#sorry it short but i was pulling my hair trying to get the angst levels just right without it being stupid lmao

[sixx-writes]

                               Room 208|Drifting III

Kurotsuchi Mayuri x Reader

Word Count: 3,350

cw: slow burn, dark content, future nsfw, modern au, surgeon!Mayuri, thief!reader, doctor kink, character death, suicide mention

AO3 Version | Masterlist

Summary: You and your partner decide to steal from a former surgeon who may not be all that he appears.

Pt. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Shiki's voice is background noise to you as your eyes drift off over his shoulder not bothering to make the effort of pretending to listen. You still felt the chill of steel pressing against your bare spine and the light caress of Mayuri's scalpel tracing over your skin. His 'operating room' was inside a delivery truck you'd passed a hundred times parked in the alley between the apartment building and a vacant space for rent.

Mayuri had promised if you tried to tell the police or anyone else what had happened he would make certain that you went down as well. Whether he meant prison or in several chunks on black market ebay you had no idea. You also harbored no doubts that he could and would keep that promise so you had no choice but to go on living in 207 like nothing had happened giving fake reports to Shiki on your progress with the surgeon.

A loud bang startled you from your thoughts and your attention snapped back to Shiki's annoyed expression. He had slammed his fist on the table like a caveman and it took everything in you not to throw your entire glass of soda in his face just to relieve some stress.

"What the fuck is wrong with ya? Ya look like your dog just fuckin' exploded or somethin'. Don't tell me. Did the doctor touch your special area?"

"Fuck you," you sneered with real anger, "why don't you just fucking grow up already."

You stood leaving your uneaten food behind and chair toppled in the middle of the floor while Shiki stared after you in mild confusion.

You hated this place, you hated Mayuri, and above all you hated yourself and what you'd become.

You'd fallen into depression after your father was shot. Murdered while dealing with a domestic dispute ending six years of his career serving as a policeman. After that you had spiraled starting with dropping out of school and concluding with you in juvenile detention.

In your absence your mother's mental state had continued to deteriorate unable to handle the loss of her husband and the day after your sixteenth birthday she overdosed on painkillers. The news had left you completely broken, you had begged and screamed to see her, knocking out the officer's tooth when he had tried to hold you back. You didn't remember much more after that as you'd needed to be sedated for the next several days until your hysteria settled.

The following months you were inconsolable and eventually you managed to escape. It was around that time that you met Shiki, only eighteen and already a master at pick pocketing and petty theft, he'd taught you the ways of the streets. After the first decent score the two of you had rented your first apartment and you had never known exhilaration like that could exist. Finally something was going right for you again.

It went on like that for a while, careful not to draw too much attention before moving on, and avoiding any yaluza owned businesses. Now at 26 years old, Shiki had approached you with a low risk high reward job involving a surgeon turned recluse that would set both of you straight for good. The two of you had planned to split the money and head off your separate ways once 'the big one' came along. An exit strategy into a normal life when the time was right.

Or that was how it was meant to go.

For some time now you'd had the growing suspicion that Shiki had no intention of giving up the lifestyle as he sunk deeper into it rather than trying to crawl his way out. He'd taken more of an interest in the yakuza and spoke as if he truly admired them instead of the loathing and distrust that you would have expected. Maybe it was because it was practically all Shiki knew, he was half your age when he was abandoned by his mother; a whore that he didn't remember the name of. His own name was given by the man that had found him in a cemetery asleep on one of the graves; 'Shiki', shortened from the word 'funeral', Soushiki.

It wasn't something that Shiki liked to talk about aside from how the man was a drunk and beat him sometimes until it became too much and he ran away. From the sound of it you couldn't help wondering if something worse hadn't transpired while Shiki was living with the man but it wasn't your place to force him into speaking on it. He had always done the same for you respecting your boundaries and not asking about your past.

Shiki may come off as an annoying dickhead, and most of the time he was, but he understood what lines shouldn't be crossed when it came down to it.

Instead of going home you'd wandered in a random direction with no particular goal in mind. It was something that you used to do more often before meeting Shiki. Anything to avoid going back to your room and him just yet. The sky was turning grey overhead by the time you reached an area of the city you weren't familiar with. Sex shops and other shady businesses infested the area, no doubt yakuza owned, and you tried to avoid eye contact with anyone that seemed dangerous. Or anyone at all really.

As you'd recently learned literally anyone could be a psychopath appearances be damned; including rich surgeons that secretly liked to collect body parts in jars.

Your stomach growled pathetically and you're reminded that you hadn't finished your meal back at the restaurant so you try to search for the least seedy food joint. You settle on a ramen shop with a hefty woman working the counter ordering yourself a bowl and savoring the rich broth chasing your hunger away along with a glass of shochu to wash it down.

It's getting late and you know your time delaying the inevitable is coming to an end. Begrudgingly, you pay for your food and leave the ramen shop behind just as the first rain drops fall on your head.

You considered several times to just go to your other apartment for one night to clear your mind but that meant seeing Shiki. It was unfortunate that you were petulant enough to choose going into a building where someone had tried to kill you to avoid an awkward situation. You sprinted across the hallway at the sound of the elevator doors dinging, key already in hand, not risking so much as a glance at 208.

Once inside you pulled off your jacket and shirt; it had rained almost the entire way back soaking you to the skin. You were slipping off your second shoe about to go for for your waistband when your focus shifted to the living room.

Mayuri was seated across from you, legs wide apart, one arm draped along the back of the sofa in the most casual way imaginable as if he hadn't broken in while you were out. It was the first time you'd seen him without a robe or some form of house clothes. Instead he was decked out in formal wear; a black dress shirt with the top buttons undone revealing a V of his slender chest and the sleeves rolled back to the elbow. It had came un-tucked from the tight pants that matched and you guessed he had gotten in a while ago growing more and more agitated when you didn't come home contributing to his disheveled appearance.

"Where were you?"

You didn't miss the accusatory tone behind the question.

"Around," you answered intentionally vague. You didn't want to give the satisfaction of letting him see how freaked out you were. The towel from when you'd washed your hair that morning still hung on the back of the second sofa where you'd tossed it, opposite of where Mayuri sat, and you grabbed it drying off your body not bothering to cover yourself. He'd already seen everything anyway. What did you care.

"Have you been drinking?"

"No."

 Yes.

The exchange was reminiscent of a disappointed parent whose daughter had stayed out too late. Just on the other side of almost normal. You didn't know why you bothered lying to him about what you'd been doing as if you gave a shit what he thought. All you wanted was a shower to warm yourself and to take a handful of pills to make you pass out for the next ten hours.

That was why you held onto the towel, dragging off your pants and stripping down to your bra and panties, wandering past Mayuri whose eyes narrowed but to your relief didn't try to stop you.

You locked the bathroom door, taking deep cleansing breaths trying to calm yourself, flicking on the light and going to unhook your bra when you noticed the man in your shower. You yelled in surprise pressing yourself back into the door fumbling for the handle. The man was clearly yakuza, his tattoos visible at the edges of his shirt, and had been dead for a little while; his throat slit and one of his eyes aimed off to the side in an odd direction.

Your fingers wrapped around the handle and you fell outside backwards stumbling right into Mayuri. The surgeon caught your wrists before you could do anything else while you kicked and yelled trying to break free. He'd had enough when you managed to land a lucky elbow into his stomach with all your thrashing and he snarled shoving you towards the couch.

You banged your knee painfully before landing on your side hyperventilating under Mayuri's annoyed glare.

"What.. what.. why..?" you were babbling senselessly. This was the first time you'd seen a dead body.

"Tch. That man was here for me. It was fortunate that he went into the wrong apartment. Nine years later and the small fry are still incompetent as ever."

"H-How did..?"

 How did you know he was here?

That was what you wanted to say but your mind was racing too fast for your mouth to keep up.

"I was waiting for you to return; there are matters that I needed to discuss with you. I saw that the door was open and let myself in. It seems it was the right decision wouldn't you agree?"

 Fuck.

Something else occurred to you that made your blood run cold, "Shiki. Oh, fuck."

Your phone was by the door and you scrambled for it, pulling it from your bag with trembling fingers, needing three tries to get it unlocked. You had new texts from him that he'd sent right after you'd stormed off out of the diner.

 S: U good?

 S: Sorry abt being a dick before ik alot of shit is bothering you I was just tryna cheer u up :(

A few hours passed before he texted again.

 S: Listen I'm gonna be late getting in today cause that yakuza guy just called and said he wanted to meet at that construction site something to do with the surgeon idk it could help us out

 S: If u need to get it off your chest we can talk when I get home if ur still up and maybe watch a movie or smth

 S: Anyway ttyls bitch <3

You stared and stared at the text until your gaze went through the screen unseeing and you gripped the plastic so tightly it creaked in your hand.

"What is it?"

Mayuri's voice came from somewhere behind you, close but barely audible over the roaring in your ears, and it snapped you into action. You pulled your wet clothes back on throwing your phone back into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Maybe it was nothing but the familiar feeling in your gut was telling you otherwise.

The surgeon didn't try to stop you when you ran back out of the apartment not waiting for the elevator and taking the stairs two at a time until you were back outside. It was still raining as you sprinted for the cranes in the distance marking the construction site Shiki had mentioned. Their tall black skeletons rose taller the closer you got and you were completely out of breath by the time you reached the chain link surrounding the area.

You tossed your bag over first following not far behind as you climbed the fence dropping into the mud with a silent plap drowned out by the rain. You passed two black sedans as you moved deeper straining your eyes for any sign of Shiki and your blood turned to ice as the scene came into view. In the clearing amidst the buildings lit by the security lights you saw your partner. He had been beaten quite horribly already; bleeding from a cut over his eye and lower lip washed pink as the water ran in rivulets over his skin.

He was clearly exhausted sagged in the mud while three yakuza surrounded him from all sides positioned to prevent his escape. You didn't think he would even be able to walk right now let alone have any real chance of getting away.

The man in front of Shiki landed a viscous kick to his face after asking him something you couldn't make out, not happy with whatever he'd said.

You were paralyzed as the man landed a few more viscous kicks into Shiki's gut until he was coughing a mixture of bile and blood. The rain had almost stopped and you could make out bits and pieces of what was being said.

"...no one.." Shiki said earning him another kick, this time to his face. His nose was mangled beyond recognition from the abuse, his once handsome face turned ugly by brutality.

"..anyone else know..?" the yakuza was speaking again.

The tall muscular gangster easily dragged Shiki up by the hair until he was at eye level, too weak to grasp at the arm that held him, Shiki's face contorted in agony. You don't notice where the gun comes from when the yakuza pulls it out from somewhere inside his suit. All you see is the suppressor pressing into the hollow of Shiki's throat as the hammer is dragged back and the safety released.

 You should be doing something, right?

Shiki's body is like a rag doll; his body is flopping so unnaturally from side to side with the way the man is shaking him like he has no bones left. You realize it's because his legs are broken.

"..don't think..lying.." the farthest yakuza says something and the man holding Shiki agrees.

Shiki coughs and your heart breaks a little more at the wet rattling sounds behind it.

You can't feel the tears mixing with the rainwater on your cheeks.

Shiki manages to spit in the face of the bastard and it only causes him to grin entirely unphased by Shiki's defiance. He drops him into a crumpled heap before rolling him over with his foot and pointing the gun at his face. Seeing someone get shot is nothing like how it is in the movies as it turned out.

The yakuza started to squeeze the trigger and you felt your mouth open in a scream that was muffled almost immediately by someone's hand clamping down across the lower half of your face. Someone was dragging you away from the horrific scene. Distantly, you knew you were going into shock; this wasn't the first time after all. You remembered this feeling every time you thought about your mother.

 But you had to do something right?

 Right?

The sound of the gunshot going off was a soft thwack; nothing like the overused sound effect. There was no explosion of blood to dramatize what was happening, Shiki's body convulsed once, twice, then lay still as the bullets seemed to disappear into nothing. No sign that the gun had even been what had killed him at all. Not all the movies and internet access in the world could have prepared you for the real thing.

Shiki was dead. Your friend and partner was reduced to nothing more than cooling meat in the rain, his glazed eyes seeing nothing as his head flopped to the side so sickeningly limp. Towards you. Accusing you for just watching it happen.

  I WANT MY MOMMY. YOU'RE LYING.

 SHE WOULDN'T LEAVE ME ALONE.

 MOMMY. MOMMY. MOMMY. MOMMY.

  Ah, yes.

 It was like that time wasn't it?

So why was it that you were dragged away while someone you cared about slipped through your fingers again? It wasn't right to leave his body behind like that. You wondered if the yakuza would dispose of him so that he was never found or leave him for the construction workers in the morning.

You couldn't even cry as shock fully enveloped you like a familiar heavy blanket and you welcomed it not ready to cope with anything yet.

Time seemed to dilate around you (or maybe you blacked out - you weren't really sure) and you became vaguely aware of riding in a vehicle. Collapsed against the passenger side door as the world outside was reduced to glowing trails of light reflected in the raindrops running along the glass. The only thing you could see was Shiki's dead eyes staring back at you from the darkness.

You were going to be sick, you realized, and only just managed to get the door open enough for you to empty your stomach contents along the highway. It left you lightheaded with a foul taste in your mouth and you patted yourself down trying to find a lighter. There was a crumpled blunt in your pocket, the pocket of the jacket that Shiki had gotten you for your birthday last year, and you barely got it between your lips with your hands shaking so badly.

As soon as it was lit Mayuri reached across and crushed it into the ash tray wordlessly.

"What the fuck?" you sounded hoarse.

It was the first thing either of you had said since he'd practically kidnapped you an hour ago. Maybe two. Who was counting at this point.

"Keep your filthy habits out of my truck."

"My mistake I'll keep my smoking to a minimum in the murder truck. Just out of curiosity how many people have you killed?"

"Twenty-seven," Mayuri said without hesitation or remorse.

The anger you'd intended to vent went out of you like a deflated balloon at such a high number.

"Did you feel better after you.. after dealing with Pernida?"

 What were you asking all of a sudden?

This was not the way you'd intended for the conversation to go at all.

"It's only natural for someone like you to equate what I did to something as trite as revenge," he drawled condescendingly, "It was never just about Nemu; it was about sending a message. No matter how deep the rot of Reio's influence goes he isn't untouchable. He has had to live with the shadow hanging over him for nine years as a constant reminder of what if."

You were reminded of Mayuri's angry outburst while you were on his operating table just for speaking his daughter's name yet he spoke as if what he had done wasn't entirely personal. You couldn't tell if he was delusional or in denial that he had stooped to the yakuza's level for his own pleasure to take revenge.

"If it was about sending a message then why do you have a fucking arm in your apartment?"

The surgeon grinned at that sending a chill down your spine, "Every year on the anniversary of Nemu's death I send a piece of Pernida to Reio's office. That arm is all that remains."

You didn't know what the appropriate response was to that without offending him so you stayed silent deciding that the windshield wipers were more interesting than finding out more about Kurotsuchi Mayuri. You'd had enough for one night and needed to dissociate from reality for just a little while.

[dreamyinception-world]

𝒜 𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉

pairing: Fem Gamer!reader + Jung Wooyoung

w/c: 2k

Genre: Established Relationship, Smut, Slight Angst (woo is a sad boy for two secs)

Summary: On a day of virtual gaming and fun with your friends, a monthly tradition that you all enjoy, your boyfriend arrives home with some small favor that you simply can’t deny. 

Tws: Swearing/Foul Language

Sws: Pussy Eating (Woo goes mf IN my guy), Sensory Stimulation/Kink, Hair Pulling, Teasing, Overstimulation, Oral Fixation, Thigh Smothering, Pleasing Sub Woo (for the most part at least), Begging, Pussy Face Fuck, Slight Orgasm Denial

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: If the brain keeps cooking, let her cook as I always say. This is an idea that came to me randomly as I was getting ready in the morning. If anyone would like another part of this shot, please let me know! Otherwise enjoy and please let me know what you think. Thank you!

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕚𝕕 + ℕ𝕠𝕟𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕! ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥!

As a reminder, my work is only for those who are eighteen years or older. Anyone who attempts to interact with my work or blog who is underage will be blocked immediately. You have been warned.

©𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚𝒊𝒏��𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 2024 || 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ♡

☆ . ° .*₊° . ☆⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔  𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙𓆩⟡𓆪⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙. • ☆ . ° ☆

“Hey, Y/N! You missed your shot! What happened?”

“S-Sorry! My computer’s acting weird!” 

Your fingers tightened around the ridges of your controller, trying to keep your breathing leveled and your body relaxed. 

You could only hope that you didn’t sound too weird on the other line where your friends were talking and having playful banter. 

It was game night after all, the titular moment of the month where everyone chooses their favorite game to play for a few hours to relax and unwind from the hustle and bustle of life and its demanding nature.

It had become somewhat a tradition after completing college and going on with your separate lives to keep in touch somehow— even if it meant through pixelated hand to hand combat.

Unfortunately for your friends, and consequently yourself, they didn’t have an oh so loving yet sometimes mischievous boyfriend named Wooyoung to subdue.

Genuinely, the moment of pure suspicion should have come when he entered the room 15 minutes ago, an all too sweet smile lingering on his face as rolled over beside you. With a phone in his hand and otherwise rapt attention to the shooter game your crew had indulged in, you had honestly thought nothing of it.

It wasn’t until about less than halfway through your match that you began to notice his demeanor become a bit..off out of your peripherals. 

His glances at you began to linger a bit longer, his eyes combed down your figure with longer glances towards your favorite fluffy panda shorts and matching over the knee socks. 

He was debating something, but you were too absorbed in the game with your mic turned on to ask him.

It wasn’t until his hand fell onto your thigh, brushing his thumb against it that you knew something was up. 

Once the first match finally came to a close, you excused yourself and muted your mic.

“Baby, do you need to ask me something? You were waiting so long, I’m sorry.”

The boy perked and you almost immediately noticed the way the top of his cheeks began to tinge a light shade of pink.

“Mm, no it’s okay. I don’t want to keep you away from your game-” His words were cut off by a small, loving peck with a warm smile. You cupped his cheeks, hearing your friends chattering on the other line through your headsets.

“It’s okay, I have some time. What is it, Woobie?”

He hesitated, biting the inside of his lip with eyes flickering between your computer screen and your face. The longer he took to respond, the more concerned you started to become.

Were you playing so much that he felt nervous to ask for your attention?

“Wooyoung? Are you-”

“I wanted to taste you.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out. “H-Huh?”

Wooyoung cleared his throat, shifting himself in his computer chair, his eyes glued to the ground.

“We haven’t messed around or anything in a while— I know you’ve been busy and so have I so it’s been difficult for us to both be in the mood and not too tired for it to happen.” He took in a short inhale and looked directly into your eyes.

“But I miss you so badly and it’s driving me crazy..please?”

It took a minute for your mind to system reboot after his confession before you cupped his cheeks, pressing a more lingering kiss onto his lips. When the two of you separated, you searched his face for any lingering feelings besides the evident lust and desire.

My poor baby..

“Yo where the hell is she? I wanna start the next round~”

“I don’t know! Y/N! Are you there?”

“Sorry guys! I needed to help Wooyoung with something. I’ll be there in just a sec!��� You released your finger off the speaker button, turning your attention back to your patient lover, waiting for your response still.

With fingers combing lovingly through his hair, you give him a small nod of approval. He almost immediately shakes his head, taking your hand and presses open mouth kisses to the back of them.

“I need to hear you say it. Do you want me to please you?”

You bite the inside of your lip, feeling yourself throb at the sensation of his tongue running slowly against your knuckles. He doesn’t push you for a response, leisurely continuing his actions down your hand to your fingertips.

He fixes you with a calm, yet sweltering stare, finding back a laugh or smile at the way you seemingly shrink back in response.

“O-Okay you can. Just don’t make me mess up too hard on my game. I d-don’t want the others to-AH!”

Wooyoung barely wastes any time after being given the green light, kicking his chair back towards his desk after grabbing the cushion from off of it. He finds his way comfortably on the floor, pulling you forward by your legs and stirring a yelp out of you. He mumbles something about how good you smell and the cuteness of your outfit whilst simultaneously yanking your bottoms off in one fell swoop.

That’s how you got here, with your one leg being held off to the side and the other perched onto your needy boyfriend’s shoulder, panties “unfortunately” being ripped and his tongue dragging against your clit.

You were silently ordered by his glance and a raise of an eyebrow to continue playing your game, biting back a small moan that was threatening to fall past your lips as he glided his tongue up and down your whole core.

He let out a small hum, not loud enough to be heard by anyone but you and him, reaffirming his grip possessively as he languidly spit on your clit. He watched it slowly trickle down before slurping around the slightly puffy bud.

Your muscles tightened in his grasp, mouth drawing open into a small ‘o’ with half lidded eyes, struggling to keep yourself focused enough to follow the orders given by your team.

Every single ounce of the game contrasted with the pure torture that you were being subjected to, albeit by your own approval.

And of course tonight was the one night that he decided to take his time to make every string keeping you together would slowly begin to snap.

He moved his hands up to your waistline, keeping himself pressed against you and rendering your lower half completely at will to him, shifting your dripping cunt up and down against his tongue with dark eyes. 

“Take the shot, Y/N! Take it!”

You practically slammed your thumb against the button of your controller, the boom of your weapon cracking into your ears though you barely registered if your aim was even correct. Your body slid a quarter down, controller barely hanging on one hand as you gripped the top of Wooyoung’s hair and rolled down in unison.

“M-Mm!” You pressed your lips together, removing your hand to shakily press a button on your headphones and shoving them off your head with the mic turned away from your mouth, sweat dripping down your chin as you fought the urge to beg.

His lips upturned at the sight of your disheveled look.

Not yet, just a little more.

You held back a whine when his speed slowed, believing that maybe he was going to take mercy on you with the kisses pressed to your inner thighs, and turned your attention back to the game.

Though your movements were slowed from your head nearly spinning, you continued on with the match.

Moments later, he had his eyes on you again, sucking one of your lips hard in his mouth and letting it out with a loud pop. 

Before you could even begin to lightly scold him, he pushed down on your mound with his palm and flicked his tongue quickly against your clit before groaning and burying his face into you, sucking on your clit hungrily and messily. 

He ignored the mix of drool and juices that ran down his chin and dripped onto the chair. His only care in the world was the way your eyes immediately screwed shut and your chair creaked in protest from being bent backward. 

Wooyoung’s eyes nearly rolled at the sensations of your fluffy socks brushing against his ears and pressure of your thighs around his head, brushing his tongue against your entrance before abusing her swollen bud between his lips.

“W-Woo, p-please!” The cry slipped past your lips without a second thought, unable to control the tremble of your thighs and flexing of your stomach muscles as you inched closer to your release.

“You don’t have to beg baby.” He purred, taking the short second to breathe with lips shimmering.

“I’ll give you anything you want and more.”

He dipped his head back down, reveling in the filthy noises that were erupting from your mouth as he slurped loudly, nodding his head and tightening his hold on you hard to keep you from running away from him.

You’ve almost completely forgotten about your game now, instead chasing the sweet high that has you reaching for anything to steady yourself. 

With one hand gripping the head of the chair and the other one his head, your whole body jolts with a sharp and shaky moan, cumming on his face. 

He wickedly lets out a muffled chuckle, eyes falling closed to collect his prize against your feeble pushes of his head and whines of desperation. Satisfaction on his face, he finally releases you and earns a swift smack to the back of his head.

“Y-You said you weren’t going to distract me too much from my game!”

“I didn’t say anything.” His voice dripped with lust still, moving himself up to your face with a lazy smile. Your eyes narrowed at him with an arm slung around his shoulders, allowing him to enjoy your deep kisses and tongue before you tugged him back by his hair.

“Are you going to punish me? Do it. Please?” You shook your head in disbelief, seeing him smile wide and laugh.

“Yo, Y/N! At least mute your mic if you’re going to have a live session with your boyfriend!”

You push Wooyoung off of you and scramble to slide your headsets back on, only to realize that the button you pressed was for noise cancellation, not muting.

“Oh my god, I cannot believe I had to be subjected to that! And it was in the middle of our game?!”

“Next time, just tap out of the round!”

A chorus of laughter erupted over the call mixed in with you cursing them out through stutters and your burning cheeks, yelling for them to stop teasing you.

Snapping your head around to the doorway, Wooyoung made himself comfortable leaning against the frame, swiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and lightly sucking on it with a smirk.

“You are so fucking dead.” 

.☆ . ° . *₊ ° . ☆. °:. *₊ 🄶🄰🄼🄴 🄾🅅🄴🅁!.. • ☆ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!.　 . • ☆ . °:. *₊ ° .☆

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @atiny-piratequeen @atiny-dazzlinglight @kimnamshiks @little-lazuli @catnipacid

.☆ . ° . *₊ ° . ☆. °:. *₊ 🄶🄰🄼🄴 🄾🅅🄴🅁!.. • ☆ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!.　 . • ☆ . °:. *₊ ° .☆

[chosotallgf]

UNEXPECTED TURN - CHOSO KAMO [chapter 1]

SUMMARIZE.. y/n never bothered getting to know choso after the shibuya incident happened and he became an ally to jujutsu high but what happens when he decides to try and get to know her on a personal level and they start getting put on mission together

TAGS.. choso x fem!reader, shibuya incident arc spoilers!!, post shibuya incident au, character dearth mentioned, slow burn, smut, angst, reader is a sorcerer, oral sex, masturbation + more

A/N.. hi this is my first fanfic ever also I posted it on A03 under the same username. keep in mind I’m a beginner at writing lol. like & rebolgs are appreciated | DONT NOT REUPLOAD :D

………………………………………………………………………………….

you and choso where out having lunch discussing your plans for an upcoming mission later that day. It’s been half a year since the shibuya incident, even after the many deaths that took place that night you ended up finding yourself making a new connection later down the line

choso become an ally for jujutsu high short after the incident, first it started off with you two getting place together to go on small missions together outside of Tokyo. When you first heard of the idea of you and choso being partner up you weren’t a big fan of it, everyone seem to connect well off of first interaction and start to enjoy choso company especially after finding out that he is yuji half brother but you? barely even talk/avoided him outside of missions.

“what are you thinking about”? choso asked as he saw your blank expression as you two were waiting on the food to come out “Huh? oh.. just that how much I hate working with you that’s all” you softly smirk at him. you love teasing choso so often that become y’all daily thing to do to each other. One day after you and choso got back from a mission you were about to head out of jujutsu high until you heard fast steps catching up to you.

“hey.. um y/n you have a moment?” choso asked awkward while scratching the back of his head. you then turn around and sign “yeah what is it?” choso honestly wasn’t sure how he should approach you, when y’all get sent on mission its just strictly about the mission no personal stuff about each other lives, nothing.

he kinda took the hint that you didn’t want to conversation about anything outside of that 3 weeks after the incident when you both were on the train headed to koyto and he asked how long you been a sorcery at jujutsu high and you responded with “why do you care just let’s just do our jobs, the faster the better”

every since then choso didn’t dare to bring up anything after that until the day he generally was curious and had enough of this ‘only talk during and about the mission thing’ he wasn’t a pushy person but he can bet there has to be more to you than this nonchalant mask you are pulling because of the story’s yuji told him when he himself first started out and you and gojo teach him. he had to know why you were so casual with everyone but not him

“Sorry to bother you y/n, don’t take this the wrong way but did I genuinely do something to offend you? every since I came to jujutsu high and going on mission I feel like you been bothered by my presence of that makes any sense” your response could go south either way choso though he didn’t know if you would just curse him out or just turn around and keep ignoring him like you been. “Are you that much of new puppy that you need everyone attention and become friends?”

“hey wait a min don’t go yet” as you turned your head a little bit choso could see your eyes get glossy. “Let me go pls” you barley spoke. A single tear fell down your face. “I’m sorry if it’s becaus-“ choso was about to finish his sentence until gojo loudly interrupted them.

“Heyy choso how have you been? Oh y/n you there too? did you file the last mission yet I haven’t seen it yet if you did” gojo said when he got a glimpse of your hair behind choso back as he was walking up to y’all. as soon as you heard gojo voice you quickly pull your wrist back from choso and he let go.

you then quickly rush off campus and into your car. “Hey come back” choso shouted. You thought how embarrassing that was,now you wouldn’t even dare show your face in front of choso now after he seen you in that state. “I guess she really doesn’t like doing reports after all” gojo said confused.

part 2 coming soon… don’t forget to like & reblog :)

[thenasoneshots]

Lafayette Oneshot - Because Fuck You, That's Why!

Requested?: No

Prompt: 6."I-I'm pregnant." 7. "I'll be here for you, through the dark." 11. "You gotta stop doing that." "Doing what?" "Saying things that make me want to kiss you!"

Type of oneshot: Angst/Fluff

Timing: Modern AU

Reader's Relations: John’s Sister

Warnings: None If any of this is triggering, please let me know and I’ll warn for it next time!

Other notes: You live with John

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

I sobbed as I hid myself under the covers, forgetting that I hadn’t locked the door to my room.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), what happened?”

“Hmm.”

“What exactly does ‘Hmm’ mean?” John asked, pulling the covers back so he could see my tear-stained face.

“It means ‘None of your fucking business’. Leave me alone, please,” I muttered, sending him the middle finger.

“(Y/n), I’m your brother. I am not leaving this room until you tell me.”

“I-I’m pregnant,” I spoke in an almost whisper, hoping he hadn’t heard, but when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I knew he had, “I’ll be here for you. Through the dark.”

I smiled slightly and dried my eyes, “T-thank you.”

“Do you know who the father is?”

I shook my head, “All I know is it’s some French guy.”

“Okay. That’s fine with me. I won’t judge you, (Y/n). Anything I can get you?” John asked, his normal cinnamon roll self returning after being concerned about me. I just shook my head, “Not right now, but thank you.”

--------------------------------JOHN’S POV

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing,” I replied, looking at my phone for the thousandth time that minute, my leg jittering uncontrollably. 

“Something’s wrong. John, we’re your friends, we can tell when you’re bothered by something.”

“Okay fine. I’m worried about (Y/n). She went out this morning and said she’d text me when she was nearly home. I still have not received that text, and I can’t help but think that something has happened,” I answered, wracking my hands through my hair.

“Oh.”

“Really? That’s all you say?”

Before anything else could be said, there was the sound of a door opening and some muttering. Then I heard a familiar voice, “Uncle John! Look what Mumm-” the young girl cut herself off before dashing out the same way she’d come.

YOUR POV

“Mummy! Why didn’t you tell me Uncle John had people over!”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Sweetie?” I asked, bending down to Marié’s level, and wiping the tears from her eyes.

“There’s people sitting in the living room with Uncle John and I don’t know who they are, or that they would be here!”

“It’s okay, Sweetie. We can ask your Uncle about it,” I replied, picking her up and walking into the living room, “John?”

“(Y/n)! I’m so glad you’re alright! Why didn’t you text me?!”

“Phone died,” I replied. I’ll put it on charge when I go upstairs. Sorry.”

“Mon ami, are you going to introduce us to this belle famme here or are we going to have to make assumptions?”

“Oh sorry. This is (Y/n). My little sister. (Y/n), Meet my friends; Alexander, but we all just call him Alex,” John spoke, pointing to a relatively short guy with dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, “Hercules,” a taller male with a bandana wrapped around his head, and “And Lafayette. His name is too long, so we all just call hi-” John stopped talking when I let out a small gasp and turned around, running out of the room and up to my bedroom, letting myself slide down the door once inside and muttering to myself.

JOHN’S POV

“Do you have something to say, Laf?”

“Whatever do you mean, Mon ami? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Then why’d she run off the minute she made eye contact with you?” I asked, turning to him, raising an eyebrow, “She knows you.”

I could tell he was trying to wrack his brain, when I felt an arm wrap around my legs, “Uppy!” I bent down and picked Marié up. As the five-year-old started to play with my hair, I continued to stare Laf down. Then it clicked, “Laf, don’t tell me… You don’t happen to be Marié’s father, do you?”

“Mon ami, that is an absurd thought. I told you already I have never met ta souer before. How could that even happen?”

I sighed and sat down on the sofa again, Marié now happily sitting in my lap, “Laf, like how you can tell when something is worrying me, I can tell when you’re lying. (Y/n) knows you.”

Before he could reply, my phone pinged. I picked it up and looked at the message to see it was from (Y/n): “Can you ask Lafayette to come upstairs? He deserves to know…”

“Laf, my sister wants to talk to you. You ‘deserve to know’ something.”

YOUR POV

By the time I sent John a message, I was sitting on my bed, wracking my hands through my hair That’s when I heard a knock on the door, “Excuse moi, may I come in?”

“Yes,” I responded, trying to calm myself down.

“(Y/n)... John thought of something downstairs..”

“Yes. You’re Marié’s father. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you, but I didn’t know I was pregnant until I got back to America, and by that point, it was too late. “C-Could you ever forgive me?” I muttered, my shoulders wracking with the sobs I was letting out.

“Mon ami,” he replied, bending down in front of me and placing his hands on my shoulders comfortingly, “I should be the one asking for your forgiveness. I am the one who got you pregnant, and I haven’t done anything to help with the result of it.”

“You didn’t know she existed, Laf,” I muttered, reaching up and wiping a tear from his cheek, “You’ve got to stop doing that, you know.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing things that make me want to kiss you,” I answered, my face going bright red.

“Y-you want to kiss moi?”

“Y-yeah. Honestly, when we met in France, I fell in love with you, and the night Marié happened, I wasn’t actually that drunk. I’m sorry if this is creeping you out, I mean, I’m just your friend’s sister now. The past is the past, right?” Instead of a response, Laf just removed a hand from my shoulder and placed it on my cheek, “Mon ami, may I kiss you?”

And… my face was bright red again, “Y-you feel the same?” Again, there was no verbal response, only a nod. I nodded back and leaned in, kissing him, soon finding myself lying down on my bed, Laf hovering over me.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”

I immediately broke off at the sound of my brother’s voice, as I turned to see his face; red with anger, “LAF THAT IS MY SISTER!”

“Et c'est ma petite amie,” Laf replied, causing me to blush for the third time in ten minutes. Due to my French knowledge, I knew he’d just called me his girlfriend.

“Fine. You hurt her, you’re dead, Laf.”

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

“Marié, how would you feel about getting a little sibling?” I asked the now eight-year-old as I fiddled with the ring on my left finger. Her face immediately lit up, “Really?!”

I nodded and she squealed, running off happily, probably to tell her friends. I stood up, however, I could feel eyes boring into me from behind, “Why are you asking Marié that specific question, (Y/n)?”

“Because fuck you, that’s why, John. My love life is none of your business.”

—----------------------------------END OF ONESHOT

Finally back to writing Hamilton oneshots hehe.

[jvdeiscool]

hi Jude!!

Sooo, I was wondering… could I request a Dontis x Reader? Also can you make the reader Pronoun's just them and they if you don’t mind! (I’m female but it’s just for the my lady’s and gentlemen Dontis fans :3) I would normally go for Angst, but I’m going for fluff this timeeee!

Have a wonderful dayyy! :D

ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ - ᴅᴏɴᴛɪꜱ ☆

we need fluff in the sakuverse tumblr fandom at the moment it’s all just angst 😭 so that’s why i’m here to deliver >:-)

this is not proof read so pls tell me if there are any mistakes D:

gender neutral reader as always !

tw/cw: none!

“your hairs so pretty.”

dontis looked up from his book, glancing to the side to look at you. he saw you staring at him from the couch, and he chuckled at your gawking.

“thank you, hunter. i appreciate it.” he said, eyes going back to his book. you pouted to yourself and tried to get his attention again, this time walking over to him and stroking gently over the top of his head, being careful of his horns. he looked back up at you and gave you a mischievous look.

“what are you up too? you know if you wanted my attention you could of just said.” he chuckled at you.

“it’s not that…” you spoke, averting your gaze and instead paying attention to his horns, picking out the patterns and detail that lay upon them, still stroking your hands through his hair.

“oh really?” he asked you.

"okay maybe." you confessed. "can i braid your hair?" you asked, looking down at him. he gave you a gentle smile.

"of course you can hunter, i can even show you different types of braids to teach you if you want." he said, putting his book down and turning to you. you gave him a smile back.

"yes please."

──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

it had been about an hour now, and by this point, dontis had all different types of braids in his hair. still, he didn't seem to mind. he had just gotten started onto teaching you a new type of braid.

"so you go over like this, and fold it over like this and repeat that step, see?" he said, beckoning you to try. he gave you the hair tie and you got started.

you had a concentrated look on your face, as you tried to copy dontis's skilled hand movements. after a few errors, you finally got the hang of it. starting on the braid, you took it slow as you carefully copied what he had shown you.

all that time, he was looking at you with an adoring look on his face. he thought you looked adorable, brows furrowed and your eyes semi squinted as you carefully braided his hair.

you had just finished, and was trying to put the hair tie onto the end of the braid, but your hands couldn't quite get it right. dontis just sat and watched you, trying not to laugh to knock your confidence down.

eventually, you managed to get it right. you leaned back and admired your work with a proud look on your face.

"i did it dontis! see?" you said, gently lifting part of the braid to show him, after all his hair was long enough for him to see at eye level. he smiled at you and admired what you had done.

"well done sweetheart." he said, reaching to cup your face and pepper kisses all over your face quickly. you giggled as his lips tickled against your face and neck. you reached up to cup the back of his head gently as he continued.

"ahaha dontis that tickles!" you said in between laughs. he chuckled into your skin.

"i'm sorry hunter, but you're just so adorable that i can't help it." he said, giving you one last kiss on your lips.

he pulled back and you two stared at each other for a moment, before you spoke up.

"thank you for teaching me, dontis." you said, leaning into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

"mmm, thank you for being here with me." he said, nuzzling into your hair.

ACK im so sorry this is so short 😭 i had to think quickly with this idea i swear it wasn’t meant to be this short im sorry 💔 i hope this is okay tho !!!

thank you for reading <3

- jude 🌱

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Fight Me, Love Me, Save Me Pt. 3

This will fill the, Isolated/Trapped square on my @jacklesversebingo card. This is my last entry on my bingo card!!! This is the first time, out of NUMEROUS bingos, that I've actually completed my whole card!! 😍😍

Summary: A series in three parts exploring Y/N's and Dean's relationship from bickering children, to love and broken promises, to a plea for salvation.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Mild smut, more, making out, really. Show level violence. Angst. Grief. Sadness. Fluff. The usual from me. 😜

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 7,698 (🫣🫣 I'm so sorry - this last part had a lot of story to tell!)

A/N: So this series will fill the last three squares on my bingo card. The first part covers "It's Mine, and you can't have it." Part two will cover Broken Promises, (Nov 12) and part three will be for the Isolated/Trapped square. (Nov 19 23 - I'm very sorry! But it's here now!)

Series Masterlist

I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please remember to like, reblog and/or comment. Means the world to us writers! ❤️

The dividers included here were created by @talesmaniac89

Dean sat in the empty motel room, grateful to be alone once again. He'd been avoiding their motels as much as possible over the last couple of weeks because he needed that solitude. It was too hard to be in the same room with her; to sit across the table from her and not be able to reach over and take her hand - it was awful.

So, he'd been sleeping in the Impala's back seat a lot lately, making due with the confined space, and trying not to think about the very pleasurable times he'd spent back there with Y/N in his lap. 

He was pretty sure those times wouldn't come again. Y/N had made it fairly clear she wasn't interested in moving forward now. She'd barely spoken two words to him in as many weeks. He'd come close to apologizing a few times. But then his anger talked him out of it. 

I have nothing to apologize for, he thought angrily. 

She was the one who needed to apologize. But his anger at her didn't make it any easier to keep his hands off of her when she was around. It didn't stop his heart from squeezing painfully tight every time he looked at her and remembered how perfect she felt in his arms.

Which was why he stayed away.

But sometimes he couldn't avoid coming back. He was back now because his dad had called him that morning and told him they were trailing a big nest of vamps a few towns over. Seemed to be a nasty group, so they were gonna need all the help they could get in planning how to take them down. 

He knew he'd promised their dads that their relationship (or loss of it) wouldn't interfere with the team. So, he came back immediately.

But when he got to the motel they'd been staying in for the last while, it was empty. So, he just sat and waited for them to return.

When the door finally opened he looked up, expecting to see the group of them coming back. But only Y/N slipped through the door, pulling up short when she saw him sitting at the table. 

There were a few seconds of frozen staring from both of them before Dean broke eye contact and took his gun out of his inside jacket pocket and started pulling it apart, pretending he was going to clean it, simply to give his hands something to do. 

Y/N stepped all the way into the room and closed the door behind her. She took off her jacket and sat on the couch under the window. Dean was hyper aware of her every move; he could smell her perfume and he gritted his teeth against its effect. 

He snuck in a glance at her and had to hold in a moan at how fucking gorgeous she looked. She was wearing tight black jeans and a pale pink sweater that fell off her shoulder, revealing a black bra strap. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing her long, extremely kissable neck. 

Dean bit his lip and then swept his gaze away quickly when Y/N looked up at him. 

Jesus Christ, being here is torture, Dean thought.

After another minute of silence, Y/N gave a huff of annoyance. “This is so stupid.” She said suddenly, the words bursting out of her like an explosion. 

Dean looked up from his gun cautiously. He didn't say anything, waiting for her to elaborate. She stood up and walked over to the table, plunking herself down on the chair across from him. He sat back in his chair and tried to pretend he wasn't retreating from her effect on him. Being so close, and yet so far, was extraordinarily painful.

She opened her arms wide, questioning. “This is stupid.” She repeated, “Can't we just move on from this, like we always do?”

He shrugged as though he was indifferent and then looked her in the eye.

“Sure, if I hear an apology in there somewhere, we can definitely leave it behind.”

Y/N clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, making the same hurt and anger from their last conversation begin to burn in his heart again.

“Apologize?” She said with disdain. “For what?”

Dean clenched his jaw to keep from screaming at her and trying to force her to see how much her attitude and judgment had hurt him.

Instead, with extreme effort, he kept his voice low and steady. “How about, for breaking your promises?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again. “God, you’re so dramatic!” She said angrily. “I didn't ‘break my promises’.” 

“Yeah, you did, actually!” Dean shot back, some of his feelings seeping into his tone despite himself. “You promised you wouldn't get mad. Swore you wouldn't freak out.”

He tapped two fingers against his chest. “I didn't wanna talk about it! I TOLD you I didn't wanna talk about it. But you insisted.” He said, pointing his two fingers at her now. “So I told you the truth - and you nailed me with it.”

He fell silent, and Y/N watched him. Her nostrils were flared and she wore the stubborn, defensive expression that meant she wasn't going to back down. 

“Yeah well,” she said, skating her eyes away from his, “it was a LOT of truth.”

“Whatever, the point is,” Dean said coldly, “you promised I could trust you with the truth and then you broke your promise; you immediately got pissed and judgy.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes a third time, and it was the last straw for Dean. “Yeah, okay.” He said, quickly reassembling his partially disassembled gun. “Tell my dad I'll be back later.”

He put the gun back in his pocket and stood up. “Clearly you don't give a shit, so whatever - this is done.”

He stomped towards the door.

“Wait!” Y/N said quickly, standing up. But he ignored her and reached the door. “What do you mean, done? You mean…the conversation is done, or…?”

She left the question dangling and Dean turned back to her. He took all of her in - her beauty that clobbered him, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, her expression of anger, fear, and stubbornness - and he shook his head.

“We were stupid to think this was ever gonna work.” He said quietly. He saw her expression crumple for a moment and it was almost his undoing. But then she jutted her chin and her voice was accusing as she shouted at him, her voice full of derision.

“You're telling me I have to apologize, but what about you? Where have you been, Dean? You're hardly ever here. So, who are you…just where have you been staying?”

Her question hit him like a punch. He clenched his teeth, anger simmering with hurt. “Why don't you just ask me what you really wanna ask me, Y/N?”

Y/N's face was dark and stormy and her voice dripped with acid. “Fine.” She enunciated her words exactly. “Who are you sleeping with now?”

Dean didn't let the wound she caused show on his face, instead he let his own arrow fly.

He shrugged carelessly and let ice settle over his expression. “Whoever says yes.”

Despite the direct hit he knew he scored, he took no pleasure in drawing blood and turned away quickly from what he was leaving behind.

***

Three days later

Y/N woke up in the dark, choking on blood. She instinctively turned her head towards the ground, coughing and spitting the coppery taste out of her mouth. She jumped as a voice spoke beside her in the dark.

“Now, now, sweet thing, you just drink up.” As her eyes adjusted somewhat to the dark she could make out the shape of a man standing beside her. He reached out and petted her hair before gripping the back of her head and holding it still as he pushed his wrist against her mouth and she tasted the blood again. 

She screamed and tried to get away, but her wrists were bound above her and the sounds of chains rattled as she fought against his hold. Finally he pulled his wrist away from her mouth, but whispered in her ear.

“Sorry to lock you away like this, beautiful, but the others are gonna be jealous and want a piece of you and I want you all to myself.” She felt him lean into her, placing chapped lips against her cheek. “You were just too pretty to eat. I wanna keep ya.”

Y/N was choking and gagging on his blood, and as terrifying truths began to push their way into her mind, tears clogged her throat as well.

The man ran a hand down her cheek and she shuddered. “I know you feel rotten right now, beautiful,” the man whispered again, “but that's just because you haven't eaten.”

He ran his hands up her arms and tightened the rope that bound her wrists. She looked up and saw that the rope was tied into some kind of pulley system that disappeared into the dark above her, those were the chains she’d heard.

“Now, I don’t want my scared little filly to run, so…” He stepped away from her and began tugging on a rope that worked the pulley, raising her a foot off the ground so she dangled there like a fish on a hook. “You just stay put while I fetch you some dinner.”

He came back to stand in front of her and let both his hands trace down over her sides, coming to rest on her hips and squeezing them. “Then after you’ve eaten, and you’re feelin’ better, we can have some real fun.”

Y/N tried to move away from him, but he just slapped her ass and left her swinging there as he walked out. He slid a door open, and as light spilled in from the other side, she realized they were in a barn, and above her was a loft. The pulley system she was attached to was for hauling hay up into the high storage spot. 

The man blew her a kiss and closed the door with a thud.

Left there in the dark - trapped, alone, and terrified - Y/N began to panic. She struggled uselessly against the rope that bound her, but she just swung pathetically back and forth. She refused to think about the fact that her eyes had begun to adjust remarkably well to the dark, and her ears were starting to pick up sounds that had been beyond them minutes earlier.

She knew what that man really was, knew that he wasn’t really a man, but she couldn’t focus on what was happening to her or she’d start screaming and never stop.

Into her panic and fear, Dean’s face appeared in her mind’s eye, and she took strength from it, as though he was there with her, egging her on and annoying her into fighting back as he always had. Suddenly she could hear his voice in her head.

Figure out your next move.

She nodded. Yes, she needed to get her bearings and deal with the immediate problem, which was getting away from the slimy monster who had her trapped. She closed her eyes and thought back to her last memories before waking up in the dark.

She’d been hunting, they all had. They had been hunting the nest for a couple of days, and tracked them to a dilapidated old house two miles out of town. She was standing guard at the west entrance while Sam was at the south, both of them watching for stragglers.

It had happened in seconds, the monster grabbing her from behind, sinking its teeth into her flesh and provoking a blood-curdling scream from her throat before the world went dark.

Now she was awake, and she wished she could go back to oblivion. But she couldn’t. So she focused on her surroundings. Loud, off-key music had begun to play from somewhere on the other side of the door. She could hear raucous laughter and loud voices too, as though a party had started. 

She heard screams and suddenly the thick, metallic scent of blood hit Y/N’s nose and she panicked again at the way her senses heightened and her body ached with hunger. She was sick with want, with need for the blood she could smell beyond the door. There was no longer any way for her to hide from the truth. The man who held her was no man. He was a vampire, and now she was too.

Suddenly the barn door opened and the vamp came through again, dragging a half conscious woman behind him. The woman roused slightly when she was tossed to the ground, but she seemed incredibly weak, barely able to sit up. 

The vamp moved to the pulley and lowered Y/N’s feet back onto the ground. Y/N’s focus sharpened and a plan came to mind. She drew on Dean’s invisible strength and his always impressive calm in the face of stark odds.

The vamp walked up to Y/N and gave her a stern look. “Now, pretty thing, if I take you down, you have to promise to sit nicely and eat your dinner like a good girl.”

Y/N nodded and tried to sound starving, which wasn’t difficult.. “Yes, yes, I promise. Please, I’m just so hungry.”

The vamp chuckled and reached up to pull her down from the hook. “Yeah, I remember those days. I’m gonna make you all better.” He smiled at her and she could smell the blood on his breath.

He sat Y/N on a bale of hay and yanked the woman back up off the ground. He bit into her neck, where the skin was already covered in bite marks, opening her up again so that blood rushed down the front of her filthy blue shirt. 

The scent hit Y/N's nostrils again and suddenly she felt fangs descend behind her closed lips. She let out a horrified yelp that almost drowned out the woman's faint cries of distress. She raised a hand to her mouth and cut her finger on one of her own razor sharp teeth as she prodded at it. 

The vampire thrust the woman forward and she landed in Y/N's lap. “Eat up, sweetness.” The monster said with another chuckle. 

The woman was shaking and weak, her lips blue and nearly lifeless. Y/N felt as though her entire body was cracked and parched like a desert, and the alluring scent of the woman's blood felt like an oasis. But her big brown eyes begged for mercy from Y/N even though her voice had been silenced by weakness, and Y/N pushed her roughly off her lap and jumped to her feet. The vamp seemed startled by the move and his momentary confusion was her only saving grace. 

She kicked him as hard as she could in the nuts. His cry of pain was thankfully lost in the pounding music and the screams of the people being feasted on, just on the other side of the wall.

He fell to his knees and she kicked him hard again, in the face, knocking him over to sprawl on the barn floor. With her wrists still tied, she grabbed the long, pointed spade that hung on the wall three feet away, and jammed it into his throat. He gurgled and tried to rip the tool from her hand, but she wrenched it away from him and kicked him half a dozen more times while he writhed and bled on the ground. Finally she got a good angle and stuck him with the spade again, leaving his head hanging on by a few tendons and a bit of muscle tissue. 

She smashed the spade into his neck one final time and his head rolled towards her rather pathetically.

She stood staring at it for a few moments, as she panted and her head swam.

Finally she dropped the spade and ran to the woman lying a few feet away. The smell of her blood overwhelmed Y/N again and she immediately jumped back, desperate to control herself. 

But the blank, empty look on the woman's face told Y/N she was dead anyway; so she couldn't help or hurt her now. Y/N knew that in her present state there was nothing she could do for the people being killed on the other side of the wall either. So she pulled her wrists free of the rope and ran.

She tore out of the back of the barn, and ran as fast and as far as she could. She had no idea where she could run to, she was simply trying to outrun the monster she was now.

***

Fear sat heavy and thick in Dean's heart as he followed the obvious trail Y/N had left behind her. At least, he thought it was her, it had to be her.

Please, God let it be her, Dean begged.

The world had gone dark ever since he'd heard Y/N's scream of terror and pain outside that rundown shack. He’d run to where she was stationed, but she was already gone. A red pickup truck sped away down the dirt road. But Dean had managed to secure most of the license plate number.

With it, they managed to track the vamps to their new hideout, the barn. This time they took out the whole nest. While the others were questioning the last two vamps about Y/N's whereabouts, Dean had started looking around the space and found the dead woman and the decapitated vamp. The dead monster made hope surge in Dean, and he'd called to the others. They'd split up to search for her and Dean went North simply by instinct at first, because some sixth sense was drawing him in that direction.

But after a couple hundred yards, the trail began to become more obvious. Someone had barrelled through the thick brush surrounding the old barn, and they were no longer attempting to hide their steps. 

Almost a mile away from the barn, Dean stopped short. Just ahead of him he could hear what sounded like moans, like someone in pain.

No, not someone, Dean thought, terror licking through him. 

Y/N.

He moved forward in a rush and burst through the brush into a small clearing. His heart leapt with joy and relief as he saw Y/N sitting on a turned over log barely twenty-five feet away. 

She was alive.

But as he ran towards her she jumped up and tripped over the log as she scrambled away from him.

“Y/N!” Dean called to her, but she screamed back at him.

“No, stay away from me.”

Dean frowned at her but kept walking forward. “Sweetheart, what are y-”

Y/N folded her arms against her middle and groaned again, just as sharp fangs descended. Her beautiful features twisted in a snarl as she stumbled backwards again.

Dean stopped dead, staring, unbelieving, shaking his head in denial. He felt frozen to the ground as he looked at the truth standing right in front of him. He felt his world fall away as he stared at the monster who used to be Y/N - the girl he'd known his whole life, his best friend, his rival, his perfect other half. 

And now she was lost to him. A monster.

She fell to her knees and shook her head, holding her hand out towards him, warding him off, warning him to stay back. In the bright light of the full moon and the distant glow of city lights, Dean watched her fangs retreat and tears roll down her cheeks. He approached her cautiously, somehow unable to stay back. 

She looked up at him and her beautiful eyes were stained, the whites of them pooled with blood. 

“Dean.” she croaked as she continued to shake her head at him. “Please stay away from me.” She begged. 

She nodded towards the machete that was strapped to his thigh. “Please? Just end me before I hurt someone.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I don't want to…” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I don't wanna hurt you, or anyone.” 

Her face spasmed with pain. “But I can't…I know I can't control this for much longer. Please, help me. I don't want to kill someone.” 

Her voice was cracked and broken and suddenly Dean saw that little girl again, the one who begged him not to kill the frog, begged him to help her save it. Because she couldn't stand the thought of hurting something helpless.

That little girl could never be a monster, and he knew she still had to be in there somewhere.

He found himself shaking his head. “No, Y/N, I won’t…” He couldn't even say the words. He cleared his throat “I'm gonna save you.”

Y/N looked at him like he was insane. “Save me? There's no way to save me. There's no fixing this. I'm a monster, Dean! I can feel the bloodlust in my head, it makes everything foggy. I can hear your heart pumping and I want -” She cut herself off and closed her eyes. “Please.” She whispered again, begging him to end her life.

But instead he got down on his knees in front of her and took a deep breath. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared as he drew closer to her. 

“You won't hurt me, Y/N.” 

“Dean!” Y/N shouted. But he shook his head.

“No, I'm right about this.” He declared, using his old playground trick of challenging her to get a rise out of her and force her into what he wanted. It seemed to work at least a little because some of the despair in her bloodshot eyes turned to annoyance.

He shook his head. “I refuse to believe there isn't a cure out there somewhere, or at least, someway to help you live with it.”

Y/N laughed humorlessly, exasperated. “Like a twelve step program for vampires? ‘God grant me the serenity not to rip open a vein.’?”

Dean grinned at her gallows humor. “Yeah, something like that.”

He looked over his shoulder and when he looked back his face was serious. “But look, I don't know how my Dad, or maybe even your Dad are gonna feel about this idea. I mean, they're so hardcore about hunting, about what’s a monster and what’s human. I don't know if I could convince them what I say is true, that I can save you.”

Y/N frowned at him and fear clouded her expression again. “You absolutely don't know it’s true! You are risking your life every second you're near me.”

Dean raised his hand slowly to her cheek and watched her swallow convulsively. “You're worth the risk, sweetheart.”

Tears filled Y/N's eyes again at the familiar endearment. She brushed away the tears and then took his hand from her cheek and held it. 

“Does this mean you forgive me?” She asked, looking up at him with a wavering smile. 

Dean grinned at her. “I don't know, does this mean you're apologizing?”

Y/N gave a watery laugh. “Yes.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both struck with just how ridiculous their fight seemed in view of their current situation. 

“Well, don’t worry, you're forgiven completely.” Dean promised. “But back to my earlier point. I think we should take off for a while. We can let our dads and Sam know we're okay, but we'll just keep moving till we find an answer.”

Y/N nodded. “But, Dean. I feel so weak already. I don't know how long I'll be able to -” 

Dean shook his head. “We'll be fine.” He said, his voice unrelenting.

“Dean -” Y/N tried again, but Dean stood up and pulled her up with him.

“No, Y/N.” He stared into her eyes, his words pushing through the pounding in her skull and the throbbing in her veins for the first time since she'd awoken as a monster.

“I will not walk away from you, I will save you.” His jaw flexed. “Or die trying.”

Y/N felt her heart constrict because she knew him well enough to know he meant every word.

***

Two weeks later

Dean listened to Y/N’s rattling breaths and felt the chasm of darkness grow deeper inside him. She was laying on the floor of the old abandoned house they were squatting in, and her skin was so pallid and pale that she matched the gray dust around her.

She'd been getting weaker and weaker the longer she went without feeding. They’d hoped that animal blood might do the trick. But they'd tried pigeon blood and rat blood - Dean had even found and shot a coyote that had been knocking over trash cans down the road, hoping that bigger game might make a difference - but none of it worked. 

Y/N threw the blood up as fast as she choked it down. She cried about the animals that had died. “We're killing them for nothing.” She wheezed. “It's not working.” Her voice was scratchy, as though she hadn't had any liquid for days. 

They'd been on their own for nearly two weeks, and every day Y/N faded a little further. 

Over the course of the two weeks there had been a few close calls between them, when Y/N's hunger threatened to overtake all her other senses. But Dean had managed to subdue her long enough, until she came back to herself. When her conscience returned, she would always shake with fear at what she'd almost done and beg him to leave her there and run. She said it without hope because she knew he never would. 

But now, she was no threat to him at all. Dean looked down at her frail body, cheeks sunken, dark black circles bruising the skin below her eyes, and he knew he was losing her. 

He knew what he had to do. 

He sat beside her on the floor, his big hand holding her skinny fingers which he squeezed gently. 

“Y/N.” He called softly. “Y/N wake up.” 

Her eyelids lifted with what looked like a herculean effort. Her eyes were unfocused until Dean moved closer and looked down at her, his face hovering above her. Then she smiled at him as she dragged in more rattling breaths.

She opened her mouth to speak, but only garbled air came out. Dean shook his head and put a finger to her lips. “No, sweetheart, don't talk, just listen.” 

He ran a thick finger down the sunken hollow of her cheek. “If you don't feed, you're not gonna make it. Now, when I spoke to Sam last time, he said they had a lead on something that might be something. But that doesn't sound like a lot, and they can help you if you're…”

He shook the word out of his mind. “We just have to keep you well until they figure it out. So…”

He trailed off and then shrugged out of his jacket. He opened the buttons on his flannel, exposing a wide swath of his warm skin. 

“So feed.” He told her.

He watched her bloody, cloudy eyes widen and darken. She shook her head feebly, her breathing becoming loud and wheezing as she tried to sit up and back away from him.

But Dean caught hold of her easily and shifted her into his lap. He brushed her limp hair back off her forehead.

“Y/N, please listen to me. We just need something to keep you going. Please.” He said, his voice and expression begging her. “I trust you. Feed.”

He kissed her lips gently, and then leaned over her, kissing her neck and leaving his exposed and vulnerable. 

“Dean.” Y/N managed to put some sound into her voice and Dean pulled back to look at her. 

She sucked in a long labored breath. “You…promised.” She shook her head again. “Promised to…” 

She had to stop talking for a few moments, her eyes falling closed before she tried again.

“Promised to save me.”

Dean's face was desperate. “What do you think I'm doing?”

Y/N's head moved minutely from side to side. “Not.” She croaked. “Saving. Save me from…monster. No monster.”

Dean understood her and he felt tears burn his eyes. She wanted him to save her from becoming a monster. It was true that neither of them knew what would happen if she fed. Would she just get stronger, or would it sever her hold on her humanity?

There was no way of knowing, and she was begging him to save her from the possibility of a bad outcome. Dean wanted to yell at her, scream and fight with her over this as they always did when they disagreed. But he knew she had no fight left. 

So he just nodded at her and took solace in the peace that drifted over her exhausted face. He shifted so that she was laying with her head in his lap and traced his finger over the delicate bones in her face and collarbone. He spoke barely above a whisper.

“Okay, sweetheart. Sleep now.”

***

Twenty-two hours later

Dean jumped as someone pounded on the door. It was the most he'd moved in hours. He rose slowly from the ground as the pounding came again accompanied by Sam's voice.

“Dean! Y/N! It's me, open the door!”

Dean reached the door and slid the bolt free, letting Sam through. His little brother rushed past him. “Why haven't you been answering your phone?” Sam asked, and then barreled forward without waiting for an answer.

“We found it, we found a cure. Dad remembered hearing some obscure piece of lore saying you could cure a werewolf with the blood of the wolf that bit them and he figured maybe vamps had something similar. So after you guys took off that night, he went back to the barn and took the fang’s blood just in case. The one Y/N killed - figured it was our best bet.” He clarified.

Sam's excitement was blinding him to Dean's stillness and he rushed on. “So, we went down to New Orleans. You know they had a bit of a vampire problem in the French Quarter about a century ago, so we thought maybe they'd have-”

Suddenly Sam stopped talking, the momentum that brought him there finally deflating under the weight of the darkness in the air.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Dean? Where's Y/N?”

Dean's jaw clenched and he gestured to the other room. “Too late.”

Sam's expression sank, the last bit of his youthful excitement crumbling at the words. He walked in the direction Dean pointed, freezing in the doorway when he saw Y/N's frail body laying on a dusty table.

“Didn't wanna leave her lying on the ground.” Dean said, his voice deep and thick with unshed tears. 

Sam wasn't as practiced at hiding his emotions, and tears fell down his cheeks as he watched Y/N's still, lifeless body and thought of the way her father had fallen further and further into a bottle as the days passed, hope slipping further from their grasp. 

John had sent Sam on ahead to Dean and Y/N so that he could go back and let Darren know that there was finally hope for his daughter. Now, they were going to have to crush that last spark of hope.

He was exceedingly glad he wouldn't have to be the one to do it.

He reached Y/N and grimaced at the emaciated creature that only vaguely reminded him of the girl who'd been his big sister for all intents and purposes.

When Dean came to stand beside him, Sam shook his head. “How, how did she die?” 

Dean looked at him angrily for a moment before he clipped out an answer. “Painfully.”

Silence reigned for a moment until Sam brushed away his tears and tilted his head. “But…” He didn't finish his thought, slightly intimidated by his much bigger brother's anger and frustration with his questions.

But his mind was working and he couldn't stop himself.

“But I mean, that's sort of the thing, isn't it?”

Dean scowled at him and Sam shrugged. “I just…I mean, vampires don't die. They can't.”

“Unless they're starving.” Dean growled out but Sam shook his head. 

“No, that's my point. I've done SO much research on vampires over the last couple weeks, and some of it is a bit conflicting, but the one thing that every one of them agreed on was that the ONLY way to kill a vampire for good, for real, was to chop off their head.”

Dean was scowling at him. “What are you saying?” His voice was gruff, but Sam saw a spark of hope in his eye, and he prayed he wasn't giving his brother false hope. 

“I'm saying we found a couple hoodoo priestesses that gave up their cure for vampirism. I think we should make it and give it to Y/N.”

Dean's nostrils flared as he fought down his own burgeoning hope. “You really think some hoodoo cure is gonna bring her back from the dead?”

Sam shook his head and took off his backpack. He got down on his haunches and began pulling items out for the spell.

“But she's not dead.” He said adamantly and then amended his words cautiously. “At least. I don't think she is, cause her head is still on her shoulders. So, again, how did she die? Of starvation you said?”

Dean nodded down at Sam. “Yeah, she…she tried to drink animal blood but it wouldn't stay down.”

Sam shot him a worried look. “But she didn't drink any human blood, did she? Like even a drop?”

Dean shook his head. “No, that's why she died. I tried to get her to drink from me, but she wouldn't.”

Sam sighed with relief. “Thank God she's smarter than you are.”

Dean scowled at him, but Sam ignored it. “The spell only works on newbie vamps, and only if they haven't ingested any human blood.”

As he finished up mixing the ingredients for the cure, he explained what he was thinking. “So, if vamps can't die of starvation, then…I think she's desiccated. I read about it in only one account. This one big bad vamp in New Orleans, they couldn't stop him, so they trapped him and when he couldn't get any food, he desiccated and basically fell into a vampire coma.”

He stood up with a jar in his hands that contained a foul smelling liquid. He handed it to Dean and reached into his backpack to pull out a tin that held a syringe full of blood. 

He pushed the plunger and emptied it into the drink.

“So I think,” he continued, “that when Y/N couldn't get blood she desiccated. But see if we give her the cure she won't be a vampire anymore. So the lack of human blood in her system shouldn't matter.”

Dean frowned. “But what if, because she wasn't fully a vampire, what if she didn't just wither into a hundred year slumber? What if she really is.. just…”

Sam but his lip. “Well, we won’t know till we try to give her the cure and see.” He said with a shrug in his voice.

Dean nodded and accepted his little brother's reasoning.

He moved towards Y/N and said a prayer to a god he didn't believe in that this would work. He’d been denying the alternative for nearly a day, desperate to believe it wasn’t true. This was their chance to make it not true.

Sam lifted Y/N's shoulders so that she was sitting up, and opened her slack jaw while Dean poured the concoction down her throat. Some of it spilled out, but most of it sank slowly down her esophagus.

When the jar was empty, they laid Y/N down and held their breath.

Dean unclenched his jaw long enough to ask, “Those witches give you any idea how long -”

His words were cut off as Y/N's eyes popped open and she gasped for air like a fish on dry land just before she turned her head and began vomiting black liquid. 

Dean felt a horrible mixture of elation and terror as Y/N continued to spew up black bile.

Finally she dry-heaved a few times more and then fell forward. She would have fallen to the ground if not for Dean, who swept her off the table and into his arms. 

He held her close, hardly daring to breathe for fear that he'd break the bubble of surrealty that he found himself in. Could this nightmare really be over? Did he have Y/N back in his arms for good. 

The pessimist in him was shouting warnings at him not to risk it, but he wasn't listening very well. Hope bubbled up in him as he watched her breathing even out 

Finally, her eyes fluttered beneath her closed lids for a moment before they opened slowly. 

“Dean?” She asked groggily. “What's…?” Her voice faded as she looked around, clearly confused.

Dean set her back on the table so that he could push the hair back from her face. His voice was hesitant. “Y/N? Are you…okay?”

She turned her head and saw Sam looking at her expectantly as well. Her brow stayed crinkled for a moment more until understanding began to dawn on her face. Tears filled her eyes, and even though they were still slightly bloodshot, Dean could practically see the color returning to her cheeks, her skin losing its thin, papery look. 

He began to feel the ache in his chest ease as he tucked Y/N's hair behind her ear. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

Her smile spread across her face and her voice was filled with the same relief and joy Dean could feel seeping through him as she answered. 

“I feel like me.”

***

The next few days were a bit rough for Y/N as the cure continued to work through her system, but they were also some of the happiest in her life. 

She’d returned to their motel and to her father’s waiting, grateful arms. The group of them celebrated her rescue and return, and the incredible tool they now had to help save vamp victims if they could get to them in time. 

For the first day or so, her father didn’t let her go very far out of his sight. But eventually, he eased off, and allowed that she was an adult and had a right to some space and privacy. So finally, four days after waking from her vampiric coma, she and Dean were able to sneak out alone. Their fathers were going to meet with another hunter about a shifter one state over, and Sam was quite glad to get the lovebirds away from him for an evening. Their pining, long looks, and frequent touching was driving him crazy.

Dean and Y/N hopped into the Impala and drove and sang together with the radio for hours. They talked and talked about absolutely nothing important, old favorite movies, and people they used to know from their hundred different hometowns. It was light and easy, and beautiful after weeks of pain, heartache and fear. 

Hours later they once again found themselves parked (on the side of an old abandoned back road this time) and cuddled up beside each other in the back seat.

Rain had begun to fall, soft but steady, beating a soothing pattern on the roof. The radio still played low from the front, and Y/N gasped when she realized that Dean had slipped in the mixed tape she’d made for their anniversary more than a month earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“You kept this.” She said, smiling up at him. “I thought you hated these songs.”

Dean shrugged. “I hate them less when I’ve got you tucked up against me like this.”

Y/N reached up to pull his lips down to her. She kissed him softly and then pulled away. She lowered her gaze. “Dean, I really do owe you an apology for how I acted before.”

Dean was shaking his head, but she put a finger to his lips. “Please let me finish.” He fell silent and she continued. 

“I get a little crazy when it comes to you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed - I hide it very well.” She said with mock seriousness. 

Dean nodded along. “Of course.” 

Y/N smiled and looked down at her hands twisted in her lap. “It’s just…all my life it’s been…chaos. Different towns, different schools, different kids, different teachers, different rules, different cliques, different everything. Over and over, nothing but new…new and scary.”

Dean nodded again, knowing it was true. 

Y/N smiled sheepishly. “But through all of it, through everything new, everything different, everything scary, there was always you. You, there to piss me off and rile me up, you to challenge and push me, to defend me, to break a nose or take the fall for me. In my whole life the only constant is you. It took me a long time to realize it, but Dean,” she looked deep into his eyes, “you are everything to me.”

Tears filled her eyes. “And the truth is you’ve saved me over and over, my whole life. Yeah okay, I mean now you’ve actually offered up your very life for me, but you’ve been saving me every day, all our lives.”

Dean’s eyes were moist as she continued. “So, the thought of losing you to someone else, of losing all you are to me…” She shook her head. “It’s terrifying.” 

Dean grasped her cheeks and turned her face up so he could kiss her, not softly, not gently. His kiss was all consuming, it was hard and possessive. He pulled away from her and she could barely catch her breath.

His voice was raspy as he spoke against her lips. “You’re an idiot.”

She spluttered a bit and scowled at him, but he just smiled. 

“Sweetheart, you say it took you a long time to realize all of that? Okay. But I’ve known since first grade. I’ve known since the second our dads met up at that park to talk about a Rugaru and I saw you on the swingset. You were wearing a rainbow t-shirt and purple overalls, and your hair swirled around you while you were swinging. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Y/N laughed happy tears. “You remember what I was wearing?”

Dean brushed them away. “I think of you every time I see a rainbow.”

Y/N could barely believe what she was hearing. Dean shook his head as though it had been so obvious. “Sweetheart, I’ve loved you every day of our lives together. Even when I didn’t like you, I loved you.”

Y/N hiccupped a sob and threw her arms around Dean’s neck. He put his hand on her back and pulled her onto his lap. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and spoke against her skin. 

“So as long as you want me here, I’m here. As long as I can be yours, you’ve got me.”

She pulled back from him and sniffled. “So…you were lying then? You weren’t sleeping with a bunch of other girls all the time we were broken up?”

Dean shook his head. “Of course not.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “No one else is you, Y/N.”

She kissed him again, her tears mingling with their panting breath. She straddled his thighs and then lifted her t-shirt up over her head. Dean made a choked sound in the back of his throat. He pressed his hands to her waist and kneaded his fingers into her lower back.

“Y/N,” Dean began but she kissed him again.

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore Dean.” She said as she pulled away. “I know everything I need to know about your past.” She pushed her hands into his hair and tugged his head back slightly so his face was turned up towards her, his mouth open and reaching for her. 

She brushed her lips over his. “You’ve loved me your whole life.”

He grunted as he twisted their bodies so that she landed on the seat with a squeak, pinned beneath his weight. “I didn’t say my WHOLE life. There were like six years there where I didn’t even know you existed.” 

Y/N giggled. “You mean the six years you were alive before we met?”

Dean grinned. “Exactly. I was free as a bird then.”

He laid his hands against the leather on either side of her shoulders and pushed himself up. One knee was sunk into the seat between her legs and the other rested on the floor as he pulled his shirt up and off. 

She reached up and ran her fingers over his smooth, broad chest and down over his stomach. He watched her, a muscle squeezing tight in his jaw, before he took her hands and wrapped them around his neck so he could stretch out above her again. 

She looked into his bright green eyes, shining like emeralds and got lost in them. She picked up their conversation as though they’d never stopped talking, but her voice was breathy and heated. “And you’re gonna love me for the rest of your life, right?”

Dean nodded. “Every day.”

“K, good.” She said, her eyes welling up again. “Me too, by the way. I mean, just in case you were wondering - I love you too.”

Dean’s face lit up but he just nodded and shrugged one shoulder. “Of course I know, I’m smart like that.” He kissed her hard and quick. “But let’s not forget who said it first.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl @slamminmine

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 10

read part 9 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: slight violence, blood, murderous fantasies, and obsessive behavior

a/n: that awkward moment when you go to college and forget how to write fic. lol <3. here you go, im getting back into it so just a short chapter.

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

Dear Diary,

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK!

How the hell could I let this happen? What the fuck?

How does fighting with your best friend turn into triple homicide? How does getting a boyfriend make you an accomplice? A few weeks ago I was a girl with a crush, and now my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

I didn’t sleep last night. Ethan dragged me out of the house into his car. I was shaking the whole time. It didn’t feel real. We were speeding back to my house, swinging wildly around corners, and I remembered the way Mindy’s sliced throat bubbled with blood. I threw up all over myself and the passenger seat of Ethan’s car. That only scared me more. I thought he’d pull over and kill me right then, he seemed so manic, but he only glanced over and laughed. Fucking laughed. 

That wasn’t even the sickest thing, though. He finally got to my house and I went to get out of the car, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back so hard I thought he’d dislocate it. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was so terrifying I got the message: don’t say shit. 

My parents barely noticed when I came home. They didn’t even realize I’d been out. Typical. My boyfriend killed the only people who cared if I lived or died. Except him, of course. 

The sick thing is that I can’t forget that sweet, shy boy from the cafeteria. Whenever I see him it’s like I shut down. Like a deer in headlights. I’ve got no control over myself when I’m with Ethan. He brought me to his place, again. Just showed up in his car. I thought it was better to do what he wanted.

Thank god no school tomorrow.

Y/N

As soon as I close my diary, I feel a familiar presence behind my shoulders. I tense as he wraps his arms around my neck. 

“Relax, Y/N,” Ethan says. “It’s like you saw a ghost.”

I’m still scared shitless by him, but his comment makes me so mad that I push him off and rise from the living-room couch. “What the fuck, Ethan?”

His mouth widens into a toothy grin. “A little dark humor, sorry. Just trying to lighten your mood.”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response. He rolls his eyes and flops onto the couch. “So, who’s next? Should we kill Anika? Could be another suicide thing– not much to live for after your girlfriend and her brother and his kinda-girlfriend bite it. Or maybe Sam? She’s the reason you were even at Tara’s place that morning, after all.”

My blood runs cold. I open my mouth to say something, but the door slams. “Jesus, kids, you’re sure making a lot of fucking noise.” 

Ethan’s dad waltzes in, smiling ear to ear. His shirt is partially unbuttoned and his hair and tie are askew. Sergeant Bailey smells like cigars, and I wrinkle my nose before I can stop myself. 

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Celebrating, dad?”

The sarge pretends not to notice Ethan’s tone. “As a matter of fact, yes. We investigated and intercepted a pretty high-level bomb threat today. The captain took us out to celebrate. Still an asshole, though. I should be doing his job.”

“Bomb threat?”

“Yeah. A gnarly one, too. Some office building in the east of town. They put a Norwegian in the boiler room and a bunch of thermals upstairs that were gonna be set off after. Luckily the bomb squad got there before the clock reached zero. The captain…”

He keeps chattering about the details of his day and his “fucking idiot” of a boss, but it all fades out when Ethan gets that look in his eye again. I know this one: it’s the same look from the funeral. His eyes are stony. He’s forming a plan. 

I can’t be in this house any more. I feel myself run out the door, and I almost make it to the street before a tight grip fastens itself around my waist. I kick and yell but to no avail. Ethan tightens his grip around me and kisses me, muffling my screams. I’m so claustrophobic, I can hardly breathe.

As he deepens this kiss, I do the only thing I can think of: I bite his lip, hard. He yelps and lets me go, and we both fall back onto the grass. He brings his hand down from his mouth, and I can see a trickle of blood on his fingers. “Cute, Y/N. Very fucking cute.”

“Leave me alone. We’re done. Whatever this thing is, it’s over.”

He grins, and there’s blood in his teeth. “You can’t bring them back. You’ve got to know that.”

I feel hot tears welling up. “I’m not trying to bring back anything, you psycho, except maybe myself.”

His face hardens. “I love you, Y/N. I love you a whole fucking lot. I’ve made that pretty clear. And you know what I can do. To anyone. For you. To you. So you’ll be back.”

His threat makes my head spin. I scramble back towards the road. For a second, I think he’s going to follow me, but he makes no move to get up.

When I hit cement, I turn on my heels and run. The sting of the wind burns my tear-tracked cheeks, but I don’t stop or slow until I’m safely upstairs in my bedroom with the door locked. 

Dear Diary,

Am I going to homecoming, or hell?

taglist: @miawastakens dm or reply to be added!

[short-black-diamond]

ANGST PURE FLAVORED ANGST! tis is what i crave! tis is what i want! tis is what i need! tis is what i ask!

Wednesday x Reader

Absolute neglect after The Hyde situation, Wednesday is stuck to Enid like a bear to honey, ignoring your attempts to hang out with her, ignoring ur dates, ignoring you. You finally had enough and its time to let go of your hopes and dreams with her, your future with her. You know you deserve better, you deserved better than to be just a second. You willingly cut that line that connects the two of you together and go on with your life, to be finally happy.

You control the plot author, the dialogues , the way you want them to break up, the levels of angst, i leave it up to you to create a heart breaking, heart stomping, teae inducing of a masterpiece! Remember to always have fun writing or the flavor of the story will fall flat. Goodluck!

Okayyyy, alright! Thank you for the request!

I did it slightly different from your request, with Wednesday being out of character, and, like with a happy ending. and I'm not that good with angst but I'll try! so uh, yeah, eheh...

Wednesday x reader angst everyone!!!

Warnings: Angst obvi, very ooc and toxic Wednesday

Btw everyone can request something, don't be shyyyy

---

"Why can't you believe me?", your voice echoed in the big corridor, fast steps following even faster ones. Nobody dared to come out of their dorms, scared to get a taste of your or Wednesday's anger.

It should actually be the other way round; with Wednesday chasing you and not you chasing her. But you needed to know.

"How come that everytime you tell me something, it happens in a short amount of time. How come that you always know what happens next?", the girl said while her back was to you and she was skidding to a stop when she sharply turned around and faced you.

She was the right one to speak when she was the one with the visions...but you didn't say that outloud, at first being grateful that she even turned around in the first place.

Even though you would've liked for her to listen to you, understand your reasons, why you knew all this, you knew that it still wouldn't end well. Because Wednesday never understood you. She may be the weird girl everybody knows, but to her, you were the weird one.

As you were looking at her perfectly symmetrical face and dared to admire her beauty, you also frowned. "You are my girlfriend, Wednesday. I care about you. I have my reasons, Wednesday. You have yours too. You are not comfortable talking about what happens in your visions, I am not comfortable talking about why I know all this. Let's not overstep each others boundaries here-"

"You overstepped the boundaries when you followed me to the cafe and pulled me away from Tyler-" "I had a good reason to do that! You cheated on me! You were so caught up in kissing him, not noticing how his eyes were fucking open the entire time! He was using you, Wednesday! And we two, we were fucking together!", you screamed now, not noticing that your argument had gotten louder.

Wednesday didn't tell you that she had a vision mid-kiss.

As you were panting, and so was she, she took in your state. Your hair was a mess, your eyes looked like they have been producing a concerning amount of tears, your face was pretty pale and your choise of clothes wasn't the best either. Sure, she felt really bad for cheating on you, but maybe she liked 'normal' people more than she'd like to admit. She also wished that she could apologize, but the damage was done and her throat had a big stone in it. It was weird, really, how she couldn't say anything. Not even a simple sorry. And she somehow felt her eyes burn. And she didn't like the feeling that was bubbling up inside her.

Finally realizing that this argument lead to nowhere with the girl in front of you, tears started forming in your eyes. You knew that you shouldn't apologize, but you always were sorry for doing something wrong, even when you never did anything wrong. And even though you were the one who got cheated on, you still felt like apologizing. "I'm sorry, Wednesday. I really care about you, a-and I was scared that something bad would happen-"

"Leave me alone. It's over between us.", was all the girl said before turning around again and rounding the corner to her dorm. you were left standing there, dumbfounded. She didn't aknowledge that you literally risked your fine ass to save her, leaving her with minor wounds and you with major ones. She fucking cheated on you. She ignored you for the rest of the day and you couldn't help but get depressed, but also angry and displeased.

The next time you saw her, she was literally touching shoulders with Enid, making the rainbow girl gleam in delight. W-were they together now? you felt like puking. Enid and Wednesday didn't look good together, and other people expressed their disagreement by looking at the weird pair with a 'wtf' expression. At least you weren't the only one who didn't like what you saw.

...

It has been a few days after your break up with her. Being away from Wednesday lead you to think about yourself while you meditated. you had a flower-like power, with plants errupting from any surface you touched with your bare hands, feet, or naked body. That's why you always covered as much of your body as possible, and even though it didn't work on humans/monsters, it did work on any other surface and you had to wear gloves and socks all the time. But hey, at least you'd always be warm!

you had your own dorm because apparently, nearly everyone had an allergy against at least one plant in your room. closing the door, you stripped off your clothes and lay down onto the moos and grass ground, loving your ecosystem. The offsprings engulfed your limbs with open...roots? Anyway, as you closed your eyes, your mind wandered to her.

Wednesday, with her hair open, swaying beautifully in the wind.

Wednesday, who let you read her works.

Wednesday, who always bought you chocolate milk. (-Sorry I had to indulge myself there)

Wednesday, who helps you with the homework, patting your head with a satisfied smile on her face.

Wednesday, with a beautiful dress in your room.

Wednesday, who smiles at you before she is about to-

"NO!", you yelled, the flowers around you rotting. They all turned a darker, shadier shade from their original colour, and the roots and becoming thinner and thinner.

.....

....

...

..

.

...See, your feelings were connected to the living creatures of your little world. And when you felt bad, they feel bad. In other words, the flowers in your room mirrored your feelings and mood. Instantly, you apologized and calmed your breathing.

As you steadied your mind, the flowers blossomed again and you sighed. taking care of your feelings was a shit ton of work, especially when somebody- in this case something- else got hurt in the process. You stroked the green underneath you and murmured sweet nothings to your loves, smiling when they began to glow.

"I'm sorry, it's just- Wednesday...seems to like Enid even more than ...me. And here I thought I had a chance. I mean, we were together...", you chuckled dryly, laying yourself down once again.

Then, you thought about Wednesday, who'd never tell you where she went.

Wednesday, who never asked how you were, thinking that a simple pat on the shoulder or head would bring enough comfort.

Wednesday, who'd rather go out with Enid than you, because Enid was socially accepted and you...not so much.

Wednesday, who always pushed you away when you were about to hug her, or kiss her, or generally, just touch her.

Wednesday, who'd get angry when you brought earth and dirt into her side of the dorm she shared with the incomplete werewolf.

Wednesday, who once told you that your powers were useless, but your flowers were the exact reason you could find and save her.

Wednesday, who once yelled at you for taking Thing out for a walk, but Thing only wanted to spend time with you.

Wednesday, who you now seemed to realize, wasn't as hot and romantic as you thought.

Yes, the more you thought about it, the more you grew to hate that girl. But you somehow also thought more about Enid.

Actually, Enid was pretty nice. She was very polite to you, loved it when you brought in dirt, and enjoyed it when you two went out to dig in dirt and bury some bones. It was her tendency as a dog hybrid to do that and your interest to know how long it would take the earth to absorb the contents of the bone, and you two actually became close friends.

the flowers were pulsating, pulling you out of your nap and when you opened your eyes, you found a blushing Enid next to you.

"H-hey-"

"AAAAH!- WHAT THE FUCK-GET OUTTA HERE I'M NAKEDDDDD!!!!"

Yeah, that...was not so nice. Anyway, after you've quickly changed into some comfortable clothes (jeans and a tight shirt to show your abs/tits wink wonk), you opened the door, surprised that she took off her shoes and socks. you once told her that you didn't like it when people stepped on your ground with their dirty shoes, so she took your plea to heart. As she stepped in, she relished the fact that she didn't develop any allergies. and your room really was a sight. also, her animal instincts were in pure bliss.

your room smelt nice, was nice, calm and beautiful. She noticed a few butterflies here and there, worms on the ground, bees collecting nectar and much more. "Your room is so beautiful...", she whispered, scared that if she talked any louder, it would hurt the creatures in your room. you giggled and aknowledged the fact that she was talking quietly. you liked that about her. she respected you and what you loved or did.

"Thanks. Um, may I know why exactly you're here?", you asked, raising a hand for Enid to sit on a moos covered rock which errupted from the grass. It was more comfortable than any chair she's sat on. "Well, I thought that maybe...you'd like to go out sometime?", she asked, a hopefull glimmer in her eyes.

You gave her a sad smile, but the flowers all grew thorns, and Enid noticed. "Aren't you together with Wednesday now?", you asked. Was there some sort of disrespect from you at the goth girl she smelled?

Your question surprised the blonde and she waved her hand in a dismissing manner, frowning at you, her lips turned upwards. "No, we are not. I only like her as a friend. but...there is somebody else I like.", she said, standing up, coming closer to you and softly taking your hand in hers.

Oh.

"U-uhm, Enid-", you stuttered, blushing at the body contact, probably because of Wednesday. yeah, you were pretty touch starved.

"Can I hold your hand for a little longer?", she whispered, looking at you through her blonde eyelashes. Was she doing the puppy-eye? Well, it did the fucking trick.

You looked to the side while nodding and she engulfed it in both her hands. She traced soft patterns on your skin, making you shiver. Her hands were so soft and delicate and you asked youself what she could like about you.

Wednesday never told you sweet words or touched you like a lover like Enid did.

Wednesday never gave you the feeling of being extraordinary throughout the entire time you were with her like you were with Enid in these few minutes.

Wednesday seemed to have accepted your proposal out of pity.

Enid suddenly let go of your hand. "So...what do you say?", she asks, still in your comfort zone. "Sure...!", you answered, craving her touch again. However, something else cought your attention.

"But...I thought-" "No more thinking! You tend to overthink, sweetie!"

your cheeks went warm at the blonde girl's words and she realized what she said too. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I hope it was not too much?" You only shook your head, smiling giddily at the petname you got, looking to the ground shyly.

"I...quite liked that.", you murmured, feeling bold and gently taking her hands in yours. "Would you...like to move into my dorm? You seem to be the only one to not have an allergy against my flowers."

Jeez, you felt like you were proposing to her, but at this age and these feelings, it might just be one.

As she felt your warm hands hold hers and your even warmer gaze on her face, she had a big smile etched on her face. "Yes!"

...

"Noooo, why?", Enid whined when she saw you scoop up ice with one of your french fries. You pouted at her.

"You eat pizza with pinapple pieces. let me do how I please.", you grumbled, enjoying the sweet and salty flavour.

You two were currently eating at Mcdonald's, a date, where you payed for the food and you were talking about the most random topics. It turned out that you two had a lot more in common than you thought.

"I can't believe that you still watch barbie and my little pony when you've had such a personality.", Enid remarked, grabbing your attantion from sticking more fries into your ice cream.

You looked up at her with childish wonder before beaming at her. "I only had that shitty personality when I was with her. But no more of that. I want to be...myself, you know?"

"I couldn't believe it when you let Wednesday bully you like that.", Enid suddenly exclaimed. your jaw was slack and you gulped. "Wh-what do you mean..?", you answered, frowning at her with an uneasy smile.

"She told you that you were useless, sweetie. it was you who saved her, you know? without you, Wednesday might've been dead already. And your powers are actually pretty good for the environment. And if more people had such a pure heart like yours, then the world would be a much better place."

your face scrunched up, a telltale sign that you were about to cry soon. Good thing that Enid was already done with her food, so she quickly grabbed your ice cream, the fries and your hand and went out.

The fresh air did you good after you two sat down on another rock, and you took deep, shaky breaths. Enid tried out one of the french fries which were stuck in your ice cream - sometimes you really behaved like a child - and she grew to love it.

When you turned to her after having calmed down, you couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Enid only looked at you with a confused expression, not feeling the ice on top of her upper lip. "Growing a beard I see?", you asked, touching her cheeks softly.

"Let me kiss it off of you.", you whispered softly and Enid nodded eagerly, much to your delight. you gently licked away the ice before giving her a sweet kiss-

"Enid.", Wednesday said, startling both you and the girl in your arms.

She gave Enid a death glare and you too, to which you frowned. The young Addams girl took a step forward, with you going on front of Enid protectively. "Just what the hell so you think you're doing, Enid?"

"I kissed her." "I saw. And I told her to leave you alone." "And why would she do that?"

"Because she doesn't deserve some useless nobody like you."

"You know that if it weren't for my plants, you would've been dead."

Wednesday stared at you, and you glared. "Leave us alone Wendesday. You don't even know what you want or what's best for you.", you boldly exclaimed, taking Enid's hand and leading her away from the goth girl. "I hope you'll live through a tragedy of a life, Wednesday Addams."

"Rich coming from somebody who's kissing my best friend.", the latina boldly said, provoking you with a smirk, thinking that she'd have the upper hand.

But you were tired of her bullshit. "Even richer coming from somebody,", you started while walking towards her, your eyes glowing and a slight earthquake making itself known, "who was cheating on her partner- which she couldn't even look after properly- with a fucking Hyde in human disguise!"

You grabbed her shoulders and your face was covered in plants, but you looked terrifying. Wednesday looked scared for the first time in her life and you lived for that with a wicked grin. "Stay out of my life if you know what's best for you, Wednesday. You're a toxic, lying, untrustworthy, unreliable, whorish, slutty piece of shit and if that doesn't go through your stubborn, shitty head then I have no idea what to tell you more except to tell you to fuck out of my life again!", then you let go of her. Your face twisted back to normal, you gently took your girlfriends hand and led her away from your ex.

---

How was that? I hope it was not too boring. I wanted to bring in some funny parts and I hope you guys laughed-please act like you did.

I've read this story again and I Don't think that I can write angst that good likt other authors, but I hope it was okay..

[jjsstars]

Guilty

Scott McCall Week 2024: day 5, good dreams, or bad

|| for @scottappreciation event

|| posted on my ao3 | word count: 1k+ | rated: teen & up

|| tags: scott/liam, scott & melissa, post canon, angst, guilt, insecurities, sick fic, mental health issues, hurt scott mccall

Sometimes Scott had a hard time sleeping, as most werewolves do, but for him it was always his thoughts keeping him awake rather than the heightened adrenaline levels. There was things he could mull over for hours on end: the memory of when he first got bit, dragging his friends into the world of the supernatural without knowing how dangerous it really was, Allison- anything to do with her kept Scott awake, what happened with Theo, but what the most recurring thing was when he gave Liam the bite.

If there was anything Scott’s mind could do it was think that memory into the ground. It doesn’t matter that everything turned out okay and Liam is safely in bed next to him, Scott feels overrun with guilt. He bit poor sweet, innocent, un-expecting, clueless, Liam. For all the problems and issues Liam had going on- Scott knows he never deserved to get bit. If he could’ve done anything else he would’ve, he’d go back in a heartbeat to try and find a solution where Liam walks away perfectly normal and thinks of Scott as the lacrosse captain and nothing else.

No True Alpha title to live up to, he’d never see Scott in his wolf form, never train with him so they could fight for their lives together, he’d never think of Scott McCall as anything important. He’d be seen as ordinary and never thought of twice, like he was before he got bit, back when it was just him and Stiles.

“Babe?” Liam’s gruff half-awake voice startles Scott as he finally peels his eyes away from the spot on the ceiling he’s been staring at for the past hour.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He’s barely moved in attempts to not wake Liam, more guilt coil’s in his gut as he realizes he failed.

“I would’ve woken up anyways, you know I never sleep a full eight hours.” A little hum leaves Scott as his response. There’s a sudden uncomfortableness to being laid in bed like this, it’s too hot in the sheets, his stomach is churning like he’s about to be sick, there’s sweat beading down his forehead and the back of his neck making his hair cold and wet, and he can’t even look Liam in the eye.

“Want some melatonin? I can grab it.” Anything to help Liam, anything to make it feel like he sort of deserves the boyfriend he has.

“No I’m okay, are you.. alright? You look kind of flushed.” The comforter balls in Scott’s hands as he nods silently. He feels nauseous and a little light headed, he wishes he could go sprinting through the woods just to have something that will distract his mind.

“I- I’m fine.” The last thing Scott wants is for Liam to start fussing over him or getting worried- Scott doesn’t feel like he deserves to get that side of Liam, not right now, not when he’s caused so much stress in Liam’s life and is always a step behind preventing the next bad guy they have to deal with.

“You’re a horrible liar, I can smell it on you.” Damn werewolf pheromones.

“Just a little hot, that’s all.” He can feel droplets of sweat running down his back and ribs, he’s probably soaked through his shirt if he looked down.

“Here throw the blanket off- Jesus Scott you’re drenched.” Liam shifts up onto his knees once he pulls the comforter away from Scott, eyes wide and worried staring at how his boyfriend has not only sweat through his shirt but his shorts too, they’re practically painted to his skin.

“I’m- I’m okay.” A hand cups Scott’s cheek in an instant, Liam’s thumb brushing back and forth against Scott’s cheekbone.

“Are you sick? You feel a little warm, should I get Melissa?” It’s hard to tell if this is actual sickness or just overwhelming guilt.

“… Yeah get my mom.” Maybe she’ll tell him he has a stomach bug or something curable, not this conscious that haunts his every waking moment.

“Okay, okay, it’s gonna be alright.” The underlying frantic tone in Liam’s voice makes Scott cringe as he watches Liam stumble out of bed to go across the hall to get Melissa.

The rest of the blanket gets kicked off of Scott’s legs as he curls onto his side and wraps his arms around his abdomen. It’s two am and if Scott could sedate himself, he would. Anything to stop thinking, to stop being uncomfortable in his own skin, to stop hating himself for Liam becoming a werewolf, to stop being filled with dread that something worse is right around the corner, that every person he loves is destined to meet the same fate Allison did and-

“Scott? Scotty, sweetheart look at me.” Melissa’s hand is in his hair with a gentle run of her fingers through the sweat soaked strands.

“What’s wrong honey? You gotta talk to me.” Something hot and wet slips down Scott’s face, it’s different than the sweat that’s been steadily collecting on his skin- it’s tears. He’s crying.

“I- I bit him mom, I ruined his life, I- I exposed him to so much danger and- and I can’t fix it. I can’t think of how to fix- fix it-.” A broken sob cuts Scott off and he’s quickly pulled into Melissa’s chest, she shifts to he sat on the bed so Scott can bury into her side easier.

“Oh baby, shhh, you don’t have to fix anything. There’s nothing to fix, you know Liam’s happy with his life, with you.” She assures in that tone that Scott knows better than to argue against.

“I don’t deserve him… he’s so good to me when I was the one that messed everything up for him.” More tears streak down Scott’s face that Melissa hushes away.

“That’s not how he sees it. Liam loves you and that includes the parts of you that you don’t particularly like, so this guilt? It’s not worth holding onto because Liam never saw the flaw that caused it the way you did.” He does his best to listen, to have faith that his mother wouldn’t lie to him, to stop breathing so heavy and try to calm down.

“You carry so much on your shoulders, you must relax and stop being so hard on yourself. It’s not healthy to stay in a mindset like this, you’ll burn out.” Melissa’s hand rubs up and Scott’s arm as he nods, it’s meek, his face still hidden against Melissa’s side like he’s a little kid again. He doesn’t want to accept that the logical side of his brain is agreeing with Melissa, it’s too hard to admit that he needs a break. Needs the support he’s supposed to be giving his pack as the lead. That he can’t figure this out on his own.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” What will happen if Scott stops doing all the things he normally does? The pack would be in disarray if Scott didn’t keep them on track and monitor what they do in hopes they all stay communing and don’t risk anyone being left out or forgotten.

“I’m sure we can keep the pack together in one piece without you doing everything, we can have a meeting about it soon but right now I need to take your temperature ‘cause I’m pretty sure you got a fever.” Shit— he wasn’t being serious about wishing to be sick, he’s not going to be able to do any of his priorities if he’s sick.

“I’ll be right back, but you have to talk to Liam while I’m gone.” Scott groans half-heartedly, he was starting to miss Liam even if it’s only been an hour at most.

-

“Are you okay? I could hear you crying.” There’s a bottle of water held out for Scott when Liam walks in, no question on if Scott is actually thirsty but instead a stern furrow in his brow that Scott finds absolutely adorable.

“Just got too in my head.” An understanding nod gets sent Scott’s way, it’s just as small as the nod Scott gave Melissa earlier. It’s been weeks of Scott trying to keep face and not let anyone realize how bad his mental health is, but he knows Liam caught on almost immediately once it got this bad. Between the lack of solid sleep Scott’s been getting and how overly stressed he is when he’s awake, it’d be hard to think he has a stellar mental state, and besides, Liam always knows.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Not in the slightest, he pushes words out anyway.

“I still feel guilty about you getting bit, about pulling you into this life, about not protecting you more-.” Fresh tears roll down Scott’s cheek and his hands fidget on his lap when he pulls his legs underneath himself.

“Scott if you didn’t bite me that night I would’ve gotten severely hurt, could’ve very well died from a fall that high, you saved me. And you’ve saved me ever since, nothing bad that’s happened is your fault and you don’t need to apologize for it.” The assurances fall from Liam’s lips in seconds.

“I just want you to be safe and- and when you’re with me, you’re not.” No matter where they go there’s always a threat of danger against Scott, he’s a True Alpha, a lot of people have problems with him just because of that.

“Then I will spend the rest of my life in danger.” A laugh bubbles out of Scott’s throat at how corny that came across, Liam laughs right alongside him, taking Scott’s hands into his own.

“You get my point. I won’t leave and I don’t want to, you’re stuck with me no matter what. You biting me saved me in a way Scott, I found my family in the pack and with you, I would’ve never had this much of a support system without you.

“You could’ve been normal and lived a normal life.” Scott argues weakly.

“Normal isn’t something I’m very good at, and I wouldn’t trade us for anything.” A watery smile forms on Scott’s lips when Liam pulls his hand up to kiss the back of his knuckles.

“I love you Li.” In the simplest terms but it’s so much more than three words, it’s an entirely different language strung together by the vibrations Liam’s laugh makes and how their heartbeats sound pressed together, something only they could understand.

“I love you too, you never have to doubt that.”

Just before Liam can lean and kiss Scott, Melissa’s voice stops him.

“Hold on, he might have a fever and be contagious.”

Turns out he is, but Liam doesn’t care and simply pulls Scott’s frame into his own and presses soft kisses to his head while Melissa calls Deaton to see if he has any werewolf specific fever medication. A movie gets set up on Scott’s laptop in the middle of Scott’s bed and Liam whispers that everything is going to be alright, that they can talk more when Scott isn’t sick and it’s not three am. Scott lets that be enough and relaxes into Liam with a content smile.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 3

whats playing: Ivy by Frank Ocean

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues, first few chapters are flashbacks to high school, they WILL NOT be explicit just fluff.

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

A/N: Didn't think I'd have the entire "before" aspect of this story drag on so long but the angst is so needed. There is nothing angstier than an unrequited high school romance. This is a short one. The Javi we know will come soon, mama is working!

Also... it will be very clear that I don't know much about the police... surely not business I care about either! Go along with whatever I say though.

word count: 3.8k

Your first kiss was technically one that you didn’t ask for so to make up for it, a week later you got shit faced at Monica’s and sucked face with Daniel from chemistry, a junior. Half of it was because you were fresh off seeing Lorraine and Javier kiss in the hallway just 2 hours prior so making out with Daniel was kind of a no brainer.  

Your shoes squeaked against the polished school tiles, still in your gym attire. Your hair tied in a ponytail as you walked to get your clothes from the locker, you didn’t really trust the gym lockers after a top of yours got stolen. Steps from behind you hurry. “You hooked up with Daniel?” Javier’s voice echoed in the empty hall. Eyes widening. Your eyes scan the hall for on lookers. 

He stands next to you, shortening his steps once he's leveled. Using his own line on him with narrowed eyes, “Don’t you have class? Stalker…” You hadn't really spent time together after new year’s but he and Lorraine sent a bouquet of flowers to your house on your 16th birthday. Catching up in the halls was what had to suffice. He’d tell you how it was going with Lorraine and then you would find an excuse to hurry away before getting too jealous.

He lifts the wooden pass, “It’s called a bathroom break cariño, answer my question.” He uses a pet name that he’s been fond of recently. You purse your lips trying to hide the smile, he catches on and returns it. God, any display of endearment could have you in a puddle at his feet. 

Despite the little worms in your brain screaming, sexy man, sexy man, alert alert, you manage to ground yourself to answer his invasive question. “I did, although its none of your business.” You wanted it to be his business so bad, but you knew he truly didn’t care for the reasons you wanted him to. He cared in that over-protective overbearing friend way. Emphasis on friend. You approach your locker and he leans against the one next to it. His broad stance always gets you, those guys in your brain are getting loud again when you notice his collarbone poking out his shirt as he leaned. His eyes imitating the narrowed look you gave him a few seconds prior. It’s been this way in school, back and forth teasing.

It drove you insane.

He sucks his teeth, “It became my business when I have to defend you in a locker room, Daniel had quite the mouth on him.” He mutters a see how long that will last. Your cheeks were red already from the workout, thank god. Always on your side. He peaks into your locker, spotting an orange sitting on your textbooks and grabs it. You slap his hand but he was already peeling.

Curiosity sparking in you, “What did he say.”

Javier’s lips went to a straight line and he shakes his in disapproval. “I’m not telling you.” The tips of his thumbs dripping with the citrusy juice. It made your stomach pit, wanting to pull his thumb into your mouth and lick him clean.

What am I thinking...

You chest stutters in a breath and you snatch the orange from his hand, earning a hey… from him.

“What. Did. He. Say.” You cross your arms, hiding the orange. Any more of that erotic fruit touching and you were going to pounce him. He stands up straight, a smirk playing on his lips. “Tell me.” You demand. You kind of felt silly in that moment but he seemed to be amused at your conviction. Javier’s face drops for a moment, his eyes doing that thing when he looks down at you.

His arms cross mirroring your stance. “He said you were a great kisser for a cherry.” your eyebrows pull together confused. Your arms drop. Cherry? Was I wearing cherry Chapstick?

“A cherry?”

“A virgin you idiot” He grabs the orange, and your eyes go wide not even caring as he continued to make a mess with the fruit. “I told him not to be so vulgar just so you know, s’gross” he mutters. You feel the sentiment in his voice, but anger rushes over you. It expressed itself with a sigh and a slam shut of the locker. You look back at him eating the fruit, stupid fucking orange. 

With the thought of Daniel telling your personal business to a group of pervs you begin walking back to gym with a bit of frustration in your step. Javier was still following like a lost puppy, like he was waiting for something. You take in a shaky breath as you look back to him, his eyes wide and worried that he might've ruined your mood. “Thank you- for always being on my side.” You admit and his eyes go to that place that it usually went when looking at you. You wanted to say softness and in your dreams, it was adoration. But it couldn’t be.

His lips flatten and he nods, “I always will be you know.” He confesses and your eyes fall to your sneakers, nodding at the ground. This was a bit too much for you in this moment. You feel like you could burst. 

The two of you approach the large wooden doors to your gym class. You stop and he follows. You look up to him with a look of adoration, one you thought he had just given you, you just couldn’t help it. And you felt-just for a moment. You felt like he actually mirrored it. Like he finally looked at you with the look you were giving him.

The still air of the hallway and the sounds of students working behind closed doors throws you for a loop then remind you of where you were at. Back to earth Andrea.

 You awkwardly point to the door and he nods. “I-um.” You laugh, “I have to change.”

“Yeah-yeah. I’ll see you around Andrea.” He reaches out for your shoulder and squeezes it before walking away. Your stomach rises and falls at the grab, feeling like this had been a moment between you two. You tucked it in the corner of your mind next to every other interaction you romanticized. 

“Are you even hard?” The familiar voice comes from his lap. He blinks a few times seeing Lorraine’s head covering his length. He shakes his head for a moment and she frowns, moving her mouth from Javi. She sits up in the car seat, wiping her mouth and he tucks himself back in his jeans. His heart skips a beat in embarrassment but his mind wasn't in the moment  The truth was his thoughts were everywhere but in the car with his girl in his lap. And It wasn’t like it was bad, him and Lorraine did this so often but for some reason it felt wrong in that moment.

He zips up his pants, looking out at the dirt road they had parked at when she slipped her hand over his jeans while he drove out of school. She did things like that often, she really was the breeder type. Always wanting to have sex, Javier didn’t mind of course. He loved it, it was the one thing he knew he was good at. And shit, at that point it was holding them together. “I’m sorry baby.” He reaches to grab her hand, bringing it to his lips. She can’t help but smile. Lorraine had really liked Javier, they argue lots but she knew that he had a caring heart. And she wasn’t going to give up on him just because they had arguments, even explosive ones.

“What’s on your mind my love?” She twitches her hand to signal that she wanted him to kiss it again. You hadn’t known that Javier and Lorraine argued so much, you would have never been able to tell. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell you. Javier almost shudders at the nickname, for some reason it felt… he wasn’t sure. Inappropriate? Wrong?

But Javier’s mind had been occupied for many reasons. The biggest being the call he got two weeks prior. A request from a recruiter from the police training he had been at in the summer. They were going on about how he’d be legal this summer and how they’d like to get him on track with joining the force and providing "schooling accommodations". They had a heavy emphasis on “needing younger guys.”

He sat in silence in his room after the call, staring at his Houston PD poster overhead. 

Being a cop-not even- just being someone to protect had been his dream. There had been some deeply rooted issues that made him try to grapple at any opportunity to make someone feel safe, he felt far too young to tackle whatever that feeling was. But when he got a taste of it during his year in Houston, he knew it was were he wanted to be. Of course, he inquired about the “accommodations” which really were him dropping out and taking the GED instead, so he could move over to Houston, alone. Javier though, was comfortable here again. He had his girl, and his dad.

Frankie-Andrea. Andrea. You. He couldn’t bare leave you at that school by yourself. He felt kind of silly for thinking that way, he knew you could handle pretty much anything but he hated the thought of not even being there. It was simple to him, he liked being around you. At times he felt like it was you who was his best friend, not Frankie. You never pried, you never asked for too much, you never bickered and you were always happy to see him. He wasn't used to a simple relationship. He feared that maybe he liked mess, maybe he liked arguing and fights but then he was reminded of the calm your presence caused him. It wasn't that he liked mess, he might've liked having one thing to make things feel better, almost a taunting image of what good could look like in his life. Javier closed his eyes in a fit of shaking breaths when he got the call, he saw your face in the dark. He couldn't stand to leave you. He hadn’t realized how much he hated that idea until he came back after your year apart.

 The locker room earlier today proving that. Peeling off his shoes, applying deodorant. Daniel was sitting on the changing bench. He had barely participated in gym so his maintenance wasn’t as tedious like volleyball season for gym. Now that’s how you got Javier to participate.

“And she even touched me through my jeans, I almost-fuck man” He laughs loudly, a few other knuckle heads laughing with him. Javier listened on but wasn’t too intrigued, he had a few friends outside of Frankie and them- and they sure as hell weren’t losers like Daniel and his little posse of idiots.

“Man, you’re lucky. I saw her leaving gym a few days ago, it should be illegal to let girls wear those shorts in school.” Another voice snorting like a dork. Javier pinches the bridge of his nose at the idiocy. “Especially freshman.”

Javier leans against the locker, his face now screwing in confusion. “Who are y’all talking about?” Walking over to sit next to Daniel, fixing his shoes. He never really cared to get into that whole locker-room talk. It was all a bit juvenile, and he had a girl-

Daniel grins, “The freshman, Andrea- one with big lips- she’s a cherry but sure as hell could kiss”

 Javier didn’t expect to react the way he did, he didn’t expect to feel so much anger. So much anger at just a sentence. Just him using his crooked smile to utter your name bothered him, let alone the subject matter. Andrea, you had been someone he spent so much yet so little time with but so stupidly spent so much time aimlessly worrying about. He worried about you too much. Especially after new years. Your face solemn and full of tears. He never wanted to see that again and he secretly promised himself if he ever made you cry he’d punish himself endlessly.

Crossing his arms Javier speaks in the calmest way he can, “Alright. Don’t talk about her like that” It was the calmest way, but with the look on Daniels face he knew his version of calm may be a bit different. It was a shocked one before a face of inquisition forming on his rat like face.

Javier was unfazed, with his face being dead serious. Daniel nods slowly with an approving smile his tongue rolling against his cheek, “Oh- I’ve seen you two in the hall, she’s your friends sister right?” He laughs and the minions laugh as well. In that moment Javier had felt nearly as violent as the night at the bar. Javier gets up, knowing if he stayed in that room he was going to be in the back of a cop car. Wont be the best look for him since he has plans of driving one in a few months. That would be regrettable.

But seeing their faces and replaying the things they had said before he knew it was about Andrea was enough. At that point he didn’t give a fuck about regret. “I’m just saying, she’s a good girl and if I catch you talking about her again-i’ll break your jaw.” He spits, his voice intimidating but not nearly as dominant as his broad presence alone. The air in the room shifting to quiet and dull, the boys with shut mouths-shits not funny now huh? Javier gives Daniels stupid face one more look before exiting the locker room.

His fists flexing at his side, walking off the anger rising in his chest. 

Javier couldn’t help but ask you about Daniel when he saw you in the hall. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach that he wrote off as disappointment in you but it was probably something else.  

Maybe his dad was right, he really was going to struggle when you get a boyfriend. You had been in his life for so long, he met you when you were just a girl in pigtails and hearing you being talked about in such a vulgar way…

It was a new feeling he wasn’t ready to address.

Your cheeks were rosy from coming out of gym, it reminded him of two summers ago-the summer before his year in Houston. How you guys would bike a lot more than get into trouble in his basement. You would yell at the rest for going too fast and Javier would slow down to be at your side while Genie and Frankie would race.

You been a bit distant since New Years. And it’s been driving him crazy. He couldn’t stop thinking about you being alone the second the ball dropped, probably looking for him while they were all distracted-and for that person to take advantage of that moment. Javi felt ill after dropping you off at home, wanting to go back to the bar and really give the creep what he deserved.

You confirmed that you did in fact hook up and an familiar feeling came about, the one different from disappointment. “What. Did. He. Say.” You demand and Javier can’t help but smile at how determined you were to hear the things he didn’t want to repeat. And your lips were big, he guesses he never really noticed. He hadn’t noticed because your smile usually thinned them out, your were always smiling. Especially around him, that didn’t go unnoticed for Javier. Not at all. “Tell me.”

Your tone changes and shamefully, Javier feel his blood rush. You can tell from Javier’s face dropping in that moment.

Fuck this.

Javier repeats the vulgarity, and he sees that it frustrates you, even before he explained what a “cherry” was. Javier tried to explain that he didn’t just let them talk about you, especially not with him around. He would never let that happen, he didn’t say it out right but he wished you knew that. He could tell that him being away-him dating Lorraine-he could tell you felt like you were in an awkward position, like you felt like he wasn’t truly your friend.

And it frustrated him. He couldn’t stop thinking about your face before parting ways at the gym door. Your doe eyed look, like you were holding back. And maybe he was too.

“Javi?” Lorraine’s hands flattened over his arm and centered him back to earth. Javi looks to her again; her dark brows made her dirty blonde hair look lighter. She always looked at him like she was in need of something more from him. It was the root of the most of their arguments. He blinks a few times wondering what he was talking about again.

“Will you move with me to Houston?” He blurts before the thought fully develops in his brain. The thought ran through him for a second a few minutes prior before the words came up in his throat. Shock in his body, he was shocked at his own request.

Surprisingly, she isn’t shocked herself. She smiles from ear to ear and Javier feels like he could be sick. Move with me? Are we even that serious? I can’t just say never mind. 

Sorry Lorraine, I was thinking about Andrea so I accidentally asked you to move with me to a whole other part of the state.

Oh my god, there’s tears in her eyes.

“Of course.” She gleams and nearly hops over the console to pull him close. Kissing him, kissing him again. His eyes open and in shock at his question, in shock that she accepts so quickly

You hadn’t known that Javier was dropping out for the police academy, you also didn’t know he was moving away with his girlfriend of 4 months. You were oblivious to it all while Javi and Lorraine planned their lives in secret. Lorraine was a senior and had planned to go to a college in Houston anyway, she was over the moon with the idea that she gets to be alongside Javier.

You had been quite oblivious despite Javier suddenly asking you to come over more often- “Chucho misses you.” you would oblige but always take someone along, being alone with Javier and Lorraine felt a bit too much at times. You kind of hoped that being around him and Lorraine would make you like him less, but you were doomed because for some crazy reason it made you want him more. It was almost every day that you stayed at his house.

He had even showed up to your first lacrosse game. It wasn’t your most attractive look in a collared shirt and pleated skirt, completely sweat through, chasing down the field. Fuck why did girls’ lacrosse sticks have to be so much harder to cradle.

Javier and Lorraine’s voices were the loudest ones from the stands, “ANDREA PUSH HER?!” Their voices mix from the bleachers up the hill. You try your best not to get distracted as you mercilessly hit the girl on the opposing team with your stick before driving the ball into the net. Shocked at the score and the fact that your ball stayed in its place. You’d be a fool to say you hadn’t tried harder because he was there.

Ridiculous and unserious screams from the bleachers.

Later, Monica squeezes water into your mouth after the win. She twisted her ankle two days before the start of the season, it was unfortunate, but she had run around the team limping as a personal coach to every girl. “Javier is literally in love with you.” You furrow your brows, cheeks full of water before swallowing. Shaking your head in disapproval.

Despite your multiple efforts to rid the crippling infatuation with Javier it truly only grew deeper. Every hang out he was sweeter, kinder and stared at you longer. It drove you mad. And honestly you just wished he’d leave you alone, maybe the crush would pass. Of course, hooking up with people didn’t help either. You would regret it the next day and, in the hall, Javier would complain about it. “You have to choose men more wisely Drea.” You mimic his baritone voice in your head.

The only “wise” choice you wanted was the one you couldn’t have.

You focus back on Monica, wiping your mouth dripping with water. “Him and Lorraine are practically married at this point.” Your own choice of words causing you to wince. God, would you have to attend their wedding? Are you going to have to watch him live his life out, without you?

Monica laughs, her classic snort falling from her. “You’re probably right, I’m just trying to feed your delusion.” Her words do not come as a comfort-but as everything but that- like a stab wound. You push her playfully and scoff. Javier in his tight pants and boots walks down the hill to meet you post game. You wipe the sweat at your hairline off quickly, smelling yourself as he looks back to see if his girlfriend was following. Your nose screwing for a second.

Whelp, you could smell worse.

Monica mutters something about the bride and groom approaching. You can’t help but want to push her and break her other ankle so that she has to get wheeled around school. Javier’s smile is bright, his eyes doing the thing. “You’re a beast Andrea” He compliments, and you were already giggling like an idiot. You could feel Monica’s judging eyes. You shrug as if scoring 2 points was nothing for you, it was a big deal-even if the other school was absolutely horrible.

He shoves your shoulder and Lorraine squeezes your other sweaty arm. “My gosh-I wish I had a video camera at that moment, freshman scoring in her first varsity game.” Her dimples deepen. A shy smile forms on your face at her sentiment, You looked at the two of them. They were so good together.

Perfect.

 Even if today you decided to cut them from my life- you would never get to escape them. They were the talk of the town, surprised they didn’t have a camera crew following them around An-American-Family-style. You give an appreciative nod to the couple, which they assumed was because of the compliment they just gave but it was a nod of understanding.

Understanding that you never really belonged. Not with Javier or in a relationship as good as that. You needed that understanding; he had loved her and despite you loving him-nothing will change that simple fact of him loving her.

[lythea-creation]

Broken Future - Hiba x fem reader

summary: The secret relationship of Hiba and (f/n) is blown on future day, thanks to Shams' revealing film.

warnings: pure angst

word count: 846

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

Requested? Yes

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It had been absolutely stupid to feel safe and unseen. Now everything was gone and it felt like it was my own damn fault.

Today was our future day, a day I had looked forward to since we had started rehearsal.

I was proud to present our performance, especially as my parents had come to watch as well. It was rare for them to show up to things that were important to me. So this was a great deal for me.

But all of that changed when Shams showed her film.

Honestly it was a shock for me to find out about Tasneem's eating disorder. After all I had not known about it, although we had been friends for quite some time now. But that was not the worst part.

There was footage of Hiba and me kissing. Shams had found out about our secret and had just revealed it to everyone without any hesitation.

I did not dare to look at my parents who were luckily not sitting next to me. Instead my hand moved over to Hiba's, holding onto her for support as it felt like I was suffocating.

Hiba was looking just as horrified as I was. The arrogant mask she was usually wearing had slipped off within a second.

“How does Shams know about our secret hideout?”, I whispered.

“I've no idea, but she's dead”, Hiba growled back.

“It won't change anything”, I proposed.

I used the distraction of the film blowing up with Sarah's scene to pull Hiba with me, fleeing to one of the bathrooms.

“Shit! What are we going to do now?”, I panicked. “My parents will force me to change schools and become absolutely controlling.”

I was pacing through the room, freaking out to no end.

The tension in the air was suffocating as we both did not know what to do. After all it was pretty much over. We were helpless.

“I should have broken the camera when I had the chance”, Hiba regretted, moving her hand through her hair. A habit when she was stressed out too much to hide it completely.

“It's too late”, I reminded both of us.

I walked over to Hiba and pulled her into a tight embrace. My shock and anxiety turned over to defeat and sadness as I began to cry.

“I can't lose you”, I whispered. “I'm sorry.”

After a few seconds Hiba reciprocated the hug, holding me so tightly that it felt like nobody would be able to rip me away from her.

Memories of our time together were rushing through my mind. How we were teasing each other when Tasneem and the others were around. How Hiba had found my secret hiding place and we had started to spend time alone there. How we had grown to know each other on a deep level and shared our first kiss.

“You're a thing”, Tasneem stated while entering the bathroom.

“Obviously”, Hiba shot back. “How did you even know we were here?”

“I've known you both for some time”, she pointed out. “(f/n), your parents are searching for you and I'm sure they're not happy. How can I help?”

“I don't think there's any way to help”, I assumed, my body getting heavier by the second.

My arms dropped to my sides as I accepted defeat. Hiba was literally the only thing keeping me standing right now.

“What if we helped you run away?”, Hiba suggested.

“That wouldn't solve anything. Only get you into trouble as well”, I considered.

After a short moment of silence I continued: “It's pointless. There's no hope left. Let's at least use this chance to say goodbye because we won't get it again when my parents find me.”

I looked up at Hiba who was desperately trying to fight her tears and failing.

“I love you”, I uttered and pulled her into a last kiss.

It was just as desperate as the situation and only stopped when the need to breathe forced us to.

Then I reluctantly pulled away from her and turned over to Tasneem. She was even faster to hug me than I was.

“I always suspected you two being together”, she enlightened me. “It's okay. I'd be happy for you if the situation was any different. I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you, too”, I confessed. “Please, get yourself professional help, Tasneem. I don't want you to keep suffering. You don't need to be perfect. I love you anyway. As a friend of course.”

She chuckled slightly. “Of course.”

I let go of her and took a step toward the door. “I'm gonna go straight to them. I'll at least keep that little sense of control I've left”, I declared.

I took a last look at them both, burning them into my memory before opening the door.

“(f/n), wait!”, Hiba called out. “I love you, too.”

I smiled at her, my heart clenching out of love and grief at the same time.

Then I left.

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Hey! I know it's kinda short, but it somehow felt right to stop at this point. This Oneshot was so heartbreaking to write! I hope you all like it.

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[splendidissimus]

late 2000 - Too Tall

((Content warning: none))

Genre: fluff

Romance level: high

Angst level: 0/5

Draco's headspace: playful

((words: ~950))

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

"If you could stop now, that would be ideal."

Theo blinked several times and looked down at Draco, who was looking up at his face with a haughty frown, then looked at the book open in his hands, trying to figure out what he had done. "Sure?" He flopped the book closed and set it back on the top shelf. 

"See, you've done it again." 

"You're really going to have to help me out here…"

"Be tall."

That startled out a laugh. "I should stop being tall?"

"At the least you should stop getting taller," Draco sniffed. "You've well broken six feet in the last year, and that's going to be quite problematic when I say I'm six feet tall."

Theo looked Draco up and down, appraising. "You're not, though, right?"

"Well I'm going to claim it regardless, aren't I? Then I'll have you looming over me like a great leafless tree to call me a liar."

"Sorry." Theo shrugged. "I'll stand further away so it looks like I'm smaller, if that'll help." 

"I appreciate the initiative, and that it would make you look terribly creepy. Can you imagine seeing you lurking in the background wherever I go, staring at me constantly? I'd look like I had a haunt." 

Theo laughed at the thought and went down the line of books, fingers running over the titles as he looked. "How tall do you reckon I am? I hadn't even really thought about it."

"You hadn't thought about how tall you are?" Draco pointed out sceptically. "When you used to go to my chin and now you're looking at my hair?" 

"It just happened," he said with a shrug. "I didn't really notice."

"I think you're a liar, but let's find out for you." He made a motion with his wand and conjured a measuring tape like they'd see in a robe shop. "Stand up straight."

"I am."

"You're slouching; you always slouch."

He tried to straighten up. "Better?"

"No, your posture is atrocious. Stand still." Draco pulled on his shoulder and pushed on his back to try to fix it. 

"Ack, what are you doing, I don't bend that way."

"Yes you do, this is how people are supposed to be shaped, not like a willow. Head back. Feet together."

"I feel like I'm trying to impersonate your mother…"

"Good, her posture is excellent." 

While Draco was fixing his terrible bearing, one thing became abundantly clear: when he was standing up properly, it was now Draco who didn't even reach to his nose. Theo could comfortably look down at the fringe-part on the top of his head — inasmuch as anything about standing up like he was tied to a pole was comfortable. "Hurry up before I fall over." 

Draco manoeuvred the tape measure against him with his magic and then brought it down, folded at the mark, to read his height. "Six-foot four. Honestly, who needs so many inches? That's just ostentatious."

"Huh." Theo slumped back into his comfortable slouch and tilted the tape measure in Draco's hands so he could read it too, just for confirmation. "That must make you five… what, eight?"

"Ten, thank you." He levitated the measure around to demonstrate, and he was exactly right. "Hasn't changed in years, since a certain curse stunted my growth. Lucky I was a tall teenager. I couldn't imagine being trapped at the size of you when you were sixteen." He wavered his hand around his shoulder, which was exaggerating how short he'd been. Probably. 

"Well, five-ten's perfectly respectable. It's almost as tall as your mum, isn't it?" 

He grinned at Draco's (mock?) offended glare, but unfortunately, Draco didn't rise to the bait and admit out loud that he was the same size as his mother. He Vanished the tape measure instead. "It would be perfectly respectable, without you there to undermine it."

"I'm really sorry I went and outgrew you. It was very rude of me." 

Draco lifted his wand. "I could fix that for you…"

"No!" He stepped back and pulled down a large book to hold defensively between them. "Do not transfigure me short — all right, I admit it, I know I'm tall now and I like it, I don't want to go back." 

"Come on, where's that Amortentia poisoning? If you really cared for me, you'd adjust your height to make me look better." 

"You bastard," he laughed. Draco raised his eyebrows and waggled his wand wheedlingly. "My Amortentia poisoning is actually telling me that if you were smaller it would be even easier to keep you close all the time, so how about we knock six or ten inches off you instead. You would be properly cute." 

"Yeah, we won't be doing that…" Draco drawled in his most inarguable voice. 

"All right, but I am going to keep imagining it, now that you made me think of it." Theo put his book-shield back where it came from and reached out for Draco's hand. "Here, let me see something."

"What?"

"Just let me see." Draco did let him pull him close, and he snugly wrapped his arms around him. He also found, if he stood up straight and did a little stretching, he could set his chin on top of his head. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" It was really nice, actually. Draco tucked all tight against him, with the warmth of his heated robe and the quick patter of his heart against his chest, and the perfect smell of his hair… 

"I hate you," Draco said, muffled in his chest, and looped his arms around Theo's waist with a silent squeeze. Theo laughed, kissed the side of his head, and didn't let him go.

[endofthelinexx]

Roses and Flame | 4

Pairing: Female!Driver!Horner!Reader x Toto Wolff

TW: language, Christian Horner, slow burn, enemies to lovers, age gap, angst

AN: Hi y’all! sorry this chapter has taken me forever, i’ve been packing up for school and have been working. It’s a busy part of the year for me and i’d like to thank everyone for being patient! I’m way too excited for the upcoming chapters, probably more than you guys. Please comment if you want to join the taglist!!

Word Count: 2.1k

Mini Summary: Collins Horner is the eldest of Christian and Geri’s children. She has been raised to be the fastest female racer Motorsport has ever seen and to despise Mercedes while doing it. But what happens when her world turns upside down?

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of it, and claiming it as your own.

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 You stood in your room, staring back at yourself in the mirror. You had gotten home that morning, and it was a day after the incident. You stood in your bra and shorts, your face turning red at the light mark on your collarbone. You were lucky you managed to snap back into your senses in time to pull away from him before it could’ve become much darker and much more noticeable. Your hair was damp from your shower, you thought it would make you feel better, but considering you can’t wash off a hickey your negative feelings returned the second you saw it in the mirror.

 You spent the previous night in Audrey’s hotel room trying to make it all make sense, it was out of nowhere, but what was really confusing to you was your feelings for him. You had never spoken positively of him and rarely did anyone you surrounded yourself with, of course, that wasn’t too shocking considering most of your friends that aren’t drivers are Red Bull fans. But, as much as you hated to admit it, you found him attractive; he’s tall, just as in shape as any of the guys your age if not more, wears collared shirts all the time, hell, he could speak like 500 languages, not to mention he still had all of his hair at 50. And then again, he was your father’s archnemesis and a principal of another team. It was like you were having an internal battle with yourself, you had no idea what to do and your indecisiveness was eating you alive.

 Sighing, you looked away from yourself in the mirror, moving to put some fresh clothes on, you wouldn’t let your mistakes from yesterday ruin today even though they were really making an effort to. You went downstairs and, looking out one of the windows, spotted a Mercedes parked in your driveway. Your breath got caught in your throat, immediately rushing outside, Rooster following right behind you.

Opening your mouth you began to speak as you rounded the corner, “you’ve really got some bal- oh, Lewis, hi..” You were immediately caught off guard when you saw the amazingly dressed man getting out of the car.

He turned and flashed a confused look which was followed by one of his bright smiles, “hey, we made plans to get lunch today, I’m here to pick you up?”

Your eyes widened as the memory of your conversation from the day before flooded back to you, “oh shit, I am so sorry, I forgot!”

Lewis let out a chuckle, “you’re totally fine.”

“Oh my gosh, well you’re welcome to come inside, I’m clearly going to have to change,” you gestured to your extremely casual outfit which was nowhere near the level of high fashion that was Lewis’ outfit. 

He responded to you with a nod and followed you back inside, looking around, “wow, this place is super cool, I love the vibe.”

“Thanks,” you smiled before gesturing to the kitchen, “feel free to help yourself to anything!”

“Okay, thank you,” he smiled back to you in return before you rushed upstairs to do light makeup and change into a nice outfit that covered up the evidence of the night before. After about 10 minutes you headed back down to find Lewis loving on your dog.

“What’s his name?” He asked when he noticed your presence.

“I named him Max, you know since he’s the fastest dog breed on the planet,” you teased, letting out a little laugh at your own joke.

Lewis rolled his eyes, “oh yeah, I’m sure your dad loved that, but seriously.”

You moved to sit down next to him, smiling, “his name is Rooster.” 

“How sweet, he’s very handsome, aren’t you?” He spoke in a baby voice when speaking to the dog which caught you off guard, causing you to laugh hysterically. Lewis smiled a little and looked over, “what?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the world’s coolest person, I mean 50% of videos with you in it are in slow motion while you walk.” You spoke between laughing.

He huffed to pretend to be dramatic, “cool people use baby voices too.” This statement made you laugh harder, causing him to begin to laugh with you. Your laughter was cut off by a firm knock on your door.

“Let me get that,” you breathed, trying to catch your breath from laughing as you got up to open the door. Turning the doorknob, you pulled it open to reveal your father who had an annoyed look on his face. “Um, hello?” You spoke up, slightly shocked to see him standing there.

“Who’s the Mercedes belong to because I’m pretty sure I’ve never noticed one of your friends driving one?” He questioned, causing Lewis to stand up and walk over.

“That would be mine sir, I came to pick up Collins for lunch,” he smiled as he stood behind you.

“Ah, I see. Although you’re the last person I’d ever expect to see hanging out on my property, seems as though my daughter is a traitor,” he joked lightly, though you were sure he probably firmly believed you were befriending the enemy.

You rolled your eyes, “don’t be dramatic, plus we’re about to be off your property, right Lewis?” He nodded as the two of you walked out the door.

“Hmm okay, well have fun!” He spoke as you both walked over to get in Lewis’ car.

Lewis drove you both into town, finding some street parking before walking you to lunch. It was a small French bistro right on the street with a big blue awning out front. A French flag hung in the window and you noticed the rustic interior as you both walked in. 

Of course, the hostess looked at you both with eyes wide like she had seen a ghost, “oh my goodness, table for two I assume?”

“Yes that’d be great,” You smiled, beginning to ask, “could we sit by a window perchance?”

“Oh of course Miss Horner, you both are welcome to sit wherever you like,” she nodded.

You laughed a little a pointed at a table by a window, “is there okay?”

“Yes, that’s perfect,” she grabbed both menus and led you to your table.

You both sat down, ordered drinks and your food, and began to talk about yesterday’s race. After quite a long and knowledgeable conversation your waitress brought your food, which you both thanked her for and began eating.

“I have a super weird question, well it’s not really that weird but coming from me it is,” you looked up at him from your food.

He looked back at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Miss Horner?” He began to tease, stirring a kick out of you from underneath the table, causing him to laugh.

“I’m being serious,” you smiled and took a bite of your food.

“Go on then,” he nodded.

“How was Toto this morning?” You looked up, he went quiet and looked back at you for a second before speaking.

“Why do you ask?”

You were quiet for a second before speaking, “well he and my father got into a little bit of a tiff last night.”

“Ah, yes, I heard about that. Well, he seemed normal, but he was a lot quieter than usual, looked out the window a lot like he was deep in thought,” he said between bites.

“Oh, I see, my father was a little out of step last night, I think he had one too many drinks,” you sighed.

After your amazing lunch, Lewis dropped you back off at your house and you both said your goodbyes. When you went inside, you checked your phone and saw a text from your mom inviting you to dinner at their main house which of course you accepted. 6pm came quick and you headed up to your family home, meeting everyone else at the table. You all talked and ate an amazing dinner cooked by your mother, but you could tell something was off with your father. And you’d find out soon enough you realized while you helped your younger sister, Olivia, with the dishes. Your father walked back into the kitchen, your mother was already seated at the bar, talking to you both with Montague in her lap.

“So,” your father spoke up when your mom finished talking, “you went to lunch with Lewis clearly.”

‘Here we go,’ you couldn’t help but think before speaking. “Why yes I did, and I had a lot of fun, thanks for asking.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy, are you?” He questioned, causing you to quickly turn around in frustration.

“You know technically I’m fraternizing with the enemy right now considering you’re the principal of one of my competitors,” you snapped at him in response, “I’m really not in the mood to listen to you tell me who to make friends with, it’s not like I stole plans from your engineers to feed to him.”

“You might as well be,” he snapped back causing your mother to sigh.

“Would you both just stop it, you know she wouldn’t do anything like that, you know she has a right to make friends with whoever she pleases, it’s not like Lewis is some criminal. He’s nice and could be a great mentor to your daughter.” She pointed out, “befriending a 7-time world champion wouldn’t do her any harm, now leave it be.”

Your father was smart enough to drop it instead of dealing with the red-head woman’s wrath, she always hated it when you both would fight, and honestly, it happened a lot. After dinner, your father went to his office and you sat in the living room with your mother. A bottle of red wine that you both were sharing sat on the coffee table between you as you both sipped from your glasses.

“So, you never told me what happened last night at the event, I flew in just for it and I didn’t even get a hi from you,” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Your mother was your best friend, you told each other everything and made you hope that she wouldn’t ask you this question just because you knew you couldn’t lie to her. You looked down at your glass before taking a big gulp of your wine.

“If I tell you what happened you have to promise you won’t tell dad,” you began, you were a little tense, it was hard just to tell Audrey what happened, this was going to be hell.

She laughed lightly, “oh please, I don’t tell him shit. But yes, I promise I won’t tell him.”

You took a deep breath and just said it, making sure your voice was low, “Toto Wolff kissed me.”

She almost dropped her wine glass, “Torger kissed you?!”

“Be quiet,” you shushed her, causing her to apologize, “yes he did, and I might’ve kissed him back..”

“Collie!” She quietly exclaimed, putting a hand over her mouth, “you know his eldest son is not ever 3 years younger than you.”

“I know... I don’t know why I did it.” You put your face in your hands after setting down your glass.

“I mean, he is handsome, and he has a nice voice,” your mother spoke, trying to help you to justify your actions.

You truly just wanted to break down and cry, between the stress of your job and now these jumbled-up feelings you didn’t even know you had weighted down on you.

“Hey, we all do things in the moment that we regret, the only thing you can do is make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she spoke, standing to move over to your couch to comfort you.

“That’s the thing mom, what if I want it to happen again,” you looked up, feeling a tear fall.

Your mother wiped it from your face and sighed, “ah, now that might be a problem.”

“I know,” you began to cry as your mom pulled you into a hug.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to,” She pulled away to look you in the eyes for a second before hugging you once more. But you couldn’t help but wonder if the way it was supposed to work out was the way that it shouldn’t.

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[honestlywrites]

Anemone | Viktor x Magic! Reader (Part Two)

Lumen AU credited to my wife: @meliapis

Summary: After getting to know Viktor for a couple of weeks, you feel your body weakening in your quest to try and heal his ailment. Searching for a source, you look to runes to try and find a cure.

T/W: Descriptions of paranoia, trauma, and ANGST. 

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy--so sorry if it’s not up to par, I was a bit ill whilst writing this but I did my best to shine it up. Again, thank you so much for all your support. 

Part One / Part Three / Masterlist 

Belladonna; also known as atropa belladonna or deadly nightshade, are a violet purple flower that can bud a rich violet berry that is poisonous. In the language of flowers they stand for silence or falsehood and can be interpreted as a warning, a symbol of death, or a meditation on the nature of good and evil. 

Beside you, notes lay out in a disorganized mess with splotches of ink drying where you swiftly etched notes into the parchment. Pulling back from the microscope, you run a hand through your hair in frustration.

Viktor and Jayce had brought back a sample for you to look at, a leaf that had been touched by the magic of a gemstone. It was odd, the cells of a plant are already strong, they have cell walls rather than a membrane that protected them, but this leaf–newly purple–had rigid cell walls that formed in a more geometric shape. The magic had completely altered the structure of the plant, and they had no idea why. 

Magic was not a particularly foreign concept in Piltover, at least in a way that was palatable for them. Lumens were nothing short of soul magic, one of three primary types of magic in Runeterra, and it was humorous to see the hypocritical behaviors of the council, forbidding any use of actual magic but holding their lumens in high regard. Regular magic, the type utilized most often by mages, was deemed dangerous because of the power it gave an individual to change the course of nature, but what they didn’t realize was that the amount of magic in a lumen could level a city block. 

At its core, magic was a science, a transference of energy–or at least that’s what you grasped the first time you attempted to test your abilities on a plant. Now, with Viktor in your life, you finally had a chance to challenge and understand the true nature of your magic, but it was not going as you planned.

It has been three weeks since you first met Viktor, and now you were sure your body was dying. Not from him, but from the life you had been trying to give so that he could be sustained and it wasn’t working. The healing was temporary and your body was deteriorating; research was only getting you so far, especially with your limited knowledge.

You chew on your thumbnail, deep in thought as you stare down at Jayce and Viktor’s chicken scratch. The words begin to jumble in your brain as you go through them, your vision blurring slightly. Your body felt fatigued, it was a side effect of trying to heal Viktor. No matter how much healing you did, the cough always seemed to come back and you had no idea why. 

Sitting on your shoulder, the amber ball of light seems to gently nudge the side of your neck worriedly. You sigh and cup it in your hands, bringing it closer to your face. 

“I’m okay, don’t worry about me,” you mumble and muster up your best smile, depositing him back on your shoulder. Sighing, you plop down onto the stool, staring ahead at the microscope in front of you. Viktor’s lumen continues to bug you as if he knows you’re avoiding answering him. You couldn’t imagine what was going on with yours on the other side, he had to know that you were ill, but the fear of him finding out that you were hiding such a huge secret had your mind drifting back to the dreams and the memories. Was your magic alive? Could it hurt him? What if you couldn’t control it? 

You jump slightly as the swirl of light on your shoulder brightens and watch as the door opens to reveal Viktor staring back at you. Your lumen sits sadly on his shoulder, the dull color of inky water. It swirled like an ocean full of oil and you realize you look as terrible as you feel.

“It’s late,” he states and walks over to you, his free hand reaching out to take yours. His skin was warm, warmer than yours which was odd because you were always warmer than him. It came with practically living by a greenhouse. 

“I know what you’re going to say,” you mumble and look up at him, his golden eyes staring back down at you sternly. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he mumbles, shrugging as he looks over your desk. 

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand. His eyes meet yours for a moment before they dart around your face, analyzing you like one of his experiments.  Your thumb gently sweeps across his cheek, taking in the dark circles and shallow cheeks. You feel the urge to heal, to completely and utterly give up your energy for his, but it wouldn’t do you any good if it didn’t stick.

“You’re obviously not. Your color is dull, your circulation is poor, and–and I’m worried about you,” he places his hand atop yours while pressing his cheek closer into it. “If it’s anything I’m doing, please let me know I wouldn’t want to–”

“No!” you jump up, your stool behind you clattering to the floor. “It’s not you at all, I’ve loved getting to know you all these weeks–you’re all I could ever have asked for.”

“Then what is it? Is it your research? I told Jayce that he shouldn’t have asked you to look at our samples, you already have a lot on your plate,” he frowns and looks off, planning a litany of words to hurl at his partner the next time they see each other. 

“I’m fine, I’ve just–been thinking a lot about the gemstones and how they’ve affected plant life,” you muster up a smile and intertwine your fingers. “They’ve strengthened the cell walls. Take a look.”

Viktor leans down to gaze into the microscope, frowning slightly as he takes note of your observations.

“They’ve created a sort of pattern,” he hums, frowning slightly as he ducks down for another glance at the slides. “It looks akin to the runes that Jayce and I utilize for the hexgate and other creations. 

“And the color, it changed from a blue to a purple–I wonder if it’s a different type of magic, or if one magic can take many forms,” you question and watch him nod off into an alternate line of thinking, his hand reaching over to thumb through your papers. 

“Hm, I’d never even thought about that, but it seems logical. I’ll have to confer with Jayce,” he adds and you intertwine your hands, smiling slightly at him. “If we could use different types of magic, not just conjuration and enchantment, then we could greatly expand the good we’re doing for Piltover and the Undercity.”

You smile and gently lay your head on his shoulder, looking out the window to see the setting sun shine bright pink.

“It’s late, why don’t we walk back to mine and you can tell me all about your day?” you suggest, turning to look at him.

He huffs as you swing your arms slightly, moving to wrap an arm around his so that the two of you can walk together better. You grab your bag from beside your desk and pull it onto your shoulder, his lumen making a home in its usual place by your collar bone. 

“Our previous conversation isn’t over,” he stresses as the two of you walk out the door of your lab, pulling it closed behind you. “I haven’t forgotten.”

That night, after Viktor leaves, you stare up at the ceiling thinking about the patterns in the cell walls. There had to be something to them, patterns show up for a reason. 

Runes, that’s what the boys called them. Symbols that were utilized to harness magic in a way that could be controlled. They used it for the hexgate and now they were showing up in the things they imbued with magic. If you could figure out how they worked, how they could be manipulated, you could find the key to the fleeting power of your healing. It wouldn’t be too conspicuous to ask Viktor for his notes, right? But he was already worried about you overworking yourself and you didn’t want to draw even more attention to yourself, so Jayce was the next best thing. 

The man was constantly in and out of the lab, always having to attend meetings about the hexgate and other political things that you knew Viktor never wanted to be a part of. So, you found him on his way back from a meeting one day during your lunch break.

Rounding the corner, you spot Jayce striding through the corridor toward the stairs. 

“Hey Jayce!” you chase after him, your bag slung over your shoulder. “I was wondering if I could borrow some notes from you–I was looking at the samples you gave me and I wanted to compare some things.”

He turns, a ball of swirling rose gold hovering atop his shoulder as he greets you. 

“Of course, but I don’t know if I should–Viktor gave me an earful about how I was overworking you,” he grimaces and you walk alongside him, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry about him, I’ve just kept staying up a little too much pondering the research, but if I could compare some notes and draw some conclusions, I’m sure it would help me sleep more,” you urge, mustering up your brightest smile as the two of you continue down the hall. Beside you, the midday sunlight shines through the windows, warming your skin. You hoped it made you look a little healthier, your skin had been duller lately and your hands were starting to shake so you clutched your bag a little closer and prayed he wouldn’t notice. 

“What do you need from me?” he asks and you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“I just need your notes on runes, I’ve been making some interesting observations in the plants and I wanted to see if there was any correlation before officially bringing it to the two of you,” you explain. 

“Have you been seeing patterns? I would love to take a look if you have the time,” you nod and shift your weight on your feet nervously.

“Of course! But, I just want to make sure I’m not seeing things before you take a look. Staring at plants all day can really mess with my vision sometimes,” you let out a small laugh as Jayce grins.

“Fair enough,” he states as the two of you reach the doors to the lab. Jayce opens the tall wooden doors, allowing you to walk in first before following behind. When you enter, Viktor looks up from his seat at the table, beaming up at you once he notices you’ve arrived. 

“Is it lunch already?” he asks and you nod, an easy smile finding its way onto your face as well. 

“Before you go,” Jayce rifles through some notes, his desk a mess. His lumen seems to sit atop a textbook like a throne as he does so, watching and waiting. 

“Here you are, the notes you requested,” he hands you a thick stack of papers shoved into a notebook as Viktor looks on disapprovingly. “And don’t worry, they promised me that they would get more sleep if I did this favor, so don’t look at me like that. Your glowering could stop a heart.”

A laugh bubbles out of you while you take the notes, putting them into your bag as Viktor’s lumen appears, swirling up your arm to hover on your shoulder as you walk over to him. Once you get close enough, your lumen pops out from its hiding spot in his vest, rubbing lovingly against his as flashes of light blind you for a moment. Your lumen looks relatively better today. Still a darker blue, but you tried to get more sleep so that it wouldn’t look so alarming.

Reaching down, you grasp Viktor’s hand in yours, helping him up as the two of you set off to a spot by the windows to munch on some apples you grabbed from the greenhouse. It’s nice, spending time with him. The two of you were so often engrossed in research, you forgot what it was like to truly, consistently connect with another person.

Sitting down at the bay window, you grasp the apples and the paring knife you packed and begin slicing them into edible pieces. Cultivated in your greenhouse, the apples were particularly special not only for their yellow color but because they were a hybrid between an apple and a pear. Your lumen pops out of Viktor’s vest and hovers over to his, the two of them circling each other as you talk. 

“This is new,” he comments as you hand him a slice. 

“They’re fun, aren’t they?” you pop a slice into your mouth as you continue to cut the fruits up. “I had to graft an apple and a pear tree together, but I think they’re delicious. And they finally fruited, I didn’t know if it was possible. Apparently, they grow naturally in other parts of the world, I’d really like to try one to see if my lab-grown one holds up to the naturally occurring papples. That’s what they’re called too!”

You ramble on about the would “papple” for a few moments, telling him how extraordinary it was for a graft like this to work before realizing you cut through all of the fruits. When you pause for a moment and look up at Viktor, you see him watching you with an amused smile on his face. 

“Sorry, I’m just excited,” you flush slightly and pop another piece of fruit in your mouth as he shakes his head. 

“No, no. Please continue, I am very entertained by your ‘papples,’” the word is foreign in his mouth and a small chuckle makes its way out of him as you feel your cheeks burn. You eat another piece of fruit, hoping that the sweetness will hide the embarrassment that fills your body. 

“How’s research going with the gemstone?” you ask, gripping your bag closer. You can feel the crinkle of the papers inside and long to pull them out so the two of you could ruminate over them together. 

“Well, Jayce and I have put together a set of tools that can potentially be powered by the gemstone and we hope to have them functional soon to show Heimerdinger,” he adds, taking another piece of fruit from you as you listen. “We hope that the machines that we create can be widely available to make life easier for everyone, not only those in Piltover.”

“That would be amazing,” you stare out the window to see an airship flying above as you gaze past the beautiful city to the river that divides it in two. Your legs come up onto the bay window as you turn and hug them close to your chest. 

“What did Jayce give you?” Viktor asks and when you look over, his eyes gaze back at you intently. 

“Nothing important, just some notes,” you state and turn to look back out the window, hoping that the conversation ends there.

“And why didn’t you ask me?” 

“I just caught him on his way to the lab, that’s all,” you insist and reach over to squeeze his hand. “I promise.”

The words almost catch in your throat as you say them, the lies building up in your chest. It wasn’t that you were lying to his face, you were just choosing to omit details. 

“You would think being from the undercity would make you a better liar,” your eyes widen as you whip your head over to face him as he turns to stand. “It’s about time to get back to the lab. I’ll see you later.”

Viktor walks off, leaving you at the window and you watch as his lumen floats over before dropping into your hand. His color is duller than usual and it stings to know that you were the cause. You keep telling yourself that it’s for a good reason, that healing him without knowing would be good for the both of you, but your lying was building up like a wall between the two of you and it wouldn’t stop until you fixed it or broke down the barrier. 

Pressing a kiss to the top of his glittering form, you deposit him on your shoulder and rush off to your lab. When you arrive, you are quick to grab Jayce’s notes, placing them down on your desk to read through them.

From his observations, there was only a set amount of runes, and that their formations were limited. He had notes on the way that teleportation occurred, leading to the creation of the hexgates, but you needed something that he hadn’t really thought of. Healing was different than teleportation, as teleportation is conjuration while healing is evocation. You come up from the notes, grabbing the diagram he drew out, and scour your desk, coming upon the piece of chalk you use to write on the chalkboard. 

Picking it up, you clear out the center of the room to create space for yourself and start drawing the circle that he referenced. It was like a focus, a way to channel energy physically in one area without having it disperse. Shuffling the papers in hand, you review the runes and sigh, looking down at the circle. Jayce had written down every single formation, every single sequence, but none of them lead to any life regeneration. It was all power and animation. Besides you, the bright metallic ball of golden light seems to trace the edges of the circle, observing it alongside you. 

“What do you think?” you ask, and he bounces along the circle like a shrug. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

Throwing the papers down onto your desk, you plop down in the middle of the circle and attempt to draw conclusions based on your readings like a good scientist would do. Runes were often drawn out, whether it be in the air through magic or a physical carving of them. With teleportation, the runes were drawn around the circle to harness the energy needed to move a person from point A to point B. With healing, something similar had to happen with a shift of physical energy from person A to person B, or at least that was how you imagined it. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to imagine the feeling when you heal Viktor. The transference and how it feels within your body. Using that energy, you begin to draw out the runes in the air, much like Jayce describes from his encounter with the mage. As you draw, they swirl bright blue and paint the air with complex symbols, curling and lighting up with energy. Your hand seems to vibrate with power as the runes are drawn into a circle, moving above you and circling quicker and quicker. When you finish, you feel your body get pulled up into it, floating in the air for a moment as your body appears weightless. Time and space seem to rush past you and it almost feels like you could reach out and touch the stars before finding yourself fifty feet away in the midst of the greenhouse. A gust of wind swirls, pulling leaves from off the bushes around as your vision blurs and then refocuses.

“Well that was teleportation,” you mumble and find a ball of amber barreling toward you as it frantically tries to find you. “Sorry about that, I didn’t expect it to work that well.”

You take the lumen into your hand and walk back to your lab, seeing the remnants of magic still lingering and shimmering like glitters of blue light. Papers are scattered all over the place and it looks a mess, pure chaos. The fear begins to creep back like a tether that would never let you go. It crawled up your body like a vine before reaching your throat and choking you. 

A lumen was a part of the soul, and more importantly, it was pure soul magic. If anything about that went poorly, or if the lumen was swept up in it, you could lose control and the magic from it could have been used instead of your own. Your mom, the hovel, that man–it all peers into your mind and you can see Viktor crumbling to dust if his lumen gets swept up in all of it. A sharp feeling of fear shoots through you as panic crawls through your mind and takes hold. You know exactly what you have to do.

“I’m sorry about this, but I don’t want anything to happen to you,” you whisper to the clutched ball nervously, depositing the lumen in the drawer and shut it before he can fly out, listening to the thrashing inside. Your heart aches a little and Viktor could certainly feel this on the other side. You had heard about others locking away their lumen so they would forget, never knowing who their fated soul was. This wasn’t that, you were simply protecting him and if all went well, he wouldn’t be stuck in there for too long. 

You suck in a breath, feeling the clean oxygen fill your lungs as you step into the middle of the chalk circle. Looking around, you grab the nearest plant and drag its pot into the middle. It was a large hoya that had newly flowered, kept around to adorn your space with a bit more greenery. 

“I really hope this works,” you mumble and begin drawing the runes in the air again. Not the ones from before and not in the same pattern, but you draw from your natural instincts and paint them in the air, this time the magic manifesting in shimmering green. Memories drift back up and you almost break your focus for a moment, but you remember who you’re doing this for and push past the pain–seeing the runes from that day that has manifested without your knowledge. You imagine drawing the energy from the plant, that its life becomes yours and that the complex sugars and pure energy imbue within you. The runes circle, not above you, but between you and the plant. It picks up speed and the same weightlessness takes over, a bright green light shooting out and you watch the plant crumble into a black ash. 

You land back on the ground, your feet finding the floor as your heartrate picks up and your skin warms. Rushing over to the reflective window, you gaze into it and see your skin glow rather than stare back at you in dull tones.

“I did it!” you hear a loud thump as your drawer falls open, the lumen barreling toward you. It swirls around your body, aggressively poking at you as you frown and cup it in your hand. You begin to bring it close when the door slams open, Viktor standing in the doorway and panting. 

“Viktor?” you ask as he hobbles over, leaning heavily on his crutch. “What’s wrong?”

He reaches forward and grasps your cheek in his hand roughly, his eyes scanning your face. 

“Are you hurt?” he looks over your form, seeing the chalk that stains your hands and the brightness of your skin.

“No, why?” you place your hand atop his, your skin warmer than his. He lets out a sigh as he plops down onto your stool, letting his crutch rest on your table. His chest heaves as he breathes, trying to catch his breath.

“You changed color,” your lumen peeks out of his vest, swirling with a green light rather than its regular blue. Your heart skips in your chest as you realize that your magic made not only a physical impact but changed the appearance of your lumen as well. 

“I-I don’t know why that could have happened,” you mumble. Viktor looks away from you, taking in the lab. The papers, the chalk circle, the plant turned to dust. He was far from stupid and suddenly it feels as if your soul has been bared to him. 

“What were you doing?” he looks up at you and your hands begin to shake. Maybe it’s the magic, or simply the fear, but you knew this was a conversation you couldn’t talk your way out of.

“Nothing, I was just looking at the sample,” your voice comes out in a mere whisper as Viktor looks over at the book of notes you had left open, Jayce’s notes about the runes and teleportation. He frowns and glances back at the chalk circle. 

“Stop lying to me,” he spits out quietly but it echos through your mind. 

“I’m not lying, I–”

“Stop lying to me! This entire time, I thought it was my fault!” he stands from the stool, towering over you. “I thought that I was pushing you away or that I did something, but no! It was you.”

“I’m sorry, Viktor, please. You have to understand,” you reach out to grasp his hand but he quickly pulls it away, your touch burning him. 

“The lying, keeping things from me, not letting me in,” he huffs and you feel tears build in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” 

“That you had magic!” his voice echos through the chamber and the silence that follows is deafening. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you can feel the tears drip down the sides of your cheeks, hot and burning your skin. 

“That you had magic and you were using it on me,” he whispers and you shake your head in denial.

“I wasn’t–I didn’t–”

“You think I wouldn’t notice? Every time I would cough, your hand would touch my shoulder and your color would dim while the pain in my chest would lessen. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, a placebo, but I’ve been around you long enough to see a difference,” he states and you feel your body turn cold, breath caught in your throat. “I may be lame, but I certainly am not unintelligent.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, the only words you can begin to muster up.

“So am I,” he states and stands, grasping his crutch and walking over to the door. Your lumen follows him close to the floor, its color a dull turquoise as it seems to be dragged along as if you are being torn from him. It feels like your throat is closing and your heart thumps out of your chest, only hearing every step he takes away from you. 

“Where are you going?” you ask. The urge to run after him, to scream and beg is burning a fiery inferno inside, but it would be fruitless. He’s already made up his mind. 

“I think we should stop seeing each other for a while.”

He does not look back at you, even as he pauses at the door. He simply walks out and you stare at the empty doorway in shock. You feel your knees give out beneath you and the energy trapped inside lash out in bright red tendrils. The plants that fill your lab are reduced to ash as a gaping hole seems to carve itself into your heart. He left you. He left you and you don’t know if he’s coming back. 

Part Three

[notnctu]

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you. 

[tasrasimp]

M6 + some short angsty prompts I’ve found

A/n: Hello my dears! Here I am, starting up yet another fanfiction blog but it’s for the Arcana this time! Frankly, I eat angst for breakfast so… Here ya go, some angst that made me sick to write 😬

A/n#2: This turned out much longer than I intended(🤌), so I’ll be posting the characters separately 💕

Prompt: “I know I shouldn’t love you, and yet I still do.”

Pairing: (Unrequited) Asra x GN reader | Lucio x GN reader

Warnings: Unrequited love | Drunk, painful ramblings | Drenched in angst

|✨Asra✨ | Julian | Muriel | Lucio | Portia | Nadia |

“Asra…” His name leaves you in a winded breath. Seeing him like this — body quaking, his words slurring together in an incoherent blubbering — knocks your breath from you. You kneel down to his eye level, the smell of alcohol finally making it to your nose, along with the light smell of the rain sure to come tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen Asra? Three months, at least. You’d started to miss him terrible. Now, finally, you get to see him again, yet this is how he’s come to you; you try to swallow the bitter taste it puts into your mouth. You grab his elbows gently, trying to rouse his slumped form just outside of your shop door.

“Y/n…” His soft and melodic voice has become choked from strain, gravelly with tears, “why does it have to be him?”

His head lolls back, harshly smacking the stone behind him — he winces and you let out a soft gasp — but his dull amethyst eyes focus solely on you. He scans your face quietly. The crease between his brow worsens with every second that passes in silence before his head falls and his white curls obscure your view of his face. “I told myself that no matter what..” He pauses, swallows, and continues, “I would accept everything that you do… Whoever you decide to love, whatever you decide to do, where ever you want to go…” His voice weakens and falls off into a squeak. You know exactly where this is going, and it makes your hands tremble and breath jump from you… You hope that maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s not that.

His shoulders shake before his chest heaves with a soft gasp. “But him?” His voice quavers thickly.

“Asra…” You’re at a loss of words. For the last few months, you’ve tiptoed around Asra, always afraid to unintentionally hurt him. He’s not taken to your relationship with Lucio well. “Please come inside, Asra. It’s going to rain tonight…” You try to tug him up but he stubbornly remains in his spot.

“Go in there?” He wants it to be mean — you can tell by the pointed glance and grimace he gives you while shaking off your hands — but it still comes out as a whine, “Go in there and have to relive everything I can’t have?” A heavy sigh that leaves you as your own head falls… You can’t help the tightening in your chest, or the thought that’s wiggled into your mind like an unwelcome bug since Asra first gave you this look; maybe you shouldn’t stay with Lucio… Maybe you owe more to Asra…

“I’m sorry…” Is all you can whisper through your own thickening voice.

“Sorry?” He spins to you, quickly bringing himself to his knees in front of you and taking your warmed cheeks in his freezing hands. “I’m not saying this to make you apologize! Y/n, I can’t stand to loose you to him… He.. He…” Asra hiccups into another sob, his trembling hands tightening slightly on the side of your head, pulling gently at your hair, and you cup his hand with your own; what else are you supposed to do? You search his crumbling expression. “He has taken everything from me…” Asra manages to whisper, spilling purple eyes widely staring at the ground. “He took my parents, left me on the streets… It… It was so…” He steals his expression and brings his reddened eyes to your own. “He made Muriel kill people, made me his little puppet, gave Julian the plagued — he killed you —“ Again his hardened expression toppled into a sob, your own tears freely falling from your eyes now, “How could you love him?” You have to piece together what he says because he whispers it so quietly, barely audible over the wind howling through the city streets. Complete silence falls over the two of you. Your hunched body trembles at the cold air assaulting your front and the numb ache raging through your body. Asra falls into another fit of sobs; you can smell the alcohol on his tongue… Asra rarely drinks. What is in his mind that made him drink so much? So carelessly? He never drinks unless he’s with—

“Asra!” That familiar voice barks a few strides away from your shop door. You vision is blurred from the tears bubbling in your eyes, but you still recognize the red hair and tall slender frame. He scrambles to remove Asra from you. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” The smell of alcohol reeks from Julian as well. He lowers his voice to address the white haired form desperately fighting to cling on to you. “Asra, this is the last place you need to be right now. I’ll take you back—“

“I can’t leave them!” Asra’s sudden scream startles the both of you. His white curls tangle as he shakes his head violently, “I can’t leave them again!” Finally, your very own sob makes your head fall, and a strangled sigh falls from Julian.

“Oh, dear, don’t cry… Please, Asra is just…” Julian’s hand meets your shoulder hesitantly, “He’s drunk… A few too many salty bitters will make you say the damndest things!” He tries to chuckle the gloom away from the two of you, but his light expression quickly falls away again. Julian’s good at many things, but consoling someone isn’t one of them; let alone consoling two people at odds with each other.

“Look, Asra… We need to go.” It seems Asra has no intention of listening to Julian, as his hands tighten their hold on you — his grip almost painful — and he meets your eyes with a pleading look.

“I know I shouldn’t love you…” His thumb runs gently, trembling, over your cheekbone, his gaze slowly tracing every feature, and he swallows thickly, “And yet…” His quaking hands move to smooth out your tousled hair with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “I still do…” He releases his grip on you — you almost drop your head as his support leaves you — and takes Julian’s outstretched hands.

“Up ya go!” Julian grunts as he bears a majority of Asra’s weight. You’re left trembling on the ground. Julian stumbles down the steps with Asra, but he stops at the bottom. He turns over his shoulder, takes a deep breath, and then brings his eyes to yours. Earnestly, he says, “Y/n… I’m really sorry about all of this. He’s not… Handling things well right now—“

“You think?” You quietly snap. What the hell does he think he’s doing letting Asra get drunk when he knows he’s like this? Using the door to support your weight, you stand and bring your eyes to Julian. He’s quick to divert his eyes. “Wait here.” You demand as you spin around and begin to whip up a tonic for the hangover Asra will suffer tomorrow when he wakes up. For good measure, you include his favorite tea leaves, a slice of pumpkin bread, and another tonic for Julian. There’s a tremble in your hands as you work. You wrap the bundle up tightly, scribble a small note to Asra, and shove it toward Julian. He gently takes it, expression falling with a sigh at your shaken look; you’re barely containing another sob. He opens his mouth to say something.

“I—“

“Alcohol will not magically solve every that hurts!” You snap to the both of them with your arms crossing over your chest. Asra merely chuckles a bitter acknowledgment, but Julian looks to his feet with a shamed blush. “This goes for the both of you: never take up a bottle when something hurts. It doesn’t rinse it away… It makes it worse.” You pull your lips into a thin line in a sorry attempt to stop the trembling of your lips and jut your chin towards the package in Julian’s hand. “Brew it tomorrow morning for the both of you, it’ll help the hang over. Make sure you eat with it too!” You turn away with crossed arms, beginning to close the door to your shop, but you stop short. You turn around to meet Asra’s weary gaze, tears rolling across an expressionless face, “And Asra… Make sure you read that note too.” You shut the door before either of them can say anything else.

With the door shut and secure against them, you press your back against the smooth wood. The contrast of that cold wood and your hot palms sends a nauseating shiver through your body. Through your open window, the sounds of Julian scolding the magician and Asra spewing back to him his reasons and excuses carries through with the cold night wind. Your shoulders lurch forward and you slap your hand over your mouth to try and strangle the shrill of the sob that’s left you. There’s a weakness in your legs that makes you fall to your knees and cradle your head in your hands.

What do you do? What can you do?

Do you deserve to love anyone but Asra? Your body begins to tremble. Do you deserve any of what Asra has given you? Your body is hunched over. Do you deserve to be alive right now? You wonder if Asra will be able to answer your note tomorrow after he sobers up…

“I’m so sorry Asra. What do I do?” Is scribbled on that note to Asra, barely legible. That question… You’re not strong enough to answer it yourself. So you’ve asked him for guidance one last time; you promise it’s the last time…

What do you do?