries not to think about the last time he talked to the old lady, which only makes him think about it harder, an embarrassed heat burning under his skin.

Mrs Yoon gives him a crinkled smile as she steps out the elevator. “Hello, young man,” she politely greets him back, but there is a cheeky glint in her eyes.

San’s skin burns hotter, and can’t decide if it’s a mercy or a torment that she doesn’t acknowledge their previous conversation, leaving it all unspoken between them. Instead she simply wishes San a pleasant evening and starts to walk past him, going about her business without embarrassing him any further.

She probably intends for it to be a mercy — but something nags at San as Mrs Yoon leaves, and he realises he can’t let her go just yet.

“Ah, Mrs Yoon, could you wait a moment? Please?” he asks. “There is something I’d like to talk about.”

She stops her little shuffle towards the exit, blinking at San in surprise. “Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

What’s on his mind? You. You are.

Specifically, the jaded resignation on your face when you’d brushed off San’s concern about Mrs Yoon’s boyfriend-comment; when you told him you’re used to it.

He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you need apathy to shield yourself from a world that’s oblivious to your lived experience at best, and at worst believes it’s something to be fixed. San isn’t naive; he knows he can’t take away society’s constant pressure for romantic attachment by himself. But there is something he can do right here and now.

Maybe today, he can be your shield instead.

“Um, Mrs Yoon, when we ran across you the other day… I just wanted to say, she’s not my girlfriend,” San says with calm warmth, a friendly smile on his face. Making it clear as politely as possible that he’s not starting a discussion, just stating a fact.

Mrs Yoon blinks at him in confusion, but then she breaks out in a smile of her own, filled with misplaced understanding.

“Ahhh, I see! And the other young man, he is not your boyfriend then, hm?” she grins slyly, like she’s in on some covert plot of secrecy. “I got it, your secret is safe with me. Though if I can give a piece of advice; a little more discretion wouldn’t hurt if you want to keep it a secret for much longer! If an old biddy like me has figured it out, then I can’t be the only one.”

San sighs a weary chuckle at the further misunderstanding. “No, no there’s no secrets. Wooyoung is my boyfriend,” he says, and Mrs Yoon’s confusion comes back tenfold. “But it’s different with her. We’re… We are friends. Really close friends. She’s very important to me.”

Something softens in Mrs Yoon’s face at San’s simple earnestness. She scratches her chin as she mulls it over, but eventually comes to a decision with a firm nod. “Hmm, well. Nothing wrong with that either, I suppose. Just as long as you three treat each other right.”

The safe politeness in San’s smile melts away, making way for honest happiness. “We do, Mrs. Yoon. Always.”

Grinning, she reaches up to suddenly pinch his cheek. San lets out a tiny ack, more out of surprise than pain, though her grip is surprisingly strong. “Now that I know,” she winks cheekily, then releases him. “Have a nice evening together, young man. She’s very lucky to have a good friend like you.”

Ah, and there Mrs Yoon gets it wrong again. “No, I’m the lucky one here, I reckon,” San grins. She shakes her head with a little reedy laugh, like his answer is exactly what she expected from him.

With that, San parts ways with Mrs Yoon and takes the elevator to the top floor. To you and Wooyoung.

San finds his and Wooyoung’s apartment empty when he drops off his bag — though honestly, he’s stopped thinking of the two spaces as ‘yours’ and ‘theirs’. So he gives Byeol a sweet little kiss on the top of her sweet little head, then goes over next-door without too much thought. Some days San enjoys a bit of alone time, but this is not one of them.

No, San can’t wait to curl up on the couch against one or two of his favourite people, maybe order in some food today so the time can be spent just lazing around in each others’ company.

When he opens the door to your apartment (strictly legally speaking), San hears an animated conversation happening. He perks up in curiosity, heading in closer to make out the words of what seems to be a lively discussion.

He finds you and Wooyoung on the couch, scrolling through something on your phone.

“Oohh, this looks pretty! And affordable too,” you say, looking to Wooyoung for his agreement — until you spot San and give him a little wave. “Hey, welcome back! Had a good workout?”

“Yeah, real good,” San says, a fond smile crinkling his eyes. Sounds like you and Wooyoung are looking at apartment listings again; something that started out as just fun and casual, building little fantasies around the possibilities, but the search is slowly growing more intentional.

But Wooyoung makes a face at your phone screen, shaking his head. “Too small,” he says decisively. “Ah, San! San! Good, you’re here, you can settle this for us!”

“Sure, lay it on me,” San says, naively assuming it’s about one of the listings. Then again, the way you immediately roll your eyes in exasperation…

“Seriously, Woo? You’re still on that?”

Wooyoung ignores you, turning to San with grim determination. “San. Tell her that if I don’t get to fuck other people, then she doesn’t get to either! A closed relationship, that’s what we agreed on.”

“That’s what you agreed on. You and San. I never agreed to any such thing.”

San blinks in baffled confusion. What? “Wait, you want to sleep with others? You barely have the stamina to keep up with us,” he blurts out, unable to fully process the idea that you’d want to open the relationship up.

“Hey,” you pout.

“What, ‘hey’?” he chuckles. “You’re the one who blamed us for that UTI because we are, and I quote, ‘horny demons who thrive on obliterating your poor bladder’s bacterial ecosystem’. Seriously, since when are you looking for more?”

“I’m not! Woo is just making drama over nothing!” you sigh, shooting Wooyoung some heavy side-eye. “I only pointed out that because we kinda winged this whole throuple situation, that technically we never made any rules about me and any hypothetical interest I might have.” Your side-eye deepens at the last part.

“Right,” Wooyoung says, returning your side-eye in equal force. “Hypothetical. Because you totally didn’t bring that up out of nowhere after sniffing around for gossip on San and Yunho’s past… activities.”

Yunho?! Since when is he on your radar?

It throws you too; your side-eye breaks as you look at Wooyoung in surprise. “That’s what this is about? Because I asked about him?” You let out a small, endeared giggle at Wooyoung’s jealous streak. “Woo, I’m just curious about the guy, is all! I finally get to meet him in person next week, I’ve only heard him on voice chat when you guys play that Mile of Mythologies thing together.”

“League of Legends!” San and Wooyoung protest simultaneously like clock-work.

“Yeah yeah,” you grin. “So, can we stop throwing a fuss over nothing or picking on me for having a delicate bladder?”

“Hey, I’m not picking on you for that. Honestly, all things considered it’s kind of a miracle you only got a UTI once. You got a toughie in there!” Wooyoung points out, grinning as he pats your lower stomach.

“Thank you! Now let’s go back to the important things in life, shall we?” You raise up your phone back up to go look at apartment listings again. Or so San thinks, at least.

(Somewhere in the back of his head, San vaguely notes that technically, you still haven’t agreed on a damn thing about the sleeping-with-other-people thing. Not that Wooyoung’s objections were needed; you don’t seem to actually have any serious considerations about Yunho, or anyone else. Well, and even if you did…

San smiles absent-mindedly. It’s not like he has bad memories of those past ‘activities’ with Yunho. The direct opposite, in fact. The idea of teaming up on you or Wooyoung… Wait, what? Hold on, where did that thought come from?)

“You really don’t like this one, Woo?” you ask Wooyoung, tilting the screen to him, completely unaware of the newly sparked scenarios inside San’s head.

“I told you, it’s too small!”

San shakes off whatever the hell is going on with his imagination, and focuses on his curiosity about this apartment. It must be real nice if you’re so set on the place, even if Wooyoung disagrees.

“This is too small?? Damn Woo, never knew you’re that much of a size queen.”

San frowns. Size queen? Again; what?

“Hey, who can blame me? I’ve gotten used to a certain… stretch,” Wooyoung says, a bold grin spreading over his face.

A stretch??? …Okay, maybe San needs to re-examine his assumptions about what you and Wooyoung are looking at.

“God you’re nasty,” you sigh in exasperation, but there’s a laugh hidden in there too. “Fine, fine, let’s see what else they got.”

San has finally reached you, standing behind the couch to look over your shoulder at the screen. His eyes widen as the veil of confusion lifts away, a surprised flush hitting his cheeks.

No, those are not apartment listings on your screen.

Those are sex toys.

Specifically, you and Wooyoung are looking at strap-ons.

“How about this kit?” Wooyoung asks, gesturing at the next one you scrolled to. “That looks promising.”

At first, your face lights up with interest, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace when you notice the cost. “Looks good but… might be a tiny bit out of my price range.”

“Our price range,” Wooyoung counters firmly. “Think of it as an investment for the future! What do you think, Sannie?”

“Um,” is the most eloquence response San can muster at this moment.

“Look look, it even comes with a few different dildos, see! And the harness is backless too,” Wooyoung says, eyebrows wiggling as he zooms in on one of the images.

The picture shows the back-view of a model wearing the harness, held into place by a supple-looking leather waistband and two elegant black straps wrapped around the upper thighs, snugly fitted just below the model’s completely exposed ass.

“…How’s the size? Is it adjustable?” you ask, not entirely convinced yet but slowly swayed by Wooyoung’s sales pitch.

San feels a heat crawl up to his face, and tugs at the neckline of his shirt as unbidden images float up in his mind of your ass in that harness. No, San definitely needs no further swaying. Fuck, his imagination sure is working overtime today. He’ll pay the whole damn thing out of his own pocket if the money is really a concern to you.

You nose through the product specifications, your face brightening at what you find. After that, it’s not long before the kit finds itself dropped into your shopping cart.

“Three days?” Wooyoung groans when he sees the shipping date, falling back into the couch miserably. “How am I supposed to wait that long?”

“Aw, you poor thing,” you coo teasingly, patting Wooyoung’s hair. “What a trial. What a tribulation.”

San grins when Wooyoung scoffs and grabs for your hand to get a bite in on your forearm. You yelp, unsuccessfully trying to fend him off. San lets the chaos entertain him for a moment, then he gently untangles you both. “Woo, I’m sure we can find a way to make the time go by faster,” he chuckles. “Like… how about you take a few days to think about what you’d like to happen once it’s here?”

Like magic, Wooyoung’s face instantly shifts to a thoughtful expression. “Well,” he says, tapping his bottom lip, “I do have a few ideas…”

Never one to be timid about his ideas, you naturally know the deepest, most intimate and depraved depths of Wooyoung’s fantasies by the time you have him on your knees in front of you.

You don’t need to see the hunger in his eyes as he stares up at you to know badly he wants this; don’t need to hear the breathless inhale when your fingers tangle into his hair, how his tongue eagerly darts out to wet his lips when you tug him forward — pushing the tip of your strap right against those plump lips.

Because you already know that is exactly what Wooyoung wants. To take your cock down his throat and choke on it.

The weight of the black, silicone dildo hanging between your legs is unfamiliar, a little awkward even, but the harness is more comfortable than you expected.

You’d stayed a bit concerned about the fit until the discreetly packaged arrived, but after fiddling with some adjustments you could breathe easily. The leather now sits perfectly around your waist, and the black straps don’t dig painfully into your thighs like you’d feared, instead framing your ass in a way that must be extremely flattering to say the least — if the way San’s eyes keep trailing back to them is anything to go by.

However, for now San’s gaze is fixed on Wooyoung.

San sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread lazily and leaned back with his hands resting on the mattress, making no effort to touch Wooyoung even though he is within arm’s reach. Head slightly tilted, he watches intently how Wooyoung’s lips part as the silicone cock is pushed past them.

Wooyoung wastes no time, sinking down with a muffled groan. Messily he sucks and laps at the strap, low moans and wet noises drifting upward. You let out a blissful sigh at the view, his pretty lips stretched around your cock. He blinks up at you as he somehow manages to grin even with his mouth stuffed, his dark eyes shiny with impatience and need.

“Little more, Woo. I know you can give me more,” you hum, running your hand through his hair. “Show me how hungry you are for my cock before I fuck you with it.”

“Mmh—”

Wooyoung eagerly follows your lead when you guide his head up and down, taking you deeper and deeper with minimal encouragement. He never holds back, treating your strap like it’s a real cock; and through his pure unbridled enthusiasm, you sink away into the illusion.

Your breaths grow heavier whenever Wooyoung pulls back to suckle indulgently at the tip, thick wet swipes of his tongue as he groans, his eyes fluttering shut every time you pull his hair to force your length down his throat again. Every pass of his mouth rubs the silicone dick’s rounded base against your cunt, and its strategically placed protrusion sends sparks through your core.

You start to roll your hips into him, chasing those sparks as Wooyoung’s head bobs to meet your shallow thrusts. It’s not long before he gags around you with an obscene gurgle, a thin trail of drool escaping past the corner of his lips. Instinctively you freeze, but Wooyoung shakes his head and whines. His cheeks are flushed, a watery gleam brimming in his eyes as he stares up at you, wordlessly begging you to keep fucking his throat.

“Aw, he’s tearing up already,” San chuckles, leaning forward so he can grasp Wooyoung’s chin. “Looks so pretty with cock between his lips, doesn’t he? That smart mouth stuffed full, working so hard to please you.”

Wooyoung lets out another whine at San’s praise, only more worked up by the edge of condescension in his voice.

“Sweet babygirl,” you grin fondly. “Come, make Sannie feel good too. Can you do that for me?”

Wooyoung makes a noise, immediately reaching for San, who guides Wooyoung’s hand to wrap around his cock. He groans lowly, his back arching ever so slightly at Wooyoung’s practised strokes.

“Good boy,” San sighs, a lazy smile on his lips. “Now, get back to sucking that cock properly, hm? Wanna see you choke on it.”

Wooyoung moans loudly, more drool spilling down his chin. He keens when you pull his hair a little harder; it’s all the reminder he needs to go back to gagging around your cock, meeting the roll of your hips as you fuck his face. He breaths harshly through his nose, struggling to control his breathing but never slowing down, taking your strap down his throat like a champ without ever neglecting San.

San’s chest is starting to heave as Wooyoung jerks him off, lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded. His low whine sears through you, as does the sight of his large hand leading Wooyoung’s to pump his leaking cock. Wooyoung revels in how he’s being used, teary eyes drifting shut as he fades away into a cockdrunk haze.

“San?” you say in a strained voice, more affected by the strap’s base gentle rubbing against your clit than you expected. (Or maybe the growing pressure in your core has more to do with Wooyoung, with seeing him like this.) “I think it’s time.”

Wooyoung’s eyes peek open at the sound of your voice, shimmering wetly with unshed tears. (…Yep, that definitely helps.)

“Yeah, it’s time,” San agrees, his voice equally strained.

He guides Wooyoung’s hand down to the base of his cock, to give it a squeeze just to take the edge off. Then he moves to kneel behind Wooyoung, who almost sobs in anticipation when San grabs two handfuls of his plump ass, spreading the cheeks apart.

Wooyoung whimpers around your cock, his hands grasping at your thighs for something to anchor him while San removes a modestly-sized plug that was warming Wooyoung up for this moment. You pat his hair reassuringly, cooing soft praises at Wooyoung, who groans as San’s lubed up fingers breach his rim to loosen him up a little further. San presses a soft, lingering kiss on Wooyoung’s shoulder and moves his fingers just as gently, gradually picking up speed.

You know San is not avoiding Wooyoung’s prostate when he jerks violently, the strap slipping out of his mouth, no longer muffling his loud whines. “F-fuck, right there, r-right there, Sannie…” he moans weakly, rocking back into San’s fingers.

Clumsily, Wooyoung grabs at the strap to try and stuff it back into his mouth. The tip catches against his cheek first, smearing a thick streak of saliva across his face. You sigh contently when Wooyoung keeps his hand around the silicone cock, rubbing the pleasing protrusion at the base firmly against your cunt as he wraps his swollen lips around its length.

“Still kinda tight… Relax, babe,” San grunts, curling his fingers in a way that has Wooyoung let out a throttled mewl. He runs his free hand soothingly over Wooyoung’s back. “Ahh, no wonder you’re tense,” he purrs. “Gonna be your first time getting fucked by two cocks like this, isn’t it? You’re such a greedy, perfect cockslut that it’s easy to forget you never took more than one at once. Just doesn’t seem right… those pretty holes were made to be used and ruined by some good dick.”

Tears escape Wooyoung’s lashes as he gurgles around your strap, his motions getting shakier with every filthy word from San, trembling harder with every thrust of San’s fingers. His own cock looks achingly hard, flushed a deep red and twitching, precum beading at the tip.

“Careful, Woo,” you gently chide him. “You’re not allowed to cum until I’m fucking you properly.”

Wooyoung whimpers, trimmed nails digging into your thigh as he desperately holds back from reaching down to bring himself relief.

A dangerous grin flashes across San’s lips as he also realises just how close Wooyoung is. “Oh? The cockslut can’t even wait until he’s stuffed full the way he should be? Are you gonna fall apart on just my fingers?”

“Mhh hm—”

Wooyoung can’t get his muffled noises of denial past his obstructed throat. He tries his best to obey your instruction, but San does nothing to make it easier on him.

Instead San’s wrist snaps harshly, the squelch of lube obscenely loud. His eyes are sharp and filled with dark intent, watching how Wooyoung shudders and whines, pushed closer and closer to his limit—

You can see the exact moment Wooyoung realises his efforts to hold back are futile, his eyes going wide a split second before he convulses, inadvertently pushing the strap down the back of his throat again. San’s free hand is on Wooyoung’s cock in a heartbeat, making sure he spills messy splatters of cum on San’s fingers and his own chest.

Wooyoung pants for air, spluttering and coughing when you pull the strap from his mouth. “S-sorry, I didn’t— didn’t mean to—” He babbles a rushed apology, staring up at you with wet eyes, his face red and puffy.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you hush him, going down on your knees so you can cradle his face, brushing your thumbs over tear-streaked cheeks. “Tried so hard, didn’t you?”

“Hm-hm,” he whines in agreement.

“Our pretty babygirl just gets overwhelmed so fast, doesn’t he?” you hum, pressing small pecks on his cock-swollen lips. “So sensitive that a few fingers is all it takes.”

Wooyoung sniffs, nodding weakly. “Y-yeah.”

“Look at that, made a mess all over yourself,” you tease, catching some of the white essence dribbling down Wooyoung’s chest. “Not your fault it’s so easy to wreck you. That’s just who you are, isn’t it? A needy, desperate thing.”

He whines an unintelligible noise. For anyone else, your words might have been humiliating; but for Wooyoung, they set something inside him free. Not his fault; just his nature.

San slowly kisses up Wooyoung’s neck, rubbing his shaky arms. It’d almost be sweet, if not for the satisfied curve of San’s lips. He’s gotten Wooyoung exactly where he wants him. “It’s okay, Woo,” he says, playfully nipping at his earlobe. “You can make it up later.”

Wooyoung’s attempt at answering is smothered by San’s mouth with a sudden, hard kiss. Your breath catches at his intensity, fervid and hungry. Just the sight of San and Wooyoung entangled alone is always enough to make your toes curl; from their shared, sensual passion, to the simple beauty of their contrasted features, the striking delicacy of Wooyoung melting into San’s masculine solidness.

You could watch them forever like this, but San does not allow you to be their spectator for long. Without even breaking the kiss, he reaches out to tug at your arm, pulling you into them. You go willingly.

Wooyoung welcomes you with a soft whine as you nip and suck at his neck, the split-glistened strap pressing against his half-hard cock. He proves himself every bit the desperate, needy thing that you called him, turning his head to switch between kissing you and San, groaning against your lips as he’s engulfed with heated attention from two ends. Breathlessly he gasps between kisses, trembling while you and San slowly leave a tapestry of hickeys and bitemarks over his neck and shoulders.

It’s when he starts to rock his hips, grinding back against San, that you reach for his dick. It’s still partially soft, still sensitive from cumming earlier. Wooyoung jerks into your grasp, his loud, keening whine stifled by San’s tongue down his throat. Fresh tears spill down Wooyoung’s cheeks as he shakes his head, his hand weakly clinging onto your arm — but his body tells a different story entirely, his spine arching as he contorts with overwhelming pleasure.

You are captivated, your tongue dragging over his wet cheek as you chase an instinct to lick up his tears. “Yeah, you can take it,” you murmur by his ear, making sure to keep a steady pace with your hand. “Want you hard and leaking when I finally fuck you. You owe us that much, don’t you think? Or is our babygirl going to disappoint me again?”

Wooyoung whimpers, head falling back against San’s shoulders. “C-can take it,” he slurs, now openly rocking his hips to fuck up into your hand.

San’s eyes blaze as he watches you exert your control over Wooyoung. Once your hand has settled into a rhythm, San firmly pulls you close again, capturing you in a hard kiss this time. Heatedly he explores the familiar crevices of your mouth while Wooyoung squirms and mewls between you, jaw slackening and eyes rolling back.

Your cunt aches at Wooyoung’s noisy writhing, and you press a gentle hand against San’s shoulder to push him back.

He begrudgingly parts from your lips, breathing hard. Focus slowly returns to his eyes as he grins down at Wooyoung’s wrecked state. “He’s ready?”

“I think so,” you hum, gently cradling Wooyoung’s cheeks. “What do you say, Wooyoungie, ready to take my cock?”

Wooyoung nuzzles at your palm, the rise and fall of his chest slowly steadying. “Ready,” he sighs with a languid smile, tinged with anticipatory excitement. “Want it… want your cock so bad, want you to fuck me…”

You giggle, bumping your forehead against his. “Good boy,” you praise, and leave a light peck on his nose. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Almost effortlessly, San lifts a squirmy Wooyoung on his feet, then onto the bed, manoeuvring him onto all fours.

Wooyoung moans when you run a hand over the sweet curve of his ass, peeking over his shoulder to look at you. You knead at his cheeks, staring intently at how lube has has trickled out his stretched hole, down to his thighs. It’s all too tempting to dive in and lap it up, to tease him with your tongue and sink your teeth into that pretty ass, but you doubt Wooyoung has much patience left in him — and neither do you, for that matter.

“San?” you ask, nudging at the container of lube to reapply a fresh layer. San grabs the bottle; but instead of handing it over to you, he just grins and slides up behind you.

Generously he slicks up his own hand, and your breath hitches as San reaches around to lube up the strap for you. There is something unexpectedly sensual about his big hand gliding over the length of your silicone cock, firm strokes that have you instinctively rocking into his touch, like you can feel him.

Wooyoung lets out an impatient whine. “Please…” he begs, wiggling his ass at you, and you decide he’s been forced to wait long enough.

You softly tap San’s arm, at which he retreats to rest his sticky hand on your waist instead. He hums when you press a soft kiss of gratitude on his lips, and then you turn your full attention back to Wooyoung.

He shudders when the silicone cockhead presses at his entrance, then slowly sinks in.

It’s not the biggest dildo that came with the kit, not quite matching San in thickness, but you preferred to start out with a size that you know Wooyoung can handle. Still, it’s girth is satisfying enough with a nice upward curve, and a subtly ribbed shaft that’s already doing a number on Wooyoung, if the way his fingers dig into the sheets is any indication.

“Oh fuck,” he grits out, eyes clenched shut.

You take your time to bottom out, making sure you can do so comfortably, and Wooyoung comes apart further with every slow inch. His arms buckle, falling onto his elbows when your thighs press against his ass, fully buried inside his tight hole. He pants hard, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Please please please,” he babbles, “oh fuck please move, please fuck me already, fuck—”

“Hm, I think he likes taking your cock,” San observes dryly, a mocking lilt in his voice. He reaches around you to give Wooyoung’s ass a light smack, grinning when Wooyoung whines harder in response. “Yeah, he likes it.”

You don’t react with more than a sound of acknowledgement; too focused on the roll of your hips, too taken in by Wooyoung’s choked noises as you finally take mercy, the ribbed strap gliding in and out at a steady pace.

In a way, the rhythmic motion of thrusting into Wooyoung is intimately familiar, yet also entirely new. You’ve fucked Wooyoung with a toy before, sure, but the simple snap of your hand doesn’t compare to the physicality of using almost your entire body to bury your cock into him. Your arms tense as you hold onto his hips to keep him steady, your thighs and core muscles flex to buck against his ass over and over again.

(Already you can tell that you need to conserve your energy, not wanting to wear yourself out before Wooyoung is a sobbing ruin, utterly wrecked and completely sated.)

Wooyoung gasps and whines with every thrust, his fists tightening into the sheets — but despite his obvious pleasure, a tendril of frustration flicks at you; you’ve seen Wooyoung in the throes of depraved passion often enough to know you’re not hitting the spot that will obliterate him, not in the way San can. You try to adjust, searching for his prostate, but it’s trickier when you can’t actually feel inside him, and your efforts only seem to make your thrusts more awkward.

San puts his hand on your waist when he realises you are getting in your own way, squeezing reassuringly. His breath falls on your ear as he guides your motions, easing your hips into a smooth roll that soon has Wooyoung let out a pitched cry, his entire body jolting.

“That’s it,” San rasps in satisfaction, letting you move on your own again, “that’s how you fuck that tight hole. Look at you making such a pretty mess of Wooyoungie, all cockdrunk on you.”

Wooyoung keens at the praise, whimpering every time you hit that sweet spot.

You can’t help a moan of your own, a hot wire thrumming through your core — that only grows sharper when San’s hands wander down to your ass. At first he just lightly squeezes, but soon he takes full advantage of the harness’ open back, spreading your cheeks apart to expose you to the cool air. His thumbs inch inward; one is still covered with a remnant of lube, slowly circling your sensitive rim.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected touch, making you buck harder into Wooyoung. His voice breaks with every snap of your hips, “Hngh, ah ah—” hiccuped moans spilling past his lips.

San grins, his thumb resting against your entrance, never quite pressing inside. “Fucking him so well, baby,” he groans, lazily sucking a wet patch into your neck. “Tell her, Wooyoung. Tell her how well she’s fucking you.”

“S-so well,” Wooyoung sobs, clawing at the sheets. “Fucking me so well…”

His garbled cries burn through you, the heat inside your core stoked by his writhing, desperate state. So pliant, so willing to surrender himself to you.

However, your thighs burn for another reason entirely; muscles straining with the effort of fucking Wooyoung into this mindless stupor. You slow the roll of your hips, giving yourself a breather while enjoying Wooyoung’s pitiful whines of protest maybe a little too much.

“But this is not enough for you, is it?” you hum, rubbing your hand over the small of Wooyoung’s sweat-slicked back. “You want Sannie’s cock too, to have that clever mouth used again like it should be.”

San lets out a raspy chuckle as Wooyoung nods frantically. “I don’t know, baby, our Wooyoungie looks like he might be at his limit. You sure he can take us both?”

Wooyoung squirms in frustration. “I can, Sannie, you know I can,” he snivels. “Please, want it, want it, San-ah—!”

He jolts when San smacks his ass again, whining loudly as he burrows his face into the bed.

With that, San moves away from you, his fingers digging into the curve of your rear as he goes. Wooyoung moans weakly when San sits on his knees in front of him, clasping Wooyoung’s chin between thumb and index finger to lift his head.

“Then prove it,” San says coolly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Show us what a good cockslut you are.”

Wooyoung shivers at the dismissive tone of San’s challenge, like he isn’t expecting all that much. He shakily pushes himself up on his hands, biting down a groan at how your strap rubs up against his insides. One last glance over his shoulder, while he still can, drinking in the sight of you with hungry, tear-filled eyes.

And a glorious sight you are, shiny drops of sweat beading down the valley of your chest, heaving from exertion. Both of you completely enraptured by this new experience, the new sensations that come with it. The ribbed dildo feels amazing, better than Wooyoung dared hope — but far more than that, he is on the brink because it’s you, you fucking that toy into him.

You catch his gaze, biting your lip at the contact. “Remember, Woo,” you say, voice tight, “remember the signal if I’m too rough on you.”

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse chuckle, giving you the widest, dirtiest grin he can muster. Too rough? On him? Fuck, how are you blowing his back out and still manage to be this adorable? “Sure, will do,” he rasps, tapping San’s thigh in demonstration of the nonverbal sign.

San grasps onto Wooyoung’s chin again, yanking him back. He taps the head of his cock against Wooyoung’s cheek, leaving a trail of precum, exactly where your strap smeared saliva across his face earlier.

“C’mon, Woo,” San says, still giving him that unimpressed look, the one that makes Wooyoung squirm without fail, “do you want this cock down your throat or not?”

Wooyoung’s breath instantly shallows, his jaw relaxing on instinct. He groans in bliss as San nudges the flushed tip past his swollen lips, sinking home. Your hips move in a slow roll and Wooyoung lets himself get swept away by the rhythm, taking San deeper inch by inch.

His mind goes blank, lost in the toe-curling slide of your strap, the hefty weight of San on his tongue — fuck, he loves sucking that fat cock. How the thickness of it strains his jaw, but within manageable levels after all the countless practise he’s enjoyed. He’s proud of that, how his gag reflex has faded to a mere afterthought, only brought back to the forefront when he’s caught off guard (and even then, it’s good). Proud of the cracks in San’s unaffected facade that Wooyoung breaks through with nothing but the tightness of his throat and his skilful tongue.

Right now though, you’re making it harder for Wooyoung to use that tongue to its full potential. Every rough thrust jostles him, pushes San’s dick deeper without any room for skill, reducing Wooyoung to nothing but a cocksleeve to be used. (San does not seem to mind, his groans low and breathy.)

He whimpers as you slam into him without mercy, his aching cock slapping against his stomach with a lewd smacking sound, drawing sharp jolts of pleasure. You’ve well and truly honed in on his sweet spot now, pressure building up and up and up until Wooyoung feels like he’s clawing at the ceiling. San’s hand rests on Wooyoung’s throat, squeezing with only a gentle pressure to keep him steady as he’s split open from two ends; an overwhelming barrage of sensations that goes beyond feeling ‘full’. Wooyoung feels whole.

Desperately he moans around San’s cock with a muffled, pathetic sob, the world blurring out of focus. One brush of a hand against his throbbing dick and he’d be done for, he’s sure of it; but despite cumming untouched earlier, now that edge stays just out of reach. Trapping Wooyoung at the height of pleasure with nowhere to come down.

He’s whimpering, body trembling under the unending onslaught. Too much, some might cry out — but not Wooyoung, never Wooyoung.

No, for him it is perfect. He stopped believing in ‘too much’ long ago, after he heard enough of those two words in his life. That he talks too much, wants too much, gives too much, is too much.

But here, between these two hearts, he is exactly right.

Addled memories flood through his dizzied thoughts, physical pleasure blurring into intense emotion.

With San, Wooyoung knew it from the very start; an unshakeable certainty within moments of their first meeting. San has always embraced his chaotic energy, soaking it up like a sponge and giving back to Wooyoung in equal measure. Making it easy for Wooyoung to throw himself into their relationship with what some might call reckless abandon — but San never dropped him. He is never too much for San.

Wooyoung had been too much for you, once. Crashing head-first into your boundaries back when he kissed you; pushing too hard because he did not want to be pushed away. But it only brought you closer, seeking out the places where you can meet each other; where Wooyoung can be himself without compromise without compromising you. Where Wooyoung can taste the word ‘love’ in his mouth and see you light up with joy, the same joy that you and San give him in turn.

No, he’ll never be too much for you either. He knows that now.

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse, garbled cry at a hard hit of your cock against his prostate, breaking him out of his hazy thoughts and right back to the present, back in the middle of your and San’s heated attention and affection. Right where Wooyoung thrives.

Fuck, he’s light-headed. He feels like he’s floating, vaguely hears praise drift to him from both sides. Good boy. Taking it so well. That’s what those pretty holes are good for. He’s drowning in it, barely feeling his body anymore, only the pleasure buzzing through him.

He slowly realises San’s fingers are tangled through his hair, helping his head stay up.

Wooyoung moans indulgently, blinking up at him. He can only imagine what a mess San is looking at; Wooyoung can feel the wetness of spittle and tears trailing down his cheeks, his chin, even his throat. Fuck, he wishes you could see it too, what a fucking pathetic wreck he is for you both.

San makes a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a groan as he looks down on Wooyoung. “Cockdrunk,” he says, his grin sharp. “Completely wasted. Can you even handle my load or are you too fucked out to swallow?”

Immediately Wooyoung whines in protest. He can do it, he can do anything for you and San. Doesn’t want San to pull out, doesn’t want you to stop moving, not yet not now not ever. He swallows around San’s cockhead, messily lavishing his tongue against the twitching shaft.

You giggle breathily at Wooyoung’s enthusiasm, squeezing at his hip. “Now San, don’t underestimate our Wooyoungie,” you playfully admonish him. “This is what he’s made for. He can take it.”

Yes yes yes. Agreement sings through Wooyoung as he humps back against you in gratitude. You get it. You understand.

San grunts at the stifled moans around his cock, Wooyoung’s increased efforts causing him to hiss sharply through gritted teeth. He can’t last much longer, his fingers tightening in Wooyoung’s hair, breath going pitchy as his hips jerk.

Wooyoung groans when San’s cock twitches in his mouth, hot sticky ropes of cum hitting his tongue. Maybe he is a little too fucked out after all, some seed trickling down his chin as he struggles to gulp down every drop with lewd, wet noises.

San pants harshly as he slips out, pumping himself with quick strokes to wrest as much as he can for Wooyoung to take. Finally he wipes the tip on Wooyoung's glossy lips, then nudges him to turn his head and give you a proper view. Your sharp moan lances through Wooyoung's painfully hard cock — but distress takes over when you slow down.

So close, he was so close oh god you can’t stop now. Wooyoung sobs pitifully, wiggling his hips as he babbles his wretched pleas.

Your cunt throbs at his desperation, his face flushed red and shiny with bodily fluids. Equal parts guilt and arousal sear through you at the unintentional denial, but fuck your thighs are burning. (Today has given you a whole new appreciation for San's muscle strength.)

“Shh, it’s okay, just want you to ride me,” you hum, stroking his quivering thigh. “Wanna see that beautiful face when you cum, can you do that for me, Wooyoungie?”

He lets out another choked up sob but nods frantically, whimpering when you pull out to lay down. Shakily he moves to sit in your lap, helped by San’s steady hold. Wooyoung whines in relief when you fill him up again, after a fresh coating of lube. He groans at the new angle, throwing his head back.

You rub your hands up and down his thighs, letting your eyes wander over him; his sweat-slicked torso, the veins pulsing in his shaky arms, cock leaking against his stomach. You lightly wrap your fingers around it, causing Wooyoung to stutter out a surprised “Ah—!”

“Go ahead, Woo. Show me,” you tell him breathily, bucking your hips up. “Show me how badly you want to cum on my cock.”

Wooyoung does not need to be told twice. He leans back to brace his hands on your legs, arching his back. The roll of his hips starts slow, easing himself into it, but soon you can see his lithe muscles rippling as he bounces in your lap. There is no restraint in him, his face contorted with pleasure as he whines, gasping every time you buck your hips to meet his. He looks utterly deprived. He is perfect.

San curls up next to you on his side, sluggish in the wake of his own orgasm. He pecks at your shoulder, tracing lazy circles on your stomach, close to where Wooyoung fucks into your hand as he moves. “You haven’t cum yet, have you?” San murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“N-not yet,” you admit, “but—”

But fuck, you are getting close.

It’s been a long, slow build-up with the base of the strap rubbing against your cunt; not always catching your clit just right, but you have a bit more control now that you’re laying down, to wiggle or guide Wooyoung’s hips. More than that, you are so deeply mesmerised by Wooyoung that his pleasure might as well be your own. Fucking himself seemingly tireless even though he’s gasping for breath, surely reaching his limit. His whiny sobs sear through you, your own breath catching in your throat as you slowly, inevitably, begin to tilt over.

San lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, and slings an arm over you to leisurely play with one of your tits. The light pecks on your shoulder turn to insistent, open-mouthed kisses as San sucks wet bruises into your skin. You bite down a whine as he thumbs at your nipple, your hips bucking up harder into Wooyoung. You move your hand quicker, stubborn to drag Wooyoung right down with you.

“God, look at you,” you groan, straining to get the words out, “look so pretty, crying on my cock.”

Wooyoung makes a strangled noise. “’Cause— ‘cause it feels so good,” he chokes out. “Y-you—” but whatever else he wants to say is drowned out by breathless, high-pitched moans.

You use your last shreds of energy to piston the strap harder into Wooyoung, jostling him in your lap. His body bows forward, hands scrambling to grab onto your shoulders, almost knocking San in the face. San nips at Wooyoung’s wrist, but easily readjusts by latching his mouth onto your breast instead.

You tense up, hips stuttering as you curse under your breath — and then San’s teeth sink into the soft, sensitive flesh, biting down. The pain jolts through you like a catalyst, your peak rushing at you; you try to stave it off, try to get Wooyoung there first, but that only makes it chase you faster. The force of it rips through your nerve endings, your nails digging into Wooyoung’s waist as you finally topple over with a ragged cry. Your toes curl almost painfully, body trembling as white-hot sparks fray your senses.

Your eyes try to squeeze shut but you force them open, gasping breathless moans as you stare up at Wooyoung; intent on seeing him succumb before you can fully come down from your own high.

His abdominal muscles flex with tension, his thighs clenching as he threatens to lose his rhythm. You shakily pick up the pace with your hand, sliding over the slick length of his cock. Wooyoung keens and weakly ruts against your strap, keeping constant pressure on your still-twitching cunt. San’s fingers wrap around yours, helping you to keep moving while you squirm from the relentless waves rippling through you.

Wooyoung lets out a throttled whine, doubling over as he unravels, spilling a hot and sticky mess all over your fingers and stomach. Your grip on him weakens, but San forces you to keep moving, milking Wooyoung for everything he’s got until he’s shaking uncontrollably on top of you, sobbing out pathetic whimpers.

When San finally takes mercy and lets go, Wooyoung crumples on top of you with a tired moan. The dildo slips out as he burrows himself in your arms, uncaring for the watery strings of cum smeared between your bodies.

“Oh fuck… that was… ‘s was fucking amazing…” he mumbles, nuzzling against your chest.

You giggle tiredly, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yes? Did we make a good investment into our future with this one?”

“Mhn…” Wooyoung makes a vague noise of affirmation. He seems about ready to pass out, but there’s still a dazed smile on his face when San tips up his chin. “Good, yeah…”

San’s lips curl into a fond smile, chuckling when Wooyoung grouses at being manoeuvred just enough so San can take the harness off of you. He sets the glistening dildo aside for later cleaning, then gives your worn-out cunt an affectionate pat. You whine even at the light touch, but sigh contently when his warm hands massage your sore thighs. Fuck, you’re going to have one hell of a muscle-ache tomorrow.

San grins at your pained expression. “Wanted to see Wooyoung ride you, hm?” he teases. “No other reason for changing that up, I’m sure.”

“What are you insinuating, Choi San?” you grumble, half-heartedly rolling your eyes.

He laughs, continuing to work your aching muscles. “Nothing, nothing! Just… are you sure you don’t want to join me at the gym sometime?”

You make a face at him, at the same time that Wooyoung pipes up, “Nu-uh. If you need an extra workout, you can just fuck me some more.”

“…That does sound like a lot more fun than a gym membership,” you accede. “Sorry, San.”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t argue with that. C’mon, let’s get that mess cleaned up,” he says, nudging Wooyoung to roll off of from you with a groan.

You take the wet-wipes that San offer you, and clean the dried crusts of cum on Wooyoung’s stomach. His eyes are half-lidded and he hums weakly when you stroke his cheek; you suspect he’ll doze off for real soon.

“Hm, would be nice if we could find a place that has a bathtube,” you sigh wistfully as you start to clean yourself, yearning for the comfort of a warm soak right now. “Though I guess it’d be hard to find one that fits all three of us.”

“I like that,” San smiles while he tugs a blanket over Wooyoung to make sure he doesn’t get cold. “We’ll make it work somehow. We always do.”

“Stacked on top of each other?” you suggest playfully.

San pouts. “I’d feel bad for whoever is at the bottom,” he says, utterly earnest — and you’d tease him for it, if your heart didn’t burst with affection at his simple, straightforward consideration.

Wooyoung, however, has no such hangups. “Then it has to be you, I guess,” he mumbles with a tired grin.

San’s pout intensifies into a sulk, but his face instantly softens when Wooyoung tugs at his and your wrists, wanting you closer. Soon Wooyoung is snuggled up in the middle, embraced from both sides. He groans happily at the gentle kisses San presses against his neck, the featherlight brush of your fingertips over his cheek, your arm slung lazily around him.

You catch San’s eyes while Wooyoung dozes off, warmth glowing in your chest at his dimpled smile. He reaches over Wooyoung to rest his hand on your waist, always in need of those little physical threads of connection. You shift your leg to weave another thread, hooking your ankle around his shin. The three of you fitting together perfectly.

“Come on, go talk to him then,” Wooyoung sighs at you in exasperation, one hand on his hip, the other holding a spatula as he waves you off. “You’ve been nosy about him for ages, now you got your chance and you’re in here distracting me instead? No ma’am, get your fine ass out there.”

“But—”

Wooyoung gives you no time for excuses, grabbing your shoulders from behind and forcibly ushering you out of the kitchen, to the living area. To San, and to the guy San’s talking to.

The ever-illusive, long awaited friend, finally back in town.

Jeong Yunho.

Honestly, you don’t even know why you’re nervous about this. It’s not like Yunho is the first close friend of San and Wooyoung that you’ve met; you’ve even talked to him before! Just over voice chat, saying ‘hi’ when San or Wooyoung are gaming with him, but still!

Wooyoung’s photographs have even prepared you for his ridiculously handsome face (seriously, why are all of their friends like this?!), but you’re still caught off guard by his physical presence. It’s not just his height, though that’s definitely a factor. Just something about the way he stands in the room, his posture relaxed with an easy confidence. Really, Yunho shouldn’t be intimidating; he oozes kindness and reliability, the type of guy who personally makes sure you get home safe after having one drink too many at the bar.

Maybe it’s the glances he’s been casting your way. Something in his thoughtful expression makes you feel like he’s carefully taking your measure. Seizing up if you’re right for his friends.

…Or maybe it’s not that deep, and you simply are anxious about making a good impression. After all, this is the guy who helped San to work through his insecurities, and even introduced him to Wooyoung. Without him, you’d never have ended up in this cosy arrangement with them.

While you cautiously go up to him and San, Wooyoung calls out from the kitchenette.

“Oi, Sannie, can you help me out with something!”

Oh, that bastard.

You look over your shoulder to fire a glare at Wooyoung, but he just grins back at you. You roll your eyes, sigh out those nerves, and go over to Yunho. San gives you a wink as he walks past, and also gives your ass a light smack. Yeah. Figures.

Yunho’s big brown eyes shine with curiosity as you approach him.

“So. You’re San and Wooyoung’s… friend, right?” he says, with the slightly hesitant tone of someone who knows he’s dealing with a square hole but only has round pegs to try and fit in there. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Yeah, same,” you smile back at him, internally cursing Wooyoung into the special circle of hell reserved for backstabbing traitors. “And ‘friend’ is not inaccurate, no,” you allow, trying for a shy grin. “We’re still workshopping it out! The latest idea was that I call the guys my ‘umbrellas’, but… yeah. Maybe a little more time in the workshop for that one.”

“Umbrellas?” Yunho blinks in confusion, but it only takes a split second before understanding breaks out on his face. “Ahh, got it — ‘Woosan’.” He giggles, hiding his mouth behind his hand. You can’t lie; it’s pretty dang cute. “San came up with that one, didn’t he?”

“He did!” you giggle with Yunho, the shared laugh helping you to relax. “Was real proud of it too!”

With the discovery of a common ground between you (a penchant for lovingly poking fun at San and Wooyoung), you loosen up and fall into light conversation. His laugh is easy and his jokes are playful, and it’s soon obvious to you why the guys are so attached to him.

Apparently Yunho is coming to a similar conclusion about you, eyeing you with a thoughtful expression.

“You know, to be honest I was surprised to hear San and Wooyoung wanted to try something with a third. Really surprised,” he chuckles awkwardly, scratching his cheek. “San was pretty clear he wanted a closed relationship. But… yeah. I can see it. Makes sense.”

He nods, and something has softened in his eyes while he talked. Suddenly you have the distinct impression that you weren’t wrong for feeling like Yunho was taking your measure.

A small smile curves around your lips at Yunho’s simple observation, your eyes glancing to the kitchenette where San is ‘helping’ Wooyoung by stealing food and getting in his way. “I mean, none of us really planned for me to stick around like this,” you point out, feeling oddly timid. “We didn’t plan for any of this to shake out this way. It just… did.”

Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “Yeah, that’s just how things go sometimes, isn’t it,” he says, his smile crooked. “Well, whatever you end up calling this, they seem real happy with how it’s going. If they’re your umbrellas, what’d that make you? Their parka?” he teases.

“Oh hell no!” you splutter. “Veto, veto! Don’t you dare put that idea into their heads, I’d rather make do without any labels at all, thankyouverymuch!”

“Alright, I won’t!” Yunho giggles again at your indigence, round cheeks lifted by his laugh. “Label or no label, whichever way works for you, right? And clearly this works.”

You glance at San and Wooyoung again, bubbles of warmth popping in your chest at the sight of them. San has abandoned all pretence at being helpful, his chest pressed against Wooyoung’s back and arms wrapped around his waist, trying to smooch him while Wooyoung is completely focused on the food.

San is the one who sees you watching them first, his cheeks dimpling at you in a soft smile. Wooyoung quickly notices San’s attention wandering, but his vaguely offended expression fades when he catches your eye, replaced by a cheeky grin. (Ugh fine, yes his stupid little plan worked.)

“Yeah, it works,” you say quietly to Yunho, feeling San and Wooyoung’s affection wrap around you even all the way from the other side of the room. It really does.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober day 9: Fall Road Trip

Logan Howlett x f!reader

WC: 1.3k

a/n: this one is so sweet I literally got a headache writing it (wither that or the fact that i haven't had any water today). If you liked it please reblog so other people can check it out, I'll see y'all later for day 10.

You were peacefully reading on the leather couch In your room when Logan opened the door without knocking and threw your wool coat and scarf at you.

“We’re going for a drive, get ready.” And he was gone as quick as he appeared. This wasn’t unusual for Logan, for as long as you’d known him he’d been a man of action. 

Instead of using his words to show he cared he did things, like learn and make your favorite coffee for you in the mornings, or putting Anna’s favorite blanket in the dryer for her when she was in one of her moods, he made sure we always had Charles’ favorite tea stocked and would even bring dinner to Hank if he was too absorbed in his work and forgot to come eat with everyone. 

Even as a teacher, he was always more into hands-on learning than lectures. It’s just who he is. 

So you weren’t surprised at the sudden and unprompted plan change. In fact, you were kind of looking forward to seeing what he had in store for the two of you.

You got ready as quickly as you could and made your way outside to the (admittedly ostentatious) driveway. Logan was leaning against what used to be a gorgeous fountain but was now just a crumbling hunk of stone. Several of the older students had thought it a great idea to see whose power could mess the thing up worse and suffice it to say that the boy who could produce seismic waves when he clapped won the bet. Charles was upset but you had pointed out that he was the one who opened a school for mutants where they didn’t have to hide, and it was a well-known fact that children make stupid choices sometimes.

Despite the fact that the fountain no longer worked and looked quite a bit rougher than any other part of the grounds, it was still one of your favorite places to go. Maybe it was because it was the closest part of the grounds to the outside world, or maybe it was the sense of beauty that you found within the destruction. A beauty that was only being added to by the man leaning against the rubble.

“Are we taking your bike?” You asked as you got closer.

“No, my bike can barely hold me let alone the two of us.”

“I suppose that is what you get for having metal bones.” 

“Ha. Ha.” Logan drawled. “We’re taking the truck it works better for what we’re doing.”

“And what would that be?” You asked trying to keep up with his strides as he made his way to the vehicle.

“Some cute shit. You like that right?” He turned his head to look back at you.

“I guess?” You responded.

He just nodded and kept walking. Eventually pulling open the door for you and offering you his hand so you could boost yourself up into the cab.

He rounded the back of the truck, quickly taking a look at the stuff in the bed. When he was satisfied he pulled down the cover and climbed behind the wheel.

The first several minutes were quite, you gazed out the window at the colors blurring past you. The trees doing that wonderful color changing thing that they did this time of year.

The reds oranges and yellows flowed easily in and out of each other, creating a vision of heatless fire that danced in your eyes. Every once in a while you’d pass an open field and you’d be able to look out upon the expanse of grass.

“Cows!” You yelled as you jammed your finger in the glass of the window. Pointing them out to Logan and grinning ear to ear.

He just chuckled and moved his hand to rest on your jean-clad thigh. Running his thumb up and down your leg while his other hand moved to the top of the wheel and his eyes stayed firmly on the road.

Your smile got smaller but no less real and you moved your own hand to his, intertwining your fingers together and resting your hands on your leg. 

Time both flew by and inched along, words occasionally being traded between the two of you. But for the most part, you just sat and looked and savored the time you had with Logan. Soft radio music in the background is the soundtrack to an afternoon you will not soon regret.

The sun started its descent into the horizon, but Logan did not turn back.

“Lo? Where are we going?” Admittedly you probably should have asked that sooner but you trusted Logan with your life and didn’t think it was that important.

“I told you, cute shit.” Was his complete answer

“That’s not a place, that’s a thing and it’s not even a specific thing.” You shot back.

“Trust me, sweets.” He used the hand still resting in yours to give you a quick squeeze. You squeezed back and took a deep breath. Settling back into your seat and contenting yourself with more window watching. 

That became more difficult when the sun fully escaped your grasp and all were bathed in the inkyness of the sky. Only the truck’s headlights and the dim glow of the radio buttons shine in your vision.

Not too long passed before Logan turned off onto a dirt road, only a single wooden post with a sign your couldn’t read marking its location. 

The truck wobbled and rocked on the uneven terrain tossing your gently back and forth in your seat. The movement ceased and Logan put the truck in park. He threw open his door and walked to the truckbed, pushing up the cover and moving some things around back there.

You simply sat and looked at your surroundings, able to actually get a good look now that you weren’t racing past at 80 mph. It was hard to see in the dark but you were able to make out a post fence with some chicken wire threading through it. You could see the silhouette of trees on each side of you and what you think was a building a little ways away.

Logan rounded the truck to your door and opened it for you once again. Helping you out the same way he helped you in. He led you by your hand to the trunk and when you saw what he had laid out before you you softly gasped.

He had fully decked out the bed of his truck with pillows and blankets, there was an inflated air mattress that he had even covered in a fitted sheet. He had brought a cooler with his and your favorite drinks and some small bags of snacks. 

“Cute shit, I get it now.” You say and turn to Logan who is still holding your hand but trying to look as aloof as possible.

“Yeah, well. Wanted to spend time with you.”

“If you wanted to spend time with me, we could have done that at the Mansion.” you pointed out.

“You like cute shit.”

“I do. I also like you.” You replied.

He says nothing, just moves into your space, and holds his unoccupied hand out for you, nodding his head at the truck bed. I like you too. His actions yell. 

You take his hand and he helps you into the cozy den he’s made. He follows you up and careful not to crush you he lays down and pulls you into his side. He points out he constellations he knows and pretends not to know the ones you point out to him back. 

The two of you fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, looking out into the sky and saying nothing and everything all at the same time.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (20)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Despite everything, she found herself feeling happy. Part Warning: 18+ explicit content (male and female oral, creampie, overstimulation, Spence is kind of a dom but is still sweet) A/n: this is just 4k words of pure smut, I hope you enjoy this last part of the series :')

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

"Spence, you need to open the door!" She whispered harshly. His response was to press himself further into her, relentlessly sucking on her neck as he pinned her against his apartment door.

The road to his place had been filled with sexual tension, each passing moment heightening the desire that simmered beneath the surface. When he mentioned taking her home, she didn't expect it to be his apartment.

"It's closer from here," he had said when he pulled her out of the planetarium, practically dragging her towards his car. "Do you mind?"

Of course, she didn't. In honesty, she would have let him have his way with her even if he had taken her to the nearest restroom, or even in the confines of his car. She was too aroused to think properly that at least three times she had initiated some desperate contact throughout their journey to his place.

The first one unfolded at a red light as she seized the opportunity, tugging him towards her before shoving her tongue in his mouth. The impatient blare of car horns stopped them from doing anything further. Then the next initiation came as a subtle yet provocative touch when she traced his leg, inching closer to his crotch. He threw her a look as he took a sharp intake of breath.

Although the third initiation wasn't exactly directed at him, it still held the same amount of torture. When she gracefully slipped her fingers right between her thighs, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. He watched as the speedometer increased rapidly. Even when chasing Unsubs he had never driven this fast before.

And now that they were finally inches away from his apartment, he couldn't wait any longer.

"Spence..." she giggled, but then her laughter died down when his hand traveled between her legs. "Let's go inside."

Without a second glance, he retrieved his keys from his pocket and thrust them into her hands. She huffed in amusement and gently pushed him, turning to face the door, but then she felt him pressing against her back as she struggled to unlock his door. "Baby..."

He groaned at the sweet sound of her voice calling him by the intimate nickname, realizing it was the first time she had used it. She them felt his hand circling her hips, his fingers starting to rub her clit over her dress. She was beyond grateful no one else was currently in the hallway to witness what was happening.

When she finally managed to get the key into the lock, a wave of relief washed over her. Without wasting any more time, she swung the door open to his apartment, and Spencer, right behind her, practically pushed her inside before slamming the door shut behind them.

"Take off your underwear," he ordered, pausing only to lock his front door. Too stunned to argue, she began inching up her dress but then he was suddenly dropping on his knees before her, grabbing the hem of her panties and yanking them down her legs impatiently.

His hands roughly shoved her hips into the wall before he lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder. Seconds later his face was between her thighs, his tongue greedily lapping up her arousal. Her head rolled back into the wall in astonishment, both hands coming to grip fistfuls of his hair.

"Oh, shit," she moaned out, hands gripping his curly locks tighter.

His mouth shifted while two of his fingers slipped inside of her. Her hips jerked and a long whine of his name spilled from her lips as he pressed his tongue to her clit. His fingers began working in and out of her tightening walls once just as his tongue flicked over her clit, seconds before he pressed against the swollen, aching bud to lick a stripe over her flesh.

"Fuck, don't stop," she cried out, voice hoarse and desperate. Spencer had no intentions of stopping as he sucked her clit even harder, his fingers driving into her faster, earning every sinful noise that left her lips.

Her eyes cast downwards only to see her dress covering the view between her thighs, so she grabbed onto the fabric and in one swift motion lifted it over her head before throwing it to the floor. Her hands found their way to on his hair again when she could finally see him at the same time his eyes glanced up to see her perky breasts on display. The satisfied groan that left his lips traveled along her skin and her head fell back as she rolled her hips against his face.

Her walls began to contract around his fingers, thighs tightening against his head. His tongue remained diligent in circling her clit, lapping up her juices to taste every last drop. She could even hear how wet she had become from the sloppy noises flooding the room, mixing with her whimpers and the groans filling his chest.

She was uncontrollably shaking by now and with one final deep breath, the pleasure consumed her entire body. His fingers slipped out of her to hold her hips in place as she cane undone for the second time tonight, but his tongue continued to work against her clit through every second of the bliss.

The first wave of pleasure turned into breathy moans, overly sensitive to his constant torture, yet he didn't pull away. He kept on tasting her until she could hardly take it anymore and her hands dived for his head to push him away.

He finally pulled away, and all that was left were broken breaths and shaking legs. He was satisfied with himself, giving her flesh a rubdown with his palm flat against her skin, soothing the tension while she tried to steady herself as he placed her leg on his shoulder back to the floor. When she attempted to kick off her heels, a firm hand wrapped around her ankle.

"Keep them on," he whispered, his voice carrying a command that sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't do anything but oblige as she watched him get on his feet before she felt the warmth of his lips taking hers.

She could taste herself as his mouth pressed desperately on hers, nibbling on her bottom lip until they were parting for him. He effortlessly slipped his tongue in her mouth and she couldn't stop herself from whimpering as her hands roamed along his body, seeking more of his skin.

So she pushed off his suit jacket to the floor, then tugged off his tie, and when her fingers hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, he slightly pulled away, resting his foreheads against hers. "We—" he sucked in a sharp breath when he felt her undoing his pants. "We need a safe word."

Her movements faltered for a moment before she continued to pull out his shirt under his pants, and that too went to the floor. "What?"

"I-I don't think I can hold myself back." He then gasped as she slipped a hand inside his underwear, wrapping her fingers around his girth. He closed his eyes, jaw going slack as she continued to run her palm along his length. "A safe word... please."

His plea hung in the air, a vulnerable request amidst the rising intensity. Her fingers hesitated for a moment as she saw the conflict in his eyes, the battle between restraint and desire.

After a slight pause, her eyes scanned around the room before they settled on the chessboard on his coffee table, and finally whispered, "How about Chess?"

An amused smile played on his lips. "Chess?"

"Take it or leave it," she laughed. She then rendered him speechless by dropping to her knees and tugging his pants down. "Besides, I'm not going to use it anyway."

He was caught off guard by her bold move, his eyes widening slightly. A mixture of surprise and arousal flickered in his gaze as she held him gently by the base as she examined him, her eyes focused on the clear drop of wetness trickling out from his tip. It was unreal how gorgeous he was.

A groan tore itself from him as he laid his eyes on her taking him into her mouth while she held his gaze, making him pay attention to every inch of his cock disappearing slowly in between her lips. His mouth fell open as she worked him deeper, tongue working to coat him in spit, cheeks hollowing in to add suction every time she pulled him out.

His brows screwed together, his mouth going slack. She gasped off him, and he gasped with her, sounding almost pained as she teased him with her tongue, running it from root to tip and back. He threw his head back only to whip it down seconds later, unable to keep his eyes away from her, body shuddering each time she swiped her tongue from his base to his swollen tip.

He choked on a groan when she took him back into her mouth, pressing him into her throat. He sounded almost alarmed as she took him down her throat over and over again as if she was trying to push her limits. She continued to suck him, but then she slowed down when she sensed his doubt, the self-restraint lingering in his head.

"Let go, baby. I'm right here. You can use me," she said in between suckling and messily kissing the tip of his cock, hauling him to the edge. "Please."

There was a moment of hesitation, a silent battle within him before his resolve seemed to waver. His hands, which had been clenched by his sides, flew out to tangle in her hair, holding on with a vice grip. She moaned around his cock, encouraging and maybe a bit patronizing, even as she wrapped her lips around him again.

His hips started to thrust into her open mouth now, mindlessly chasing that familiar sensation as his eyes locked with hers; his pupils blown wide, his mind empty but for the pleasure coursing through his body. He started slow, pushing and pulling his hips, and groaned at the feeling of her tongue moving around his length.

Then between the grunts, moans, and whimpers leaving him, his pace sped up as he forced himself into her mouth. She was now gagging around his cock, spit trailing down her chin, tears slipping from her eyes as she gazed up at him. She felt the way his muscles tensed up like his whole body was going to combust on the spot before he quickly pulled himself out of her mouth with a wet pop.

"Come here." Ever the gentleman, he helped her with gentle hands as she got up on her feet and before she could think about what came next, he muttered, "Wrap your legs around my waist."

"What?"

A squeal left her lips as he abruptly lifted her off the ground and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him, her arms going around his shoulders. "Spencer! What's gotten into you?"

He simply answered her with a smile before making his way down to his bedroom. "I blame you for this."

She stifled a laugh. "You're blaming me for acting like a wild animal?"

"Is it... too much?"

"Are you kidding? I'm enjoying this side of you," she confessed, clinging onto him as she kissed the side of his neck. "Please continue."

His chest shook at the same time his laughter filled her ears. But the amusement in his voice disappeared as fast as it appeared when they finally entered his room before he placed her on the edge of his bed. "Get on your knees and face the other way."

She didn't have to be told twice, scrambling on the bed as her knees sank deeper into the mattress. She felt him push down hard against her and she obliged, lowering her face and upper body to the bed as his other hand remained holding her hips up in the air.

A hand landed on her ass with a sharp smack before he gripped a firm handful of it. His cock swiped back and forth along her folds, gathering her wetness, letting it coat around his tip. He moaned out a deep, pleasure-filled noise that reverberated around the bedroom as he lined up the tip of his cock at her entrance.

"I..." His mouth fell open when he watched the way her walls stretched around him, clamping around his cock as if she was swallowing him inside. "I really don't think I can hold myself—"

"Just fuck me already," she ordered, bending over the bed and pressing her ass back into him. "I don't care."

He abruptly plunged inside of her.

"Fuck, yes," she whimpered, arching her back. Both of his hands gripped her hips as he began to thrust into her. Her eyes rolled back, her eyelids dropping closed as she fisted the sheets tighter in her hands.

"You feel so good," he growled out behind her. "So perfect."

Shifting her head along the bed, she glanced back at him. She couldn't fight the way her cunt tightened around his cock at the sight of him using her body as he pleased. It was still hard to believe he was the same man who lacked experience when she first met him. Yet after all the times they had spent together tangled in pleasure, she could see the increase of confidence every time he touched her.

A particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her perfectlyand she moaned out loudly, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

"Right there, baby," she begged him, squirming her hips against him for more.

With her cheek pressed to the mattress, she focused on the way he looked. His hair was a sweaty, mussed mess on his head, and there was a very obvious sheen of sweat glistening along his forehead. He was grunting and breathing heavily as his fingers continued to dig into her hips. Then another loud smack echoed throughout the room as one of his hands harshly landed on her ass. He slowly released her hips before he grabbed her by the arms, hauling her back.

She moaned loudly in response, her hips bucking eagerly into him as he fucked her like a man possessed. He plunged his cock so deep inside of her that her toes began to curl inside her heels—dear god, she forgot she was still wearing her shoes. She wondered if he realized how much bacteria could stick on his sheets, but with the way he was thrusting relentlessly into her, she was sure the only thought he had at this moment was their connected bodies moving in sync.

His grip on her arm tightened to the line bordering between pain and pleasure just as his thrusts sped up to a pace faster. It felt so good she hadn't even noticed the way the pleasure built until it was nearly unbearable.

"I-I'm gonna—"

A scream ripped out of her as she felt her body shaking. Her orgasm hit her so suddenly and she didn't resist it, letting it wash over her and sear through every muscle. Her body writhed and she thrust her hips against his, grinding herself through her release despite him not slowing down. A final gasp filled the room, signaling the pleasure overwhelming her body, before he let go of her arms and she flopped back onto the bed.

Her orgasm slowed down to a stop and she took a deep breath before another loud and unrestricted moan released through her exhale as he flipped her onto her back. He smiled crookedly at her, cupping the backs of her knees, crudely pinning them to her chest as he suddenly stuffed himself back inside.

With her completely pinned beneath him, she couldn't do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure. His eyes were locked on the way she was stretched so wide around his girth. Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, and for his meticulous nature, yet he found the messy tangle of their bodies didn't bother him in the least. The fresh white cream coating around his cock only fueled his pleasure.

It was warm, wet, and fucking messy.

"T-Touch yourself," he choked on his words, voice breaking as they came out. He was so close that it hurts. "Play with yourself for me."

Her hand flew down to do as she was told without a second thought. It only took a few, quick circles around her swollen clit before she was coming again, her heels kicking helplessly in the air. She had lost count of how many orgasms she had tonight, but she gladly accepted it as her back arched off the bed.

Spencer groaned at the sight of her losing herself beneath him. He watched as her fingers continued to rub her clit desperately, forcing herself to come even harder until a gush of liquid squirted around him. It splattered everywhere—across his hips, thighs, and even his chest. It made his eyes roll up into the back of his head before he let his head fall back, his jaw going slack while he let out a loud and deep moan as his orgasm finally washed over him.

His warmth filled her core and she felt his pace slightly falter before he continued with short, aborted little thrusts. His cock pulsed inside of her, each vein had a throbbing heartbeat that struck so painfully good against her walls. But even when his orgasm dissipated, he found himself rutting his hips into the creamy mess dripping out of her cunt.

"S-Spence," she choked out, gasping when his cock hit right into the pleasurable spot inside her. "I-It's too much. I c-can't."

"Just say the word," he panted, almost deliriously, "S-Say the word and I'll stop."

The sensations overwhelmed her, yet despite the intensity, she didn't want him to stop. Her unspoken desire was palpable, and he read her so well that her silence was all he needed to continue.

He released his grip on the back of her thighs as he shifted his weight onto his left arm, his right hand coming up to brush some hair off of her face tenderly before it landed back on the bed. He then leaned down, pressing his lips against hers at the same time her arms wrapped around his neck.

She was trembling and twitching with each one of his thrusts. He felt a pang of remorse for her, he could tell she was tired and overstimulated but he just needed to wring one last orgasm out.

"One more," he cooed sweetly against her lips. "Let me use you once more, can I do that?"

"Y-Yes," she whimpered, nodding her head as her eyelids fluttered in exhaustion.

Lowering onto his elbows, his body molded itself over the top of hers. Her hands were hungrily grasping at his back, attempting to bring him somehow closer as her hips rocked up into his again. She could feel the hard lines of him pressed to every inch of her; she could feel the flex and pull of his muscles with each of his fluid, rhythmic thrusts.

His movements slowed down, each deliberate thrust filled with a different kind of intensity. It wasn't the same urgency as before; instead, it was deliberated and unhurried, and he seemed to savor every moment as if etching it into his memory. He pressed himself further into her, a desperate need evident in the way he sought closeness as if he couldn't get enough of her.

He shifted, lowering his mouth to her neck. He began leaving affectionate, open-mouthed kisses along the length of it. Her back arched underneath him at the feel of him surrounding her so wholly, his cock burying itself repeatedly inside of her. She could feel her peak nearing again, her eyes rolling back as a high-pitched whine fell out of her mouth.

"S-Spence," she cried out, nails beginning to claw at his back now as she clung to him.

"I know," he answered, voice strained himself as he pulled his face away from her neck. "I know, Sweetheart. Let go for me, I got you."

His sweet, affectionate voice sent her over the edge. The way he held her, the way he peppered kisses along her lips, cheek, and neck, revealed a depth of emotion beyond the physical pleasure. It wasn't merely about finding release; it was an intimate exchange of passion. At that moment, she realized how much his feelings had grown, and she burned just as intensely for him.

"Oh, god," she whimpered at his voice, cunt gripping his cock. "Spence, I'm–"

A loud moan cut her off, her right hand releasing its hold on his back, flying up to grip a fistful of his hair. Spencer practically groaned in response, his hips beginning to stutter as her orgasm overtook her once again. She held him tighter, her body quivering beneath him as her moan gradually broke off.

His forehead lowered to hers, his sharp breaths falling over her with each of his rough exhales.

"That's my girl."

She was practically crying by now, caught in the whirlwind of pleasure and affection. She wasn't sure which emotion held a stronger grip, maybe both. But whatever it was, she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, letting it wash over her as she held onto him.

His hips continued their movements, dragging her through the end of her release as he was nearing his own. She could hear the rumbling groan building in his own throat, his face abruptly falling against her chest.

A moment later he choked out a moan at the same time he roughly thrust himself deep inside of her, gasping as he came for the final time. His cock twitched almost painfully inside her as he slowly rocked his hips, wincing at the overstimulation and filling her up at the same time.

He thrust into her a few more times before his hips finally stilled. Her hands began running soothingly along his back as he slipped out of her and then collapsed atop her, still careful to keep from crushing her.

His skin was damp with sweat from his exertion, his shoulders heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He rested his cheek against her chest and a happy noise fell out of his mouth as he relaxed. Her voice was the first thing that broke the silence. It wasn't even a spoken word, but a soft, girly giggle that he turned his head to look at her.

"What?"

She smiled at him. "You called me your girl."

He looked at her in amusement. "Well, aren't you?"

A hint of uncertainty lingered in her expression. "I don't know. Am I?" She sighed, the weight of unspoken emotions in the air. "We just... we haven't talked about this. I didn't want to assume things."

He took a moment, gathering his thoughts, a visible struggle for someone not accustomed to verbalizing deeper feelings. "Y/n," he finally began, the sincerity in his voice cutting through any hesitation. "I risked my life for you. Of course, you're my girl."

Her heart swelled at the gravity of his words, the unspoken commitment hanging in the air. It was a vulnerable moment, and yet, he had chosen to express himself. She gazed into his eyes, finding a depth of sincerity that touched her heart.

"I'm not good with words," he continued, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "But I do care about you. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time."

A warmth spread through her chest at his admission. It was a vulnerable side of him she hadn't seen often, and it made her appreciate the depth of their connection.

"I care about you too," she replied softly, her fingers running along his damp hair. "More than I expected."

His smile was genuine as he turned onto the bed, pulling her against his chest. "Then I guess we're each other's," he declared.

The woman she used to be wouldn't have envisioned herself in this present moment, considering the twists and turns life had taken in the past few months. Despite everything that had happened, a subtle happiness filled her, a sentiment she cherished deeply. Her smile deepened, and a soothing sense of contentment settled between them as she eased into the comfort of his arms.

His words enveloped her like a comforting embrace. It wasn't a grand gesture, but it was genuine, and in that quiet moment, it felt more than enough.

>> EPILOGUE

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taglist #1

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my sister I think she should put down her dog?

(cw: animal death, animal erection mention (I shit you not), suicide mention)

So, I (21nb) have a sister (Amelia, 23f). She’s been living with a friend for the past two years, but she still stops by the house every now and then. Most of the time, it’s just to drop off her dog (Max, toy poodle, 16?m) so that we (Dad and Mom, 63m and 55f, and Jamie, 25f) can dogsit him while she’s at work. We’ve already got three dogs of our own, and because both of my parents work full-time (and Jamie works from home part-time), I’m usually the one who has to take care of him during the day (along with our other dogs).

Unfortunately, because Max is an older dog, he has a lot of health issues. He’s mostly blind, fully deaf, and he has intense separation anxiety. He also bites when he’s startled, which is often because he’s deaf and blind. So most times he’s over he’ll pee in the house because he doesn’t know he’s inside, we’ll have to carefully pick him up and put him in the backyard so he can do his business, then stand outside with him so we can keep him from getting lost in a bush or bumping into a tree or freezing to death because he can’t find his way to the door, then we have to carefully pick him up again to bring him back inside. After that, he’ll often walk around the house while screaming because he can’t see or hear anyone and he thinks we’ve abandoned him. It’s hell to deal with, and I’ve had breakdowns on several different occasions while trying to deal with my other responsibilities and also keep him from screaming 24/7. When he’s not aimlessly wandering and screaming, he’s asleep in his dog bed for most of the day. It’s depressing to watch him so sad and unmotivated. He doesn’t know how to be a dog without her.

Recently, Amelia’s been dropping him off more often and for longer stretches. She works retail, so I can understand that her schedule is fucked most of the time. But she’s also been dropping Max off because he’s so overwhelming for her to deal with. He has the same issues when he’s at home with her, but he’s also like 10 times more energetic when she’s around (and he screams when she’s around but not holding him or giving him attention), which is hard for her to deal with after three days of back to back shifts. She’s called my mom before to ask us to take Max for a night just so she can get some sleep.

The most recent time Amelia dropped Max off, she said that he’d been having painful prolonged erections, and that we’d probably have to wipe his penis down with a damp washcloth to get it to go back in. Now, I’ve had dogs for most of my life, I’m not exactly a stranger to having to wipe down doggy nether regions (hell, I’ve dealt with so many clingons you could call me a starfleet ambassador). But having to do that for a blind dog who’s known to bite when he’s startled? Just the idea of having to hold him while someone else wipes makes me want to cry tears of frustration. I’ve already got two scars from him biting me, I’m not aiming for a third.

With all of his health issues, I’m convinced that it’d be much more humane to put Max down now rather than letting him (and quite frankly, everyone who has to take care of him) suffer indefinitely. But at the same time, he’s Amelia’s rock. She’s struggled with depression and anxiety all her life, and she was even hospitalized for severe suicidal ideation two years ago. She’s told me herself that some days, the only thing that gets her out of bed is having to take care of Max. I’ve had a dog like that before, and when he passed suddenly, it destroyed me for months. I’m worried that if Amelia did have to have Max put down, it might lead to her being hospitalized again, or worse. I can’t keep living with him, but at the same time, I can’t expect her to live without him.

TL;DR: my sister’s dog has many health issues that require special care, and I’m responsible for babysitting him while she’s at work. my sister has mental health issues, and taking care of her dog is both incredibly stressful for her and one of the few sources of joy she has. I believe it’d be more humane for everyone if she puts her dog down, but I also don’t want to take away one of the few things that makes her happy. Would I be the asshole if I told her I think she should put down her dog?

What are these acronyms?

[livinginshambles]

Preview: I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: A Cinderella Story, but Hogwarts. (Enemies? to lovers)

Notes: Sorry I've been mia; i wrote this today, it's all I have so the full fic will probably take a while, not proofread, mistakes blah blah, enjoy!

PS. I am currently no longer making a taglist because I can't keep up with it, I'm really sorry!

Masterlist. Taglist

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

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory.

That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you closed your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what you sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments.

A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard.

“Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eyeroll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step.

To be petty or not to be petty, you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you decided.

The two marauders started to protest.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” It effectively shut them up, and with a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner.

He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air. Of course, levitating stuff wasn't that strange, but it had intrigued him nonetheless.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl who was crying on a bench under the tree, appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams.

(Credits to Professor McGonagall who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.)

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Full fic

[lovemyself97]

✦𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮 ✦ JJK

Summary: You forgot your wallet and that was a good thing. Saved by a small kind gesture from a stranger, but perhaps not so strange. Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x foreign! female reader. Genre: Fluff Warnings: none (Thoughts are in italics) Author: You can read part 2 here , I hope you like it; There's a short playlist for a better reading experience :) Words: 643

Argh, why Lily?

It was 11 p.m. when I looked at the clock on the gray wall, my dear friend, Lily, a Korean woman I've known since I moved to Seoul, convinced me that she deserved a pot of very spicy ramen for her well-deserved promotion at work... the question is:

1-I forgot my wallet,

2-I was threatened with not being able to enter the apartment without the noodles

3-And now a lady was looking at me visibly annoyed.

'Look, I've always paid you on time and...'

'I don't do cash on delivery,' she muttered to end the conversation. Before I could reply again, a packet of snacks and two cartons of banana milk and the money were placed on the counter and only now I realized that we weren't the only ones there.

A young man was wearing a black mask, dressed head to toe in black, holding a helmet in one hand and looking impatient.

'Pass this and the lady's ramen, please,' he said, incredibly politely, making me let out the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. The lady looked speechless for a moment but just nodded and quickly packed up the items.

Before I could thank him, he quickly left, leaving me alone with that lady, 'I'm never coming back here again' I thought as I tried to catch up with the boy.

'Wait.'

The young man, who was already leaving when I reached him, frowned when he looked at me and something glinted in the reflection of the light. I noticed that he had an eyebrow piercing, but something else caught my eye and left me breathless. He had tattoos on one of his hands, which were very familiar to me… As soon as I looked up, he realized that I recognized him, Jeon Jungkook…

I had always been a fan of Jungkook, admiring his powerful voice and his talent on stage. I never imagined I'd have the chance to meet him like this, so casually, and he probably didn't want to deal with a hysterical fan right now, so I took a deep breath and spoke calmly:

'I wanted to say thank you, thank you so much for helping me and if you could just wait a little while until I pick up-'

'No need to thank me,' he said, his expression softening a little. 'I was just in a hurry and thought I could help.' His voice came out low and muffled because of his helmet, he rummaged through the grocery bag he had just made and handed me one of the cartons of banana milk. 'Just be careful on your way home, it's late.'

I couldn't even open the carton of banana milk he gave me. Instead, I kept it carefully, as a special souvenir of that unexpected encounter.

'Do you always come here?' I asked a little awkwardly, but I couldn't help but be curious and wanted the moment to last a little longer, to which he just winked at me before speeding off on his motorcycle and driving away through the empty streets of Seoul.

I looked around as soon as he was out of sight, feeling a silly grin form on my face, did that really happen?, followed by several shrieks but I soon felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, I'm not even dressed up!, I quickly looked at the nearest reflection, a puddle of water, but something else caught my eye, it looked like a wallet, I wonder whose it was?, and my eyes widened as I realized whose it could be.

It seems that he had forgotten his wallet... I went home thinking about how I would return it to its owner and thinking that maybe I would go to that convenience store more often.

I had no idea I'd run into him again sooner than I thought.

[Don't be a silent reader, let me know what you think 💗]

Do not copy. Original work of @lovemyself97 , 2/10/2024 (reblogging always helps! )

[zivazivc]

Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?

Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.

But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.

She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.

So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.

Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.

Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.

They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.

So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)

The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.

It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.

[deskraven]

Thoughts on how the Terrans will cope with Human Family Member Death

(Inspired by @wiltyard's post)

I would assume the Terrans are aware of the life expectancy difference between them and their human family right now. They have witness human death twice, and transformer "death" twice. It would be weird if the parents haven't yet talked to them on the topic of death. In addition, Jawbreaker was well aware that transformer life expectancy is longer than "10 thousand years".

Thoughts on their reactions:

Nightshade takes it really well. They are probably aware of the fact even before they started regarding Alex and Dot as their parents. (I'm going down the path of S1E13's early storyboard, where Nightshade took some time to actually accept the human Maltos as family.) They would continue to take it really well throughout the next 100 years. They would be prepared for their human family's aging and take good care of them. They would do their best on researching human medical problems but at the same time respect their medical decisions. They would be present at all the funerals, probably even giving an eulogy if Twitch and Thrash are not present. They would be sad to lose them but they won't break - at least at first. They feel more like the type to break years/decades after the funerals.

Hashtag also realized this fact really early. She kinda just brushed the unpleasant thought away, unwilling to think too deep into it. When her family is talking about the topic, she would pretend she's taking it well but is actually quite terrified. She might feel more comfortable talking to non-family members about this. Eventually someone (Twitch?) will notice and approach her. But when the time actually comes she might still need a while to process the loss. I can imagine the grandkids / great grandkids of Robby and Mo asking their parents "Why does great aunt Hashtag stop visiting?" because she kinda just disappeared for years/decades after Robby and Mo passed away.

Twitch would be aware of this early too. She would feel obliged to be mature, thinking that she needs to stay emotionally strong for her family. Her stress is obvious thought - she's hyperactive, overworking herself during trainings, helping too much with the family chores, etc. Robby would talk to her about this, express his own insecurities on the faraway future, and they will figure things out. When death is actually approaching, Twitch would be quite stressed again. She would push all her important work aside to take care of her parents (even though they already have more care than they need). She would try to stay with them all the time, saying she's more suited for the job because she's about human height and doesn't get tired. And she would really, really want her human family to stay, to the point that it might be a little bit unhealthy.

Thrash is aware of the life expectancy difference, but it would take him a while to realize what this actually implies. The moment of realization would be a shock for him, then he would be in denial. Mo might actually fuel in with the denial, saying they might have a longer life expectancy due to Quintus power. He would be quite angered by the time they realize Quintus power doesn't work this way / or when one of his human family express the desire to live a normal life and die naturally. It's a quite standard 5 stages of grief except that he would be stuck in an endless loop of denial and anger and bargaining. I think he would be the one who harbors the strongest negative feelings over this, and it will be a recurring thing throughout his life. He would snap if someone outside the family brings up the topic. And he might not be present at the funerals. Losing Mo would definitely be a devasting thing for him - the bond between them is just too important and too special. He's her Rocinante and he feels incomplete without her.

Jawbreaker would be very obvious about not taking it well. He probably wouldn't realize the life expectancy problem on his own and needs to be informed, then he just starts bawling his eyes out, which is honestly a relief for Dot and Alex because this is the same reaction Robby and Mo had when they were first introduced to the concept of death (at the age of 5 or something). This is a recurring thing for him too - for a few years, whenever someone brings up this problem he just starts crying. I think he would say some innocent disturbing things like "I would die with you! 🥹" He would probably accept a religious/spiritual explanation like "We will still be with you even though you won't be able to see us or interact with us. / We will meet again in afterlife." He might become religious solely for this reason. But which religion? Can he still "join the Matrix" or "join the AllSpark" if he was born from the Emberstone? But then can humans join the AllSpark/Emberstone? Should he pick a human religion instead? Can a terran join human heaven in afterlife? How does reincarnation work? Can he reincarnate into a human? Could he be the reincarnation of a human? His family would need to deal with questions like these for a good while (which is actually really helpful for all of them).

[jiwoneiric]

midnight quarrel pt.1

—y/n won't stop practising and minji knows she needs to do something

pairing: kim minji x 6th newjeans member!reader

genre: hurt comfort

tags: minji is just worried about y/n, overworked and stubborn y/n, get up has hard choreos, y/n is '04 liner but younger than minji by 10 days :D, y/n is about the same height as minji.

warning: cursing, self-hatred, overworking, injuries?

"did we run out of trainees that we debuted someone as slow as you, y/n?"

what?

"ssaem, i don't think that's quite necessary."

you were just about to get drowned by your other voice when minji interrupts your performance director.

"why wasn't it?"

right.

probably seeing there's no response from minji, the pd turns away from you and faces minji instead.

"she's delaying the whole group's progress. if she keeps on going like this, you guys will be affected too, you know that right, kim minji?"

now why is ssaem picking a fight with minji?

"i'm truly sorry, ssaem. i'll practice harder and longer."

you hate yourself already, and it is not needed for you to see minji getting told off because of you.

"same old sentences, y/n."

you swallow down the sarcastic remark of your ssaem and bow again.

it is currently half past three in the morning but newjeans's practice room is still occupied with loud music and heavy breathing.

the only difference is that you are alone now while your members are most probably catching their sleep. you managed to convince your manager to stay a bit longer, albeit she told you not to overwork yourself, which you surely did.

the last beat of the fourth song arrives, and you fall on the floor lifelessly. your chest erratically going up and down as you try to catch your breath. your vision is getting blurry from fatigue, but you know your dance isn't perfect enough. your mind knows it very well, yet your body is trying to go against your will.

still, you roll around before trying to push yourself up with your weary arms before you feel someone's arms circle around yours before pulling you up. defensively, you turn around, a bit too fast that you can feel your head spinning even worse.

"who-"

"y/n."

a stern call of your name forces you to open your eyes, meeting minji's worried ones.

when did she get inside?

"m-minji..."

you wobble around a bit more before she fully catches you, holding your shoulder tight.

"are you crazy, y/n?"

that sentence should've gotten you mad but the worry lingering in her voice gets your tear glands working faster as you feel tears pooling in your eyes.

"i told you to ask for our help, didn't i?"

a lone tear falls across your face before you harshly wipe it off, not wanting to look weaker than you already are right now.

"it isn't that easy, min."

you look away upon seeing her frown.

"don't you trust us?"

you bite your lips but the words slip out eventually.

"well, don't you trust me?"

a few minutes pass by and the heavy silence is enough of an answer for you. enough to switch your sadness to anger and disappointment.

"exactly."

you huff out before backing away, walking towards your bag, and putting your stuff inside, although it looks like you're shoving your stuff inside.

"y/n."

"stop, minji."

a pang on your chest.

"i'll stop practising today as you wanted so i want you to let me be."

and another one.

hurriedly, you turn everything off, and seeing that you still love your member, you grab her wrist without even looking at her before dragging her outside the room.

you are impressed that she still won't say or do anything, not even while you are locking up the room.

"don't wait for me."

were the last words you gave her before parting ways, needing to wind off your broken heart over her distrust of you.

it hurts more when you realize that she still won't say anything to at least objects the fact that she did not trust you.

it is like the world is against you today.

or is it that it has always been?

nevertheless, you tighten your hold on your padding jacket as the strong wind gushes over you, the cold temperature seeping inside your bones.

why would you stay outside at this abandoned park if you know it's cold, right?

but you know your status so not risking getting caught by any of your fans inside a random convenience store, you settled down at the nearest park, glad that no one is here.

the sun is almost rising but you don't plan on going back to the dorm just yet. thank goodness you don't have any schedule for the upcoming two days. the pain in your heart still lingers and you don't want to cause a scene inside the girls' safe abode. your phone was so loud with notifications that you decided to turn it off about an hour ago.

but you turn it on back, waiting for the burst of notification sounds but instead, a call comes right in.

you look at the caller id and sigh before answering.

"dani?"

"unnie! where are you?'

you notice the loud background noise and pull the phone away for a bit.

5:32 a.m.

why are they being so loud already?

"everything alright there, dani?"

"obviously not, unnie. minji unnie is crying and you are... wherever you are, right now!"

minji is crying?

oh no.

"wait, i'm on my way."

"hurry up, unnie. or else you might need to see us having a crying fest."

you chuckle a bit upon hearing dani's way of lightening the mood before ending the call.

you guess you need to come home at last.

"y/n!"

you shut your eyes tight as hanni's loud screech of your name pierced your ear.

the girl pulls you into a hug and you notice how there are no sight of kim minji at all.

"where is she?"

your voice slows as to not let her know you ask about her. thanks to hanni's tact, she quietens down her voice too.

"she's in her room. haerin got waken up by her sobbing on her bed, that's when dani realized you aren't home."

you nodded in understanding and thanked her but as you were about to walk away, she grips your wrist, tight.

"i asked her this too earlier but she won't budge so did you guys fight, y/n?"

did we?

you clenched your teeth.

"i'm not trying to be immature here but i was the one who got hurt earlier."

you say truthfully with a frown on your face as you can feel your heart hurting physically when the scene a few hours ago is repeated in your mind.

you perceived how worries fill hanni's gaze on you.

"are you alright, y/n?"

right.

are you?

"i don't know hanni but i can't just ignore the fact that she cried."

"y/n, i think it's better if you don't go to her. i love you as much as i love her and i won't let you get hurt again."

hanni is right. you're afraid that you can't control your emotions if you catch sight of minji right now. you hug her your gratefulness before going inside your shared room with dani.

you took about an hour to arrive at the dorm earlier so it's safe to say that your roommate is back in her deep sleep. you put your bag away and throw yourself onto the bed, slowly drifting into your dreamland as the fatigue from overworking earlier catches you back.

you woke up a few hours later but there's still no sign of minji even after you got out of your room to eat your brunch. it's bothering you so much but at the same time, you don't feel like seeing her face either. nonetheless, you asked hanni again.

"pham, is she still in her room?"

"yup. i went inside earlier and it looked like she was sleeping but who knows."

you contemplate if you should go see her but hanni is quick to interrupt you.

"if you want to go to her, just remember you have the right to be upset too, okay?"

warmth fills you up upon listening to hanni's words.

"since when are you good with your words, pham?"

you chuckle as she smacked your head.

"stop ruining the mood, y/n!"

just then, a soft low voice resonates through the kitchen.

"y/n?"

it was minji's. the deafening silence consuming the space is agitating you, and most probably hanni too, since you catch her small frown.

"should i give you guys some space?"

"stay!", "yes."

oh, now the silence is getting even more jarring.

but before hanni could decide on that, minji rushes to you and quickly drags you to her room.

you waited for her to lock the door before your anger wins over you.

"what the hell, minji?!"

you really don't want to shout at her but your rage and mortification over her silence last night is taking over yourself.

"we need to talk."

you heard how her voice wavered and how she can't even meet your gaze and that's all you need to know both of you are not ready to talk about what happened yet.

“i cant talk right now, minji.”

“what do you mean by that?”

your chest starts heaving frantically as your anger is getting over your mind.

"you hurt me so much and what? you expect me to just be alright about it after a few hours, kim?"

you saw how hurt flashed over her eyes when you called her by her last name. still, you ignored it knowing that if she still insists to talk, you are going to hurt her further.

"we are going to talk later, minji."

you added before reaching over the doorknob behind her before you feel a weak tug on your shirt's sleeve.

"y/n, please."

you watch how minji is on the verge of breaking down and strangely, the sight of that washes down most—not all—of your rage. Immediately, an overwhelming wave of guilt crashes your heart.

maybe, just maybe.

you grab her and pull her into your embrace right away. it seems like she's been holding those tears for so long from how hard she's sobbing in your arms right now.

you frown as you feel your heart aching, unconsciously clenching minji's shirt a bit too tight. it is very unusual for minji to cry so it hurts more that you need to witness her crying because of you. she rarely cries, at least not in front of you or the other members.

noticing it, minji looks slightly to the left, gasping silently when she sees tears on your face. you try to hide your face by looking away, but you only cry harder when all she does is hug you tighter, this time with rubs on your back.

after a long silence filled with efforts of comforting each other, minji speaks first.

“i'm sorry, y/n. i should have denied that and told you that i trust you…i know.” 

the problem is that she didn't.

your other voice makes you felt like you couldn't breathe. anger, frustration, and hurt are filling up your heart, squeezing it until tears fall from your eyes even more.

“then why didn't you?” 

you bite your lips, even harder to the point you can feel the iron taste of blood on your tongue when you feel minji's hold on you weakens.

"i—"

it stops there. neither minji or you say anything after a few minutes.

"i told you. we shouldn't talk about this yet."

you break both the silence and the hug, not failing to notice how minji's frown deepens.

"i'm truly sorry, minji, but let's talk later."

with that, you hurriedly grab the doorknob again, scared that minji will try anything to halt you from leaving. your heart jumped when you are met face-to-face with hanni's worried figure. hurriedly, you wipe your tears before retreating to your room.

"unnie! are you alright? were you crying?"

unfortunately, your roommate notices your entrance, and apparently your tears-stained cheeks too. dani springs up immediately from her bed before pulling you into her warm hug.

"me and minji kinda have a fight, i guess."

you try to say it as nonchalantly as possible but dani knows better that you and minji crying is not to be taken lightly.

"do you want to rant about it to me or do you want your favorite vanilla latte right now?"

an amused chuckle slips out of your lips.

"mo dani, you sweet girl."

thanks to danielle, your whole body feels lighter and for the nth times, you agree on her sunshine nickname.

"yeah, yeah, i know i am now, choose!"

"but she's so bright that you can't risk making her gloomy by your problems.

"vanilla latte it is then."

"aww, no spilling the tea then, i guess."

you watch as dani walks out of your room to get your vanilla latte and maybe, just maybe, you should tag along to get some fresh air. you follow her closely from behind after making sure she knows you're tagging along. from the corner of your eyes, you can see both minji and hanni going out of minji and haerin's shared room just right before you step outside of the house.

you just hope that minji could think thoroughly and talk to you when she's fully ready.

next

a/n: thank you for giving this a read! feel free to leave a request on my ask :D comments and reblogs are so appreciated :))))

[writingwithciara]

He Never Will ~Jack Hughes~

summary: jack loves his best friend and only wants to protect her from the worlds shittiest boyfriend

word count: 3.6k

pairing: jack hughes x reader, reader x shitty boyfriend

notes: based off the song by alexander stewart (my birthday twin 💕). i've recently become obsessed with this song & haven't put anything out for jack yet so i figured i'd write this for him [TW: toxic relationship with abuse]

masterlist

jack was in love with his best friend. it was cliche and he knew it but he didn’t care. the only thing he cared about was making sure she didn’t find out.

her boyfriend could tell though. he saw the way jack looked at y/n & he hated hearing him talk about her to other people as if he was the one dating her.

it was like a game to hunter though. well, more of a test really.

he had suspicions that y/n was into jack so every once in a while, he would pick a fight with her just to see if she ran crying to jack. and most of the time, she did.

when she didn’t run to her best friend, she would run to his brother or the captain of his hockey team. but to hunter, it didn't matter who she ran to. The point was that she ran to another guy and he didn't like it.

but she always went back to him, no matter how bad he treated her and jack hated that. he knew she deserved better and he wanted to be the one she chose. jack wanted her to stay on one of the many nights she ran to him.

but she never did.

if he don't know what he's got now, he never will

it was the night before jack was supposed to head up to toronto for the all-star game when y/n came back to his place.

the tears were pouring down her face as jack let her into his apartment without a word. he could never bring himself to say i told you so, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state.

a few minutes of silence passed as they sat on the end of his bed before jack spoke up.

"so what happened tonight?"

"i don't even really know. i got home from work and he was in the middle of trashing my apartment. he said something about me not being faithful to him, which is total bullshit. and i know we have our fights and shit on a daily basis, and that's alright. but tonight felt different. like if i had stayed any longer, maybe he would've hit me or something."

jack looked at her face for any sign of a mark, fearing that she may have been hiding something from him. but there was nothing so he let it slide.

"i'm gonna take you home and i want you to pack a bag as quickly as you possibly can."

"why?" she wiped her eyes and looked at jack.

"you're coming with me to toronto."

"are you nuts? that's only going to make this worse, jack."

"i'm going to be gone for a week and there's no way in hell that i'm leaving you alone with him for that long with no guarantee of safety."

"i'll still have nico. and luke even."

"please just do this for me? i'm worried about leaving you with hunter. i swear the kid's just begging to get his ass beat."

"jack, if i promise to go with you to toronto, will you promise to try to get along with hunter when we get back?"

"y/n, i've already tried. he's a lost cause honestly."

"can we not have this conversation again? i'm tired of hearing it." y/n sighed with frustration and stood up. she began to pace around jack's room.

"until you see how much better you are than hunter, i'm gonna keep bringing it up. and the fact that you've heard it more than once should be enough to tell you something!" jack raised his voice but regretted it immediately when y/n started to cry. "please just listen to me okay? look, i care about you and i only want what's best for you. i'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything. i'm sorry if i upset you." jack pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back as she sobbed.

y/n cried for a good 10 minutes before she finally spoke again.

"i'm not upset with you, jack. i could never be. i'm upset with myself because i know i shouldn't be with someone like hunter but i love him so much and i can't just walk away from that." she looked up at jack and smiled when he wiped her tears away. "please don't hate me for staying with him."

"i could never ever hate you. i hope you know that." he rubbed her back soothingly. "and although i don't support you staying with him, i'm always here if you need me and i'm never ever leaving your side, okay?"

"okay." y/n nodded with a shy smile.

"so, will you please come to toronto with me?"

jack and y/n ended up meeting up with luke and nico before the boys took y/n back o her apartment to get her stuff. luckily for them, hunter was nowhere to be found.

y/n packed a bag quickly and left a little note for hunter. jack didn't agree with that idea, fearing hunter would come find her and do something terrible. but luke and nico assured him that y/n would be safe with them while at the game.

the 4 of them got in the car and were on the plane in no time. y/n took the window seat and jack sat next to her.

"what's going on in your mind?"

"part of me just...i don't know...i feel a little bad for hunter. maybe he's only like this because he didn't get a whole lot of positive attention growing up."

"don't feel bad for that piece of shit, y/n. he doesn't deserve you. and his lack of positive attention is no excuse for the way he treats you. i really hope you understand that someday." jack sighed and changed the topic.

for the rest of the flight, nico did most of the talking while luke did everything he could to keep a smile on y/n's face, even if it was only a small one. he accepted it either way.

when they got to the hotel they were staying at, the lady at the front desk gave them 2 keys. jack handed one to y/n and the group went up to their rooms. y/n wasn't a fan of being alone but at least the boys were just next door if she needed them.

the first night in toronto was not great. y/n woke up from a nightmare screaming and she couldn't bring herself to stop crying. jack heard her scream and was in her room in seconds. his heart broke when he saw the state she was in so he stayed with her for the next two nights.

on draft day, y/n was sitting with nico and luke as they watched the event unfold. she excused herself to use the bathroom and while she was gone, her phone buzzed in her seat.

it was a series of texts from hunter. nico and luke took it upon themselves to respond.

the two boys shared a look before y/n returned. she noticed their weird behavior and raised an eyebrow.

"you weirdos doing alright?"

"yeah. never better." nico lied and turned his attention back to the draft.

"hunter texted you while you were in the bathroom and we answered him."

"luke!" nico shot his teammate a look before looking over at y/n beside him.

"what did you guys do that for?" y/n opened her phone and went through the messages. "i could've handled it, you guys."

"we're all tired of him treating you like you mean nothing to him. that's not how you deserve to be treated." luke sighed.

"we're sorry, y/n." nico sighed. "we just love you so much."

"i'm not sorry."

"luke!" nico shot him another glare and rolled his eyes.

"i'm sorry, okay? but it had to be said. y/n deserves better than what she has and if you guys want to tell me different, then go right ahead. but we all know the truth." luke sighed. y/n placed her hand on his shoulder and hugged him.

"i know you guys are looking out for me, and i love you for it. so much." y/n looked over at nico. "can you guys let jack know that i'm gonna head back to new jersey before hunter gets here? i need to go pack my stuff."

"are you leaving him?"

"yeah." she stood up and sighed. "i don't know where i'm gonna go though."

"crash at jack's. you know he won't mind."

"yeah because he's in love with her." luke chuckled, earning another glare and a wide-eyed expression from y/n.

"that's supposed to be a secret, luke."

"oh, my bad. i thought she knew."

"that's a conversation for another day. i got something to focus on right now. but i won't forget you told me." y/n kissed luke's head and gave nico a hug before heading back to the hotel to pack. she left a note for jack because she knew the boys would forget to tell him.

when everything was done, y/n found herself back on the plane to new jersey.

the flight wasn't long but it gave her some time to think about what luke told her. she was shocke but everything was hitting her all at once.

had jack always felt this way?

when the plane landed, y/n got in the first cab she could find and headed to her apartment. as the car approached the building, y/n was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread. she didn't want to end up running into hunter on the off chance he hadn't actually gone to toronto.

she slowly unlocked the front door and made her way inside. when there was no sign of hunter, y/n let out a sigh of relief before making her way to the bedroom.

she grabbed her suitcase and started throwing all her clothes into it. unfortunately, she only made it through half her clothes before she heard the door open and close. she tried to hide the fact that she was leaving but hunter entered the room before she could do anything.

"why would you feel the need to lie about where you were going?"

"you wouldn't have let me go support my best friends, hunter. i had no other choice. lying was my only option. plus i needed a damn break."

"what could you have possibly needed a break from?"

"from you. you're constantly keeping track of my whereabouts and you won't let me spend any time with my friends. the only time i get to see jack is whenever you start some pointless argument and drive me away for a night. it's getting to the point where i need to put my own mental health above everything."

"what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"i'm leaving, hunter. this is too much." y/n went to grab her bag but hunter gripped her wrist firmly.

"you're not going anywhere."

"let me go!"

"you're not going anywhere." he repeated, this time with emphasis on each word.

"i swear to god, if you don't let me go, i'll-"

"you'll what? call jack to come rescue you like always? well you can't. he's in toronto and i-"

at this point, y/n was tired of him and his comments about jack. she reached for the nearest object and swung it at his arm. hunter released his grip on her and before he could grab her again, she grabbed her suitcase and used it to keep some distance between them.

"i'll be back for my other stuff later."

"whatever, bitch."

y/n rolled her eyes and hurried out of the apartment. when she got in her car, she broke down and facetimed jack.

he picked up with a smile but it disappeared when he saw her tears.

"what happened? why did you go back to jersey?"

"i thought hunter was gonna be in toronto...and i figured i'd take that opportunity to come home and pack my stuff & leave the apartment. but he came home and...." y/n began to sob harder. "he hurt me, jack. hs grabbed my arm and it hurts so much. i don't know why i'm calling you when there's nothing you can do about it now."

"bullshit. i'm getting on the next flight home and i'm going to kick that douchebag's ass."

"jack, you're a captain of an all star team. you can't leave. quinn needs you there."

"but you need me there more." jack moved around the hotel room to pack his bag. "besides, quinn has elias and if he really needs another hughes, luke is here too. plus, i can't even compete in the all-star game so there's really no point in me being here."

"but this is important to you, jack."

"y/n, you are more important than any hockey game, all-star or not. you are my best friend and i'm going to be there for you when you need me to be." he looked at his laptop. "i'll be home in about 5 hours, okay?"

"okay." y/n sniffled and wiped her eyes. "is it alright if i-"

"of course you can stay with me. you don't even have to ask." jack smiled softly at the girl on his screen. "want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"please? i mean, if you don't mind." y/n propped her phone in the holder and began driving to jack's apartment.

"anything for you. you know that." jack kept y/n on the phone while he knocked on luke and nico's door. luke answered and smiled at his brother.

"hey. what's up?"

"i'm heading home. y/n needs me."

"just how in love with her are you?" luke smirked, not even realizing that y/n's face was on jack's screen and she could hear everything.

"dude, she's on the phone." jack's eyes darted down to his phone and back to luke's, whose eyes only widened when he realized.

"cat's out of the bag. oops." luke went to shut the door. "good luck, jack."

luke shut the door completely and jack looked back at his phone.

"for the record, luke is an idiot and i wouldn't listen to anything he says ever."

"never do." y/n smiled. jack returned the smile and couldn't help but stare at her as he headed down to the lobby to hail a cab.

"i won't be able to talk to you while i'm on the flight but i'll call you when i land, okay?"

"okay." y/n pulled into the parking lot of jack's building and got out. as she made her way into the apartment, part of her felt relieved. it felt like she was home.

"alright. the flight is boarding but i'll make sure to call you when i land. help yourself to anything in the apartment. there's some bath bombs and bubble bath at the back of my closet in case you want to take a nice, relaxing bath."

"thanks again, jack. for everything. i really appreciate you. have a safe flight."

"i will. love you."

"love you too." y/n smiled and hung up. she made her way into jack's room and pulled the bath stuff out from his closet. she ran the water for her bath and put on some calming music while also lighting a few candles. she put the cotton candy bath bomb in the water and when it was filled, she got in.

she hadn't even been paying attention to the time when jack got home. he stumbled in through the door with a busted lip and a shiny black eye.

"jesus christ. what the hell happened to you?"

"i'm sorry. i know you don't like it when i get violent off the ice, but i had to stop at hunter's before i came home. he hurt you so i hurt him. tit for tat i guess."

"how bad did you hurt him?"

"pretty bad. he's like 10 times worse than me right now."

"you didn't have to do that for me, jack." y/n looked at the cut on his lip. "now let's go clean up your lip and see if we can do something about that eye." y/n grabbed his hand and brought him to the bathroom. she sat him on the edge of the tub and grabbed a rag from the bin, running it under some warm water.

jack watched her every move intently, afraid that if he looked away, she would fade into a memory.

y/n wiped the dried blood from his face and started looking through her own bag for something to heal the black eye faster.

"you know, i don't hate it when you get violent off the ice, especially when it's to defend me. kinda think it's hot that you would put yourself in the way of violence if you're protecting me." she applied a cream to his left eye and placed a gentle kiss just below the bruise. when she pulled away from his face, she made eye contact with him. "i love you but can you please stop getting into fights?"

"thought you found it hot when i did." jack smirked.

"i do. but i also don't like seeing you get hurt." y/n ran her hands through his hair slowly while his hands held her waist. he tugged her closer and hugged her tightly.

"you're truly a blessing and i hate that hunter could never realize what he had."

"hopefully he realizes what he had now that he's lost it."

"you would never go back to him again, would you?" jack moved his had from his resting spot on her stomach and looked up at her.

"and leave you? no chance in hell will that ever happen." y/n knelt down to be at eye level with him.

there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her feel like they were alone in the world.

jack looked at her and he swore his heart began to beat faster. her gaze was focused on his lips and she tried to look away but she couldn't.

when jack's thumb reached up to draw delicate circles on her cheek, she knew she was screwed.

for years she was telling herself that she didn't have feelings for jack but here they were now, in the bathroom, sharing an intimate moment.

the feelings hit her hard and before she knew it, she was pulling jack in for a gentle kiss. when she tried to pull away, jack held her cheeks and poured everything into the kiss.

by the time the kiss ended, they were both out of breath and their faces were red. jack had a playful smirk on his face as he admired y/n's features.

"you are so incredibly beautiful, y/n. can't believe hunter would treat you so badly."

"how about we stop talking about that asshole & instead focus on this?" she gestured between them and smirked. "i love you and i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

"i'm sorry i never told you how i felt." jack continued to hold onto her face while y/n held his arms. "in case it's not obvious now, i do actually love you. but how could i not? i mean you are the most incredible human being & definitely the most precious person i've ever known. you are perfect in every way and i will spend the rest of my life showing you how you deserve to be loved. i-if that's alright with you."

"you are all i want and all i need jack. forever and always, since forever." she wrapped her pinky around his and smiled. a simple gesture that's been part of their lives since they were 9 but they loved it because it meant more to them than anyone could ever know.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

[lee-hakhyun]

「“Uriel. What were you thinking when you brought those 'lambs'?”」

Archangel Uriel still remembers that day.

「“Could it be that girl didn't know what the 'lambs' that the Scribe told her to bring meant?”」

The whispering voices of the Seraphim as she arrived with the lambs in tow. Uriel frowned at those guys and thought. Why try to understand what 'lambs' those 'lambs' meant? It's better to get another demon's head than waste time agonizing over something like that.

「“At any rate, I brought ten?”」

Her calling was to hunt demons and kill Demon Kings. Archangel Uriel was born solely for this. Countless beings of evil fell under her famed swordplay. Demon Kings. Demon Lords. Devils. Any star containing the character of 'evil' did not escape her blade. After hundreds or thousands of years passed, the light of the stars belonging to 'Absolute Evil' began to go out. During that unimaginable period of depravity, the universe she belonged to gradually darkened.

「“Why are you killing demons?”」

When was that question asked? Was it when she heard of rumors of a new Demon King at the border?

「“I've been ordered to.”」 「“Would you kill anyone if ordered to?”」 「“Mm.”」

As he said, Uriel had also killed the Demon King's lover. Because that was also an order she had received.

「“Archangel. You are like a demon.”」

Holding his lover who no longer breathed, the Demon King spoke a quiet curse.

「"Archangel who loves nothing. Someday you too will love something. When that time comes, the fire you have started will judge you.”」 「“Whatever.”」

Uriel jeered as she cut the Demon King's throat.

'demon-like judge of fire'.

her modifier, of which the archangels revered and absolute evil feared. she killed demon kings like her modifier. over and over and over, in so many ways. and after so long, she got a new order. "uriel. halt the 'demon hunt'."

too many demon kings had died. a ceasefire was signed, yet uriel thought it a joke. a year passed. a decade. after half a century, uriel finally realized.

this can't be right.

she was born to destroy evil. she didn't go so far just to end up with this 'peace'.

after going on a rampage and ending up restrained by jophiel, she's forced to swear on her name as an archangel to not touch another demon king without the scribe's permission. ■ck, what was she supposed to do now?

she's told to take care of the sheep.

seriously? an archangel who used to defeat demon kings, now forced to be a shepherd? as a sheep walks up to her, she reflexively hits it and as the sheep slumps over, a low rank angel runs up to her in shock. she no longer remembers the angel's name, but only their title— teacher yang.

(yang/양 = sheep)

there were so, so many sheep. the 10 lambs uriel had brought had multiplied, and at this point the lambs of eden are quite popular. those sheep that appear in dreams? they're from eden :) teacher yang says that this is all thanks to uriel. thanks to the peace she brought.

counting the innumerable sheep, uriel finally admitted that she had really been released from her mission 'temporarily'. what should an archangel who had dedicated her life to hunting demons do now? she can watch sheep for a while, but this can't go on forever—

it's then that she sees teacher yang watching someone on a portable device. later, she learns that teacher yang was a 'star stream broadcasting' addict. looking at the screen, a video was playing.

「“Calm down, Yoo Sangah-ssi.”」

and right after, she learned for the first time she learned of the 'lambs' metatron wanted were.

「“Think about it. We are in a game right now.”」

---

a lot had happened since then. the great war of saints and demons broke out, and <eden> fell. she watched metatron, the archangels, and the seraphim who had laughed at her die.

「“What about the sheep?”」

teacher yang's last words.

「“I was supposed to shear them today...”」

the low ranking angel died, leaving behind no story. uriel never learned their name.

after the scenarios ended, she spent a lot time in a small garden. she was left alone in <eden>, where not a single sheep was left. sometimes she descended to interact with the incarnations or gabriel, she danced and sang when she was in the mood, but most of the time she stayed in the garden. she slept in the garden, and sometimes she ate. and she watched a story.

「“Uriel, you know. This is just a story.”」

she watched as one star died once more. in this ruined world, this was the only story she managed to keep.

the main character of that story was gone. no one knew where he went. though she knew that— or maybe because she knew that, she continued to watch that story without doing anything.

and sometimes she thought about sheep.

she dreamed of a man who became a sheep, living somewhere unknown to her. in that world, that man will meet new companions, and gain a new history. a new family would have been formed, without her knowing.

someone starts speaking to her.

she recognizes the voice. but that can't be. the owner of that voice had found his ■■ and died. no, did he really die? she didn't know. she knew nothing of the last ■■ he had reached. and she didn't particularly care.

the voice continues to speak. commenting on how she was still interested in this story. asking if she was curious about the next chapter.

the next chapter?

there's a place she can see the next chapter. she couldn't intervene, only watch. and she'd new a new modifier.

but if she could see that star again.

and that was how uriel came to this 'scenario'.

with a temporary modifier of 'The One Who Brought Ten Lambs', under the role of 'teacher yang' in this academy scenario.

uriel was grateful for her history she was grateful she had brought ten lambs to eden at that time. she was grateful she met teacher yang. she was grateful that she was the 'demon-like judge of fire', that she was an archangel of eden.

"Thank you, Uriel."

as lee hakhyun spoke her name, the door to the teacher's office started to close. uriel stumbled toward the closing door.

"Dok..."

spraks fly. even if that name was allowed to be spoken in this worldview, the worldview had caught on. the name she had called was not just of this world's 'actor'.

it was the name of her favourite story. uriel shouted his name.

the door did not open.

[kkuzushi]

જ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. . .ᐟ

˚𖦹 ‘ Chapter 1 : Life’s fine without you. I think. ִ ࣪𖤐

— MASTERLIST | NEXT

Late into the night, you settle in your dimly lit room. The only light sources around are the lamp on your nightstand and your phone set to the low leveled brightness. It’s a weekday tomorrow and it ought to be busy, you know that, yet you rather use the remaining time you have on your phone. Scrolling mindlessly on twitter—or whatever its name is now—you laugh at memes, retweet, then move on. What caught your attention is a new post that blew up just a few hours ago.

Oh. Scaramouche. How could you forget? Honestly, you don’t even know why you haven’t blocked his modelling account.

The break up was six months ago, and you swear you’ve moved on, yet seeing his pictures still... No. It may just be the lack of sleep getting to you—there’s no way you’d be missing your ex anyway, right?

“Whatever, I have other things to think about,” you rolled your eyes and scrolled away immediately without liking the post. Why would you anyway? Scaramouche’s ego would just explode if he saw his own ex like his photos.

After a few minutes more of scrolling, you get lost in other topics and finally forget about what you just saw. A yawn slips out of you, your mind telling you to go to sleep. You will, just a few more scrolls..

Yet another post from your one-sided enemy knocks you back to consciousness. Just a bit though. “Taking the opportunity.” Since when did this man started talking in vague words? But then again, he was just as vague in the relationship.

Since he decides to play that way, might as well ask your friends for help, no?

Seems like they weren’t much help either. Closing your phone, you decide it’s not worth it to overthink about Scaramouche any longer. You’ve done that more than enough during your relationship, why continue doing it when you’re no longer with him?

You settled back in bed, getting comfortable and letting sleep take over your exhausted body. You fell in a dreamless rest, the hours that passed by feeling like 10 minutes.

As your alarm rang out through the room, you forced yourself out of bed and skipped breakfast yet again. Lumine would just treat you again anyway, just play your cards right once you meet up with her.

Once you get into some proper outfit for the day, you take your bag and leave your dorm. And speaking of the devil—or angel for this matter—a certain blondie appears in front of you.

“There you are!” Lumine greets you as soon as you walk right out the door. How long has she been waiting there exactly? Who knows, but she does this every other day that you stopped wondering.

She looks at you as if examining your facial expression, a smirk curving through her lips. “I know that face,” She hummed, crossing her arms, “The face of ‘What does redacted mean by that post of his?’”

“Shut up!” You laughed and playfully rolled your eyes, “I told you I was just curious.” You start to walk out of the dormitories with Lumine although she continued teasing you about last night’s events.

It wasn’t unusual for you to pry into Scaramouche’s life and discuss it with your friends, but within six months, they went from supporting you to making fun of you for it. Not that you mind, it’s better than crying your heart out and after all, crying became an embarrassing option for you after getting used to Scaramouche’s absence.

— ꒰꒰﹒TAGLIST : @raineyun @hayamie @sketcheeee @wraithisd3adinside @heusalettle @liuaneee @yevurin

— ꒰꒰﹒OPEN. [ 7/50 ]

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This AU is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

After recovering from your illness, you talk with Emily and the human trio. You learn little about the bots. However, the idea of officially joining Team Prime leaves you in doubt.

Warnings: Ratchet being grumpy, a bit social anxiety, Miko taking pictures without permission, and a lot of self doubt.

Chapter 10

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

After Ratchet finished the cleaning progress,  infused you with fresh processed energon, and fixed up your dents, he made adjustments to your body after hearing about how your limbs dragged you a lot due to their weight and how much trouble you had moving them. The process felt like forever, but he finally gave you the clear to stand up and move while he made finishing scans. 

“Alright. How do you feel? The adjustments I made should have made your arms and legs more lighter for you to move,” Ratchet asked as you stretched your arms, and shoulders and tested your knees. Everything felt much better and not like you were carrying limbs that felt more like weights. 

“Much better. I feel like I can finally move without exhausting myself,” you explained. 

“Thank you… doc… you said slightly awkwardly. 

He grumbled at the nickname. “Make sure you do not go drinking any more earth oils. It’s unhealthy and bad for you,” he said before proceeding to do something else. 

“Lesson learned,” you said before seeing Emily walk up to you. 

“How are you feeling? Is the headache gone?” she asked. 

“Yeah. The headache’s gone, and I do not feel like I’m going to pass out anytime soon,” you explained. 

“That’s good. You gave me quite a scare when you passed out in the alley like that,” Emily smiled. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you said, feeling embarrassed and a bit guilty for scaring her. 

“Don’t be. You were not feeling well. You were probably gonna pass out sooner or later,” she said. “I’m glad we got you the help you needed before anything serious could happen,” she added. 

Jack, Raf, and Miko then showed up. 

“So… (Name).... what is it like looking at us from there?” Jack asked. 

“Everything is… smaller than it should be,” you answered. 

“Dude. I never knew Vehicons had faces behind their masks,” Miko said. “I thought the eye line and the smooth surface was their face,” 

You frowned. “Haven’t you been with these guys longer than us? Wasn’t there at least one time you saw these cons having faces?” you questioned. 

“We try to avoid putting ourselves in danger. Miko tends to do the opposite so she can take pictures of our bots scrapping the cons.” Jack crossed his arms while looking at Miko. She only rolled her eyes. 

“Well, this is different. Now smile!” Miko took out her phone and took a picture of you. The sudden camera light made you blink your eyes for a moment. 

“So, how long have you three known about these guys?” you asked. 

“For a while now,” Raf answered. 

“You do not have to worry about these guys accidentally stepping on you?” you asked. 

“We’re careful enough. I guess you do not have to worry about getting squashed since you’re a bot yourself,” Miko pointed at you. 

“That’s perhaps the only relief,” Ratchet scoffed. 

You didn’t know what to think of it. Not getting stepped on was one thing, but now you could accidentally do the stepping, and you were not certain if you could trust yourself to be that careful. 

“So… now that you decided to stay. You could become an Autobot,” Jack started. 

“Not a bad idea. Hey, maybe we could finally look into a new look for you,” Emily suggested. 

“Yeah. If you ever joined a fight, the bots could mistake you for the enemy because you still look like one of those Vehicons,” Miko said, making punching motions. “That would be really bad for you,” 

“Ugh—” you stayed silent at the suggestions. 

You, an Autobot? 

This was not your war. 

“I don’t really know about that,” you said. 

“One moment, please. I… I need to clear my head for a moment,” you said, walking away from them. Emily looked after you with a frown. 

You found yourself a lone corner and leaned against the wall with a sigh. 

“(Name)?” 

You looked down to see Emily in front of you. You kneeled down to her level. 

“What’s wrong? Something’s on your mind,” she asked.  

“Nothing. It’s just… my social battery is not very high right now,” you excused as it was partly the truth. 

“But there’s something else,” Emily stated with her hands on her hips. 

You stayed quiet, unsure how to explain it to her. 

“Come on. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me,” she said. 

“It’s just…” you sighed. “So much happened today and now we know that there’s a whole alien war going on. I mean it’s insane,” you confessed. 

“I’m glad these Autobots are friendly, but… me joining these guys? Becoming an Autobot?” you questioned. 

“I might be a cybertronian now, but I am very much still a human from inside. This is… This is not my war,” you said.  

“We got lucky escaping the Decepticons, but I can’t fight. What can I do for them? I’ll be more in their way than be any help,” you asked. 

“I get what you mean,” Emily placed her hand on your finger. 

“You do not have to join them if you don’t want to, and you do not have to do any fighting. I guess that was just Miko getting overly excited,” she said. 

“However, after getting to know them a little. I think this is the best place for you to be. They’re not that bad. I have a good feeling about this so how about you give these guys a chance? Become friends with them? That way you have people you can turn to for help,” she suggested with a gentle smile. 

You hesitated, but her smile and words made you consider it. “If you trust them that much already… then I guess I can give it a try,” you uttered. 

“Attagirl. And don’t worry about being any help. We can figure out that later,” she comforted, patting your hand. “Maybe you could be an extra pair of hands for the doc bot,” she grinned. 

“Ratchet seems like he prefers to work alone,” you said. 

“Nah. We never know once we ask,” she said. 

“But everything is going to be alright. Give these guys a chance. Who knows, they might just be the right people for you after all,” she smiled enthusiastically. 

“Okay,” you nodded. 

“Good. Now come on. Time to upgrade your social skills,” she said and you followed her back to the trio. 

You talked to them about random things. They shared interesting stories they had with their bots and slowly you dropped your guard around them. It no longer seemed bad and you found it rather easy to talk with them. Maybe this could work after all.

[firstdeerwife]

C.10

Whispers Of Desire

The days passed, and although the memory of the kiss they had shared lingered, Alastor and _____ seemed to have reached a tacit agreement not to mention it.

Their encounters became more frequent, charged with a complicity that had been absent before.

They both knew that something had changed, but neither of them dared to cross that line again... yet.

On the other hand, things between Charles and _____ had gone from bad to worse.

The arguments that were once sporadic had now become a daily routine, growing fiercer and more bitter each time.

_____ felt her life was falling apart, trapped in a commitment she never wanted, with a man she could no longer love.

One afternoon, after yet another argument that ended in tense silence, _____ was in the kitchen, her mind replaying the hurtful words they had exchanged.

But something inside her broke.

She was tired—tired of fighting, tired of pretending.

And that night, as Charles walked into the room, _____ decided she could no longer go on like this.

"Charles, we need to talk,"

_____ said with a firm voice, though she was filled with uncertainty inside.

He looked at her with disdain, as if he already knew what she was going to say.

"This again, _____? What is it now?"

_____ pressed her lips together, gathering the courage she needed.

"I'm leaving you. Our marriage is over. I won't marry you."

The words echoed in the room, leaving Charles momentarily stunned.

But the shock quickly turned to anger.

"Are you crazy? What are you talking about? You can't just leave me, _____. This isn't over until I say it is!"

"Yes, I can,"

She responded, her tone defiant.

"I can't keep living this lie. You don't love me, Charles. You only care about having someone to play the role of the perfect wife, and I won't be that woman."

The argument escalated quickly, both of them hurling increasingly sharp and cruel remarks.

The words they had once held back now flew like daggers, tearing apart what little was left of their relationship.

"You're ungrateful! After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me,"

Charles shouted, his face red with fury.

"And what have you done, Charles? Controlled me? Manipulated me? You're nothing but a selfish man who only thinks of himself,"

_____ retorted, her voice trembling with anger.

But then, _____ said something that made Charles completely lose his temper.

"I never loved you, Charles. I've always been a prisoner in this relationship, and you... you're nothing more than a jailer."

In a fit of blind rage, Charles raised his hand and struck her across the cheek with such force that the sound echoed in the room.

_____ staggered back, bringing a hand to her cheek where she felt the sting of the blow.

A deadly silence fell between them.

Charles, horrified by what he had just done, took a step towards her, his voice breaking.

"_____, I... I didn't mean... I'm so sorry."

But Charles' words fell on deaf ears.

_____, with tears of anger and pain in her eyes, looked at him as if she were seeing a stranger.

Without a second thought, she turned and walked out of the house, ignoring Charles' shouts for her to come back.

The rain had begun to fall heavily, drenching her within seconds, but _____ didn't stop.

She walked aimlessly, her mind clouded by anger and pain as the raindrops mixed with her tears.

She didn't know how much time had passed or how far she had walked, but suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in front of her.

Alastor.

He looked at her with concern as he saw her soaked and visibly upset.

"_____, what happened?"

Alastor asked, approaching her cautiously.

_____, unable to speak, simply looked at him with pleading eyes.

Alastor didn't need more.

He took her in his arms, covering her with his coat as he guided her to his home, shielding her from the storm that raged around them.

When they arrived, he helped her inside, and _____ noticed that the house was empty.

Charles wasn't there, and the thought of facing him again filled her with dread.

Alastor led her to a chair and began to dry her off with a towel, all in silence.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Alastor asked softly, handing her another towel to dry her hair.

_____ took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper.

"Charles hit me... after I told him I wouldn't marry him."

Alastor's expression hardened, and his hands momentarily tensed before he relaxed, forcing himself to stay calm for _____'s sake.

He knelt in front of her, gently cupping her face in his hands.

"_____, you don't deserve this. You don't deserve anything he's done to you,"

Alastor said, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and restrained fury.

"I won't let him hurt you again."

Unable to hold back any longer, _____ leaned into him, seeking the comfort she knew only Alastor could give her.

He held her close, his warm breath on her skin, as he felt the pain and anger mix inside him.

"Don't cry for him, _____,"

Alastor whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

"He's not worth it... and I promise he'll regret every tear he's made you shed."

And then, without more words, Alastor kissed her. This time there was no doubt, no hesitation.

They both gave in to the kiss with the passion they had suppressed for so long.

_____ felt all her fear and pain begin to dissipate under the warmth of Alastor's embrace, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to feel what she truly desired.

When the kiss ended, _____ looked at him with eyes full of gratitude and deep sadness.

"I don't know what to do now, Alastor."

He held her tighter, whispering softly in her ear.

"We'll be alright, _____. We'll get through this together. And I promise you, Charles won't hurt you again."

As the rain continued to pound against the windows, _____ allowed herself to rest in Alastor's arms, knowing that while the road ahead would be difficult, she would no longer walk it alone.

End of the first act

|𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎|