#still crawling into his head and his voice!

[elstattoo]

Ellie (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship)

MINORS DNI, MEN DNI

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

WC: 7k

Summary: Ellie was infatuated the day she met you. The two of you instantly growing close, in turn she fell in love with you. One problem, she was a coward.

Content: 18+, best friends to lovers troupe, college auish, loser!Ellie, femme type reader, both Ellie and reader are oblivious asf, weed (e using), smut, sub! ellie, thigh riding, pussy eating, fingering, biting, marking, top! reader

Divider Credit: @enchanthings (I love your work so much! You make the cutest stuff) 😭💗

Author’s Note: Huge thank you to @astralnymphh for reading this for over and giving me suggestions! You’re the best and I love you mwah!! You also inspired me to write loser Ellie… Sooo ♡ Based on the song Jenny by Studio Killers! Also… We need more sub! Ellie… please

I. A Smile Beyond Words —

Both you and Ellie had been friends as long as you could remember. The memory was like yesterday: it was first when Ellie moved into your neighborhood, your mom lugging you over with her, freshly baked cookies in hand, she knocked gently on the door and waited for an answer.

“Mom, they’re still unpacking. This is probably such a bad time,” you sighed. Anxiously you began bouncing your foot, staying close to your mom almost to hide yourself from whoever would answer the door.

A smile was still present on her face. With a hand, she waved you off. “Nonsense, sweetheart! Who wouldn’t want home-baked goods?” she giggled. The house's front door opened, and a gruff-looking man nodded, greeting you both. 

“Hello, may I help you?” he remarked, his hands still steady on the door. 

“Hello! Sorry to bother you sir, but my daughter and I here saw you move into the neighborhood..” your mother began, her tone was cheery, and welcoming, “And we wanted to say hello! And give you this.” She offers him the cookie container.

His mouth hung open for a second in disbelief, before he collected himself and took the container from her hand. “That’s very kind of you, miss. My name is Joel… Joel Miller,” he mumbled, his other hand reaching out to offer his hand out to shake your mother's.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Joel… Got any kids?”

“Yeah.” His eyes fell onto you briefly before continuing, “Probably about your age actually, let me call for her.” His head turned, and he yelled: “Hey Ellie! Come greet our neighbors.”

A voice from farther within the home yelled back, clear annoyance in the tone, “Hold on!”

“No! Ellie, now,” he hollered, rolling his eyes, and turning to your mom. She laughed, knowing all too well how that felt. 

A sigh escaped Ellie’s lips. She stopped unpacking her room and made her way to the front door, where she saw her dad chatting away, a container in his hand, and a woman on their front steps with a girl who looked her age beside her.

Joel noticed Ellie and cleared his throat, “This is my daughter… Ellie.”

Ellie, now seeing you, awkwardly stood beside Joel and didn’t dare utter a peep. Her freckled cheeks flushed, embarrassment crawling over her bones realizing not only your mom heard her reply, but so did you. She realized the tone she used wasn’t the best… especially for her first impression. Joel’s free hand slung around her shoulder, and she groaned, waving at you realizing that’s what he was hinting to do. 

She didn’t expect you to brightly smile at her and introduce yourself, finally feeling at ease seeing a girl your age in your neighborhood, let alone your next-door neighbor. And, that’s how you and Ellie met.

She’d somehow found the courage to bring you to her room, posters of Savage Starlight, space, and her favorite band adorning her walls. 

“Wow! Your room is so cool, I haven’t had a girl my age like you in our neighborhood in… who knows how long,” you sighed. 

Ellie gulped, nervously fiddling with her nail beds. “U-uh thanks…” Her eyes were glued to the many boxes still scattered around her room.

You settled your eyes back on her, noticing her frigid gestures. I know you’re nervous, but I am glad to meet you,” you beamed, hand reaching out to shake hers. “I do want to be your friend… Your best friend, maybe even…” 

Ellie laughed the thought at the time seeming impossible to her lonely self. “You’re joking right?” She bit her lip, feeling bad suddenly because of her tone.

You shook your head, reaching out and grasping her hand. “No, I’m serious. I promise, pinky swear,” you winked at her, holding out your pinky.

Her mouth hung open, this was the first time something like this had ever happened to Ellie. “Okay…. Let’s give this a try then—shall we?” She stuck out her pinky finger, twisting it with yours to conclude the pinky promise. 

From there, the two of you were stuck together like glue in your college, even through your high school years. The two of you had a relationship like no other, even with the new friends you’d both made over the years.

Things never changed.

II. Best Friends —

Even though you and Ellie met at fourteen, it didn’t stop you from having things like matching bracelets. Both you and Ellie had a set of bracelets you made together, first when your friendship had started. 

It was an idea sparked when the two of you were looking for a specific movie. You shuffled around different items to try to discover the movie you’d both tried your hardest to find. But with no luck yet, you kept your search up.

This leads to you finding a box of beads, strings, and other things to make bracelets or other jewelry. 

You glanced over the box, showing it to Ellie. “Hey! This looks fun, Ellie. Let’s try it. Pretty please…”

She rolled her eyes, her slit eyebrow-raising. “Beaded bracelets? What are we—in middle school?” Ellie teased, she was kidding and wouldn’t ever want to be mean to you seriously. She’d never want to cross that line or break it. 

You pouted, hugging the box to your chest. “Ellie… If you’re going to be my friend… We need matching bracelets, so…pretty please?” You gave your best puppy dog eyes, trying to make them appear bigger to guilt Ellie into accepting. 

She was going to accept, either way, she just liked pushing people’s buttons. “Of course we can do it!” She smiled at you, grabbing the box and the two of you created each other a bracelet. It read your name, yours reading hers, along with your favorite color beads, and some charms. 

You smiled, looking over the bracelet now on your wrist. You’d swore you’d never take it off, and Ellie did the same. 

“Thank you,” you shyly said.

You were too kind, too kind to be thanking for something like a friendship bracelet. She was just so honored to be your friend, so silently, Ellie hugged you. 

The embrace cut you off guard, her not saying anything back besides abruptly pulling you into a hug. A hug you never wanted to let go of. 

Ellie’s physical affection towards the people she loved was one of her strongest ways of showing she cared about someone, including you. She was like a koala bear.

Your koala bear. 

III. Stolen Lipstick —

Ellie was captivated the day you smiled at her; it took her breath away, and even to this day, it makes her heart pound slightly in her chest. Ellie stared at you, sitting in your vanity chair and applying lipstick to your lips. She observed the way the pink made your eyes pop, the color complimenting the color of your skin.

You hummed, shaking your head, hand extending for a makeup wipe to remove the color. “It’s not the right one, El. I don’t know, I’ll try this one,” you frowned. You removed the previous color, puckering your lips, and applying the new darker shade of pink to your lips. “Yep! This is the one.”

Ellie smiled, loving either color on you. “Whatever makes you happy, babe,” she shrugged, the stupid giddy smile never leaving her face. It was like you cast a spell on her from the day she met you, that had her obsessed, and hopelessly in love with her perfect best friend.

You shifted your body to face her, “You’re too nice to me, I’m going to the bathroom, and then let’s get going, okay?” You muttered, getting up and slipping out of the door hearing a little ‘mhm’ from Ellie.

Once Ellie was sure the coast was clear, she got up from your bed and slipped over to where you sat only moments ago. She grabbed the previous color of lipstick you wiped off, pocketing it into her baggy camo pants. She figuratively crossed her fingers, hoping and praying you wouldn’t notice the color gone. In her gut, she felt bad but knew it truly would go unnoticed due to the many lipsticks you had.

She swallowed, awkwardly looking at your vanity for a moment then remembered you’d be back soon. She went over to the bed and laid back down in the position she was previously in before you left. Her face hit your pillow, the scent of your perfume filling your lungs, almost lulling her to slumber. Ellie was almost grateful she scurried back into your bed, because only seconds after you came bouncing back into your room. 

“Hey! Sleepyhead! Wakey, wakey let’s go,” you excitedly clapped your hands together and walked over to your bed, where Ellie was comfortably lying.  

She groaned, turning her head propped up on your pillows to face you. “Alright, fine I’m getting up,” she spoke and got up from your bed. 

You grinned at her, and it made her hold her breath at the sight. As a person you are so alluring and pretty to Ellie, the simplest thing like your smile had her down so bad. It was almost hard to be around you at times. The two of you were always together, so always pushing aside her feelings for you was swallowing her whole. 

But one thing about Ellie is that she is a coward. A coward too afraid to admit her feelings for you and ruin your friendship. So that’s why she did little things, like stealing your lipstick and other things now and then. It was nothing you’d miss, but those things meant the world to her. So, Ellie felt like both a loser and a coward simultaneously.

IV. Hidden Sorrows —

Silence. A dead silence fell over Ellie.

Ellie felt her mouth run dry, she opened it for a moment and quickly closed it, still at a loss for words. Her brow arched, green eyes glimmering under the car’s light. “You got a boyfriend…?” She uttered, finally forming words.

You were sitting next to her in the passenger seat, nervously fiddling with your manicured nails. “Mhm, he asked me out yesterday, and I wanted to tell you. Are you upset?” You noticed her quiet behavior when you mentioned it and frowned. 

Ellie noted the obvious frown on her face and shook her head, “No, no! I didn’t mean to come off that way. Just… scared he’ll hurt you or something,” she whispered. She tried to play off her quietness and shift in attitude upon hearing the information as simply, that. 

She didn’t want you to know that her heart broke in two. The words hit her like a ton of bricks, sadness washing over her knowing her perfect best friend was taken. Taken and stolen from her now that you had a boyfriend. Ellie wanted to be the person you were taken by, but she’d never admit that, especially not to you.

It was silly, she knew she’d never get a shot with you or even a chance, but here she is, sad over you getting a boyfriend. Which was inevitable, wasn’t it? It was like the earth was mocking her and playing some huge prank on her.

“Is that it? I don’t know… You just seem so off since I told you about it,” you pouted, puffing your cheeks. You were being playful, but also serious with your tone. Ellie could tell. She could always read you, like an open book.  

Ellie eagerly nodded, not wanting to infringe on your happiness. Even if she loved you, your feelings always came first. It would be selfish of her to be upset. 

So she bit back those feelings, as always, and pushed a reassuring smile on her face. “Yes that’s… it. I promise.” She grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently to try and reassure you.

Your hand squeezed hers back, leaning over from your seat to lean your head against her broad shoulder. The way you comfortably rested your head on Ellie had her breath hitching for a moment, the smell of your perfume filled her nostrils, and the warmth of your hand was so comforting. 

“Thank you for looking out for me though, El,” you muttered, nuzzling yourself more into Ellie’s shoulder. 

You always enjoyed being close, and physical with Ellie. It was one of your favorite aspects of your friendship. Sometimes you’d wonder why no other person made you feel the way Ellie does. Somehow, you chalked up how you felt for Ellie as nothing more than a friendship. Despite the numerous times you or Ellie had been asked, you’re nothing more than friends.

Feeling you nuzzle more into her shoulder, she peered down, despite you being in a relationship now she couldn’t love you any less. Ellie felt her face grow warm, she knew she was staring but you looked so pretty in the dim light of the car, your hair sprawled on her shoulder and face nuzzled into her shoulder.

Ellie leaned down, inhaling the scent of her hair and pressing a sweet kiss to your head. She didn’t miss the muffled giggle from you, and she smiled, her hand squeezing yours once again. It was a habit of hers. 

“Always, pretty.”

V. Smoke It Away —

There were always points in your and Ellie's relationship that crossed the line, many, many times. Even due to just how touchy the two of you were. Always cuddling, holding hands, and hugging. It was things friends did, but it always felt like there was more between you two.

Ellie sighed, her tattooed arm gripping the pillow in frustration. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? Why did she have to be so hopelessly in love with her best friend? These were questions that often crossed her mind, especially now you had a boyfriend named… What was his name again? Derek? Micheal?

Ellie, in all honesty, didn’t care. She would find herself drifting off when you’d bring anything about your boyfriend up. She wanted to be happy for you, and she was; but the more you talked about him and spent time with him the distance grew. Ellie didn’t like that. Distance between the two of you isn’t something she’s used to, so when she saw you texting her less, not replying to her spam of Instagram reels, and just less of you. It made it all worse.

She felt almost hollow, laying on her bed, messy auburn hair sprawled across the pillow. She felt her heart break just like the time in her car when you’d first broken the news. Ellie hadn’t yet noticed her eyes watering, the tears building up and pouring out, dampening her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them, the effort almost pointless with more and more tears breaking the floodgates. 

The walls she worked so hard building up came crumbling down, and Ellie let herself finally feel it. Previously, she was forcing herself to not cry. Almost like she wasn’t allowed to feel heartbroken over you being in love with someone else, but was she? It felt selfish in a way, but now you were distancing yourself.

It felt like a punch in the gut, she sobbed harder, nails digging into the sheerness of her pillowcase. She sniffled, finding it harder to breathe because of how hard she was crying. She’d never felt such an overwhelming feeling. She hated it.

Ellie’s love for you was a powerful all-consuming force. It filled her heart to the brim, leaving little room for anyone else. But then the heartbeat and sadness you’d somehow brought into her life hit her like a tidal wave, overpowering everything else she felt. She knew it wasn’t you who was responsible for this pain, but her cowardice for not revealing her feelings to you weighed heavily on her shoulders. She was haunted by the what-ifs and the could-have-beens, wondering if things would have been different if only she had found the courage to speak up.

Maybe you didn’t realize the amount of affection Ellie truly held for you. Ellie knew you were oblivious to her feelings, she always tried to hide them even with how close your relationship was. Boundaries were in place, at least she thought and she’d never tried anything with you or crossed them, because Ellie genuinely loves you. 

Ellie sat up from her tear-stained pillow and wiped the remaining tears with her sleeve. “Fuck this… I need to smoke,” she mumbled to herself. Her voice sounded hoarse from her crying. Ellie rubbed at her eyes, the skin puffy and red, and her previous tears also accompanied the congestion in her nose. 

Opening the little drawer on the side table, Ellie pulled out her pre-rolls and lighter. She mentally thanked herself for preparing a few for times like these. She brought the end to her lips, flickering the lighter to light the other side. She inhaled it, the smoke filling her lungs, helping numb her emotions.

She breathed out the smoke, the room growing foggy from it. Ellie brought it back to her lips, taking another drag, then another, and another before she dabbled the end of the finished preroll into her star-shaped ashtray. 

The weed made her feel giddy and light, but she sat there on her bed, its effects washing over her, and her thoughts turned to you. She felt a longing for you, a sense of comfort and familiarity, as the thought of you was like a warm embrace from home. Her heart ached for you, even after everything Ellie missed your presence in your life. 

It didn’t help when she caught eye of the friendship bracelet clad on her wrist, yet another reminder of you. Ellie pitifully frowned, using her free hand not occupied holding the pre-roll, to slide it off her wrist. She meekly clutched it in her hand, tossing it onto her bedside table.

A buzz sounding from her phone tore her from her antics. She hummed and grabbed the device, the screen lighting up with a notification, it was from you.

You: ‘Hey Els, sorry for not replying to these till now. Is it okay if I come over?’

Ellie’s breath hitched reading the message, but without thinking she clicked on it and began to reply. The weed had lowered her inhibitions, making it easier for her to give in to her true feelings. Despite the tears that had streaked her face less than an hour ago, Ellie couldn’t deny seeing you. She found herself missing you more with every passing minute. 

Ellie: ‘Yeah, come whenever. See you soon :)’ 

Ellie let out a soft sigh as she turned her phone off, throwing it on her bed and laying back. She closed her eyes, the silence in her room seemed to echo the hollowness in her chest, and she found herself staring at the ceiling as her thoughts swirled over you. She tried to push the memories of you aside while she waited for you, the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, but they stubbornly refused to be silenced. 

Her brain or heart was somehow always testing her too long for you, and you finally would see her after a dreadfully long week. It felt incredibly long to her, never going so long without seeing the person who… made her the happiest. 

VI. Friends? Or More? —

You almost felt stupid for not listening to Ellie or reaching out about how your stupid boyfriend, just shy of one week, cheated on you by kissing some random girl at a party, you kicked him in the nuts and walked away. Somehow, you did an excellent job of swallowing down the tears in front of everyone and shakily calling your mom to come pick you up. 

Your mother answered immediately and was on her way to get you within minutes once you texted her the location. When she arrived, she found you in a state of despair and self-pity. Following the party, you locked yourself away from the world, wallowing in your stupidity and pain of the entire situation.

The universe seemed to taunt you with every attempt you made to move on from Ellie as if it was trying to send you a sign that you should just confess your feelings to her. You had tried to find happiness in your current relationship, and when your boyfriend asked you out, it caught you off guard, but you accepted nonetheless. 

You cried over being cheated on but didn’t feel sad over your ex-boyfriend. You were lying in your bed, covers swallowing you up, and self-pity absorbing all your being. Usually, you were a bubbly person, full of energy, and always reaching out to your friends, but not for the past week. You’ve been radio silent, even with Ellie whom you never went thing long without seeing or texting. You pouted to yourself, feeling bad for leaving Ellie in the dark for so long. Lifting out of your cave of blankets, you reached over to your nightstand and texted Ellie asking if you could come over. 

When Ellie quickly replied and agreed to meet up, your heart leapt in your chest, almost infusing you with a sudden burst of energy through your veins. You couldn’t wait to see the person you love the most in the world, Ellie. You kept it in the back of your mind as you dressed it had been a foolish decision to try dating a man, and the very thought of romantic interactions made your stomach churn with repugnance. It was never worth accepting his offer, to begin with, then he goes and cheats on you.

The entire situation seemed almost comical as you developed deeper into your thoughts, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at your attempts to enthusiastically tell Ellie about your relationship. The truth was, your feelings for her had been eating away at you the entire time, plaguing your mind and every thought. You gave a shake of your head in an attempt to dispel the tingling sensation that coursed through your body when you thought about her. 

Ellie had always been your closest, dearest friend, and you over time fell in love with her. It was hard not to, she was so kind to you and treated you like a person. She was the most genuine person you’d ever known. You yelled down to your mom you were going to Ellie’s, throwing on a coat in an attempt to keep yourself warm and shielded from the cold and making your way out the front door.

Within seconds, you were over to Ellie’s, her living next door so convenient. You raised your hand, knocking softly but loud enough for Ellie or Joel to hear. It was only seconds after you knocked, the door opened and you saw Joel standing there. 

He smiled widely at you, “Hey Kiddo! Been a while seen I’ve seen you, Ellie is in her room. Come in it’s freezing.” 

You returned his smile, walking in through the door to escape the cold. Joel closed the door softly behind you. “Yeah, it’s great to see you too! I’m going to go see Ellie,” you replied, a polite smile still etched on your face. 

He nodded, walking back to the living room to the sofa. You made your way upstairs, gulping as you made your way up the stairs, your stomach doing somersaults, your right hand clutching the wooden railing. You never felt so nervous to see Ellie, but having to explain… everything and potentially confess to her crossed your mind. So you were in a pickle. 

When you reached Ellie’s room, you knocked waiting for her to signal it was okay to proceed inside. “Come in!” She yelled, it was muffled by the door.

You braced yourself before turning the doorknob and entering her room. When you saw her figure, sitting on her bed with her grey sweatshirt, eyes red and blotchy, the room smelly of weed: your heartbeat sped up. You closed the door and quickly made it over to her, taking a seat only inches apart.

“Hey… So I’m sorry about being kind of distant this week,” you muttered, the guilt you felt making it too hard to make eye contact. 

Ellie fiddled with her fingers, her leg bouncing with anxiety. “Kind of distant…?” Ellie huffed, not bringing herself to look at you either knowing she’d fold at the sight of you. Her tone came off harsher than she intended. She bit her lip, thoughts going millions a minute after she said that. 

You almost felt your mouth go dry, but you understood why you never did this to Ellie, not in all the years you’d known each other. So the guilt continued to reside in your every being, your hands felt clammy as they lay by your side. You bit your lip, shaking your head, “I’m so sorry- Ellie please look at me,” you pleaded, your hand reaching out to grasp hers. “Let me explain.”

Ellie’s hand grabbed yours, squeezing it and finally looking up. Her usually brightly green eyes were duller looking, which made you frown. “I’m sorry for my tone, sweetheart. Didn’t mean it, just grouchy your douchy boyfriend stole you,” she whispered.

You chuckled at the mention, which had Ellie opening her mouth an ‘o’ shape, surprised you didn’t already bite back at her remark about your boyfriend. “Speaking of, he cheated on me, and turns out men aren’t for me. I disappeared because I was wallowing in self-despair,” casually you shrugged it all off as if it weren’t a big deal. Your whole demeanor seemed nonchalant. A smile was tugged stupidly on your face, your hand squeezing Ellie’s back. 

Her eyes see red upon hearing the mention of him cheating on such an amazing person like you, but then again… Now you’re single and he’s not in the picture. Relief flooded over her, the weed accompanying that feeling. “Wait… He cheated on you and you don’t like guys?” Her eyebrow quirked, somehow she needed you to confirm it again.

“Yep…” you purr, scooting closer to Ellie, your thighs now touching. “I like someone else.” Your other hand reached over and grasped her face, forcing Ellie to maintain eye contact with you. Your thumb trailed over the numerous freckles littered upon her cheek, a sly grin on your face as you moved your face closer to Ellie’s. “I like you, Ellie.”

Her pink tongue ran over her lips quickly, she blinked a few times, not believing what she was hearing. “W-what…” she uttered, disbelief written on her face. “You- Sweetheart, like me? I must be dreaming, I swear…” 

“Nope, you aren’t, Ellie…” you rasped, your thumb tickling her skin. Even with her eyes all red, and her hair thrown in her usual half-up bun, she looked so pretty. Without thinking your lips fell onto hers, only for what felt like seconds before you pulled away. “Fuck- I just confessed and kissed you, El. I’m sorry-” 

Your worries were swallowed by Ellie’s lips on yours, she hungrily kissed you again, your lips swallowing the tiny moan she let out. As you kissed her, you could taste a distinct tang of weed on her tongue. Her hand lets go of yours, her fingers gripping your sides. The kiss was wet and intense, fueled by a sense of urgency and longing. Both of you are feeling the weight of the week-long separation. 

You pulled back briefly in need of air as you were caught off guard by the kisses. “Ellie, I’ve wanted to ruin our friendship for who knows how long…” you panted, your eyes glued to hers. 

She felt jittery, your hand now free from hers, comfortably grasping her side, your hand going up and down her side. It was like the weed heightened everything she was feeling, her pupils were blown out as she took her breaths of air. 

She shook her head, tongue once again darting out to wet her lips. “You’ve… wanted to ruin our friendship? God, I’ve wanted to kiss you… I felt like some stupid lesbian yearning over her best friend.” She sighed, shaking her slightly at her obliviousness to your feelings for her. 

You giggled, the sound making her smile harder. She missed you… and missed that sound escaping your lips. She wished she could mentally take a picture of you, the way you captivated her was like nothing else. You were like an angel, somehow, that blessed the earth with your beauty and kindness. 

“Glad we both feel the same way, now shut up, and kiss me, Els,” you playfully tugged her forward and pressed your lips against hers. The desire, and need for each other are overly apparent.

She nodded her head eagerly into the kiss, her lips eagerly pressing back. Your tongue swiped against her lower lip, the sensation driving her wild. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, you were an entirely new experience for the girl. 

An experience like this she’d imagined more times than she could count on her hand, but one that was happening. She still couldn’t believe it. 

She opened her mouth, realizing you wanted excess inside. Feeling your tongue against hers made Ellie let out another breathy moan, your tongues messily sliding against one another. You took the opportunity to suck on Ellie’s tongue, the sensation going straight to her core, her grip tightening on your hips. 

The grip she held on you only furthered fueled your actions, you went back to greedily kissing her, almost sucking the life out of the poor girl from just kissing. 

The pair of you separated, chests rising and falling, small huffs escaping your lips. You and Ellie stared at one another, a stupid grin on both of your faces. Ellie’s once dull eyes were dilated, focused, and glistened with a spark of something else. 

“Ellie,” you grinned, “Would you… Are you okay with me going further than just kissing? If not that’s okay… just really want to make you feel good.” Your own eyes twinkled, the same sparkles appearing in Ellie’s like your own. 

“Yes… Absolutely. Anything you want I’ll do, just please…” She gripped your hips, the begging having more of an effect on you than you’d think.

“I’m glad you want it just as much as I do. Okay lay back on your bed for me,” you breathed out. She obeyed, immediately getting onto her back as you instructed.

You crawled over to her, your gaze fixed on the sight before you - Ellie lying back, eyes begging for something… anything, her hands pathetically gripping the sides of her bed. It surely was a sight. Her whole demeanor leaked of neediness, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she patiently waited for you. She looked absolutely delicious, ready to be eaten up. 

Of course, you were starving for a taste. You tugged at her sweatpants, signaling to her you wanted them off. She nodded eagerly, you discarded the piece of clothing and threw it behind you without a care in the world. 

Ellie was sprawled beneath you, her body now clad in only her boxers and a sweatshirt. You wanted to savor this moment, engrave it in your memory, to finally show Ellie how you truly felt for her. You wanted to make her feel so good she’d see stars, the same ones she excitedly points out to you. This was a special moment for you, considering how long you’ve yearned to touch her this way.

You moved to sit between her legs, grabbing at the flesh of her thighs that was decorated with various freckles and moles. The feeling of your hands on her skin made Ellie tremble, her green eyes closed in bliss. Until they fluttered open, her head snapping to look at the unexpected sensation now pressing between her legs.

The sensation was coming from your knee pressed against her clothed pussy, you rubbed it back and forth, your eyes never peeling from Ellie’s face to watch how she’d react. Her mouth dropped open, hands dropping to the sheets to ground herself. You applied a little more pressure, slowly going faster and then slow.

Ellie’s eyes looked glossed over, almost like glass. “Please… do something,” she whined, hips lifting to rub against your thigh herself. 

This had you halting her hips immediately, Ellie pouted at the action. If she wanted to do the work, then she could. You backed away, retracting your knee from against her, Ellie’s pout growing wider. The distance you created displeased her, she wanted you as close as possible.

“Ellie, I want you to listen to me and follow my instructions. I want you to straddle my thigh and ride it for me. Do you think you can do that for me?” You batted your eyelashes at her, your lower hand slowly gliding from the lower part of her leg to the inner part of her thigh. 

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every touch of your skin against hers sending another wave of warmth over her. She nodded her head, too eager to form words yet. “Yes, I can.” 

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt the eagerness and desperation radiating off Ellie. She shifted her body back, no longer laying down, and created space for you to lean back against her pillows. You settled yourself against her many pillows and stuffed animals, spreading your thigh to provide a space for her to sit. Faintly, you tapped your thigh, signaling to her what to do.

Ellie bit her lower lip, teeth nibbling into her soft lips. She crawled over to you, sitting herself comfortably on your thigh. When she finally sat herself down, underwear still on, she felt her face grow hot. “Should I.. uh… keep this on?” Ellie avoided eye contact with you, finding it too embarrassing due to the position and how new this all was.

This was not something you would let slide, not for a minute. You grasped under her chin, lifting her forest green eyes to meet yours. You clicked your tongue, shaking your head. “Ellie, I never said to take them off, did I?” You pressed her, leaning forward to tug at her sweatshirt. “This though? Off.”

Ellie listened, taking the hoodie off and throwing it into the abyss of her room. She looked at you again, waiting for further instructions.

“Waiting for more instructions from me? Good girl, Els.” 

The nickname sounding velvety off your tongue, Ellie subconsciously moved against your thigh, the rough material of your pants making the perfect friction for her pussy. She moaned, a breathy whiny moan slivering out of her pretty lips, her hands desperately gripping your shoulders, dull nails leaving crescent patterns in their wake from how hard she was digging. 

She moved her hips back and forth, wanting—no—needing more friction. “Yes, please let me keep going,” she whined, eyes skewing shut, and holding onto you for dear life. 

 “I’m not stopping you,” you leaned closer, your lips mere inches from her ear, “Make yourself feel good.” Before pulling away you pressed a kiss to the shell of it, the action making Ellie’s breath hitch. 

Ellie frantically began moving her hips, her underwear growing damper, the friction gliding perfectly with her clit. She snapped her head back, her boobs moving with the frequency of her hips. Your hand moved forward, grabbing at her breasts, your lips sucking at her nipples. You nibbled and sucked, leaving marks on the flesh—to claim her as yours.

Ellie sighed, loving the harsh love bites you were littering across her chest. Ellie moved one hand to grip your waist, the other steadied on your shoulder. She tried moving faster, the friction from her underwear no longer enough for her. She needed more.

“This not enough for you?” You quipped, noticing her once fast movements suddenly slowing little by little. 

Ellie pathetically shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke, her face begging for more. “No, I need more. Please… Can you touch me without these on? Can’t feel anything…” 

You pretended to debate and think about your answer but nodded. “Yes, lay down,” you instructed. You massaged her sides, fingertips dipping her sides playfully as she scooted off you. Her legs were shaky, making you laugh.

Ellie slid off next to you, rolling her eyes at you laughing at her. The sensations flowing through her body and straight to her core were the cause of no one other than… you. Without a word, she removed the last layer of clothing still clad to her body. Her underwear. 

She shimmed them off, leaving her fully bare and exposed, her wet pussy now on full display for you to see. Your mouth began salivating at the sight, her pussy already so sensitive and puffy from just dry humping. You returned to your original position, Ellie lying down, you hovering over her, in between her thighs. 

Your hands pressed firmly, grabbing at the fat of her thigh, your dainty nails ever so gently scraping the surface of her delicate skin. Your face inched closer to her core, and you pressed a gentle kiss along her thighs, making your way close to where she wanted. In your wake, you left more love bites, and little bruises making sure to leave as many as you could.

You craved to express your devotion and admiration for Ellie in the most profound way possible, and this was your way of doing so. As you worship her body, taking the time to adore and cherish every part of her body, every little nook and cranny. Finally, you pressed a tender kiss to her clit, Ellie’s hand flying instinctively to grip a fistful of your hair. She let out a groan, one deep within her throat, too overwhelmed by the sensation and her pussy pulsing for attention. 

With your tongue, you licked from her clit and down and greedily sucked away at the wetness. The taste of her was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, as you slurped away at her juices, Ellie tried to squeeze her legs shut, the sensations from your tongue almost too much for her. Your grip tightened on her legs, refraining her legs from closing around your head.

“My god, El… You taste amazing,” you groaned into her heat, the vibration adding an extra layer of sensitivity to the mix.

“Please! I am so close… Oh fuck-” Ellie shuddered, her mouth agape and tiny whines leaving, hips moving against your mouth desperately. Her forehead crinkled, sweat drops forming as she got closer and closer to her sweet release.

Her stomach was twisting in knots, your tongue relentless and not stopping as you sucked on her clit like it was your favorite piece of candy. Ellie’s wetness was leaking out from her hole; to help further push her over the edge, you pushed two of your fingers inside. An obscene wet sound came from it, just showcasing how wet Ellie was. You pumped your digits a few times, Ellie’s hold tightening even more.

The coil within her stomach snapped when she felt you curl and pump your fingers in, then out. Alongside the nonstop stimulation of your tongue working itself to get a drop out of her. Ellie whined, riding out her release on your face, your slender fingers still curled inside before slipping them out. You eased them out with a squelch, dragging them up to swipe through Ellie’s folds.

Lazily, you cleaned up her, not wasting a single drop of her orgasm. Your tongue lapping up her juices as if your life depended on it. Her grip loosened on your hair, Ellie’s chest rising and falling, trying to recover from her high. You sweetly kissed Ellie’s clit one more time, pulling away and kissing up her stomach.

“How did that feel?” You glanced at her, noticing her body trembling from the release. “I hope it felt okay, and… I really do mean what I said, Els.”

She lifted her head, eyes still shut, but snapping open when she heard you say those words. “I know, and it felt amazing… Are you kidding?” Ellie chuckled, a dazed smile on her lips. “I meant what I said too.” 

You felt yourself instantly melt hearing her say that, you laid your head on her stomach, finding comfort in listening to Ellie’s breathing. You peered at her from that position, heart racing a million miles a minute. “I love you, Ellie. I’m in love with you.”

She grinned harder, her hand reaching to smooth out some loose hairs at the top of your head. “And, I’m in love with you. You’re truly my dearest friend.” 

“Friend? You know we’re more than that now… Way past being just friends, Ellie,” you snorted. You leaned up to kiss her on the lips, pecking them softly, before pulling away to rest your head against her chest. 

Your eyes trailed off to the side, catching sight of the charmed matching bracelet you and Ellie shared, promising to never take it off, you clicked your tongue and narrowed your eyes teasingly. “Really, El? Took off the bracelet?”

She snapped out of her blissful trance, cheeks warming that you’d noticed. She’d completely forgotten she took off the bracelet in the mess of her feelings. You’re an observant person, so of course, you’d pick up on something like that. “Fuck, sweetheart. Smoked a little and got too… into my feelings.”

You reached over, and with little effort grabbed the bracelet. Guilt twanging your heart for making Ellie so upset, you sat up again, grasping Ellie’s wrist delicately, and sliding the bracelet back on. “Not a big deal, now, never take it off,” you pouted. Fingers tapping her wrist, dancing over the smooth surface.

Ellie’s lips curled into a small grin, hands enveloping around your waist, tugging you so you were on top of her. “Never,” she whispered, voice oh, so promising, squeezing your hips in reassurance.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and I've been stalking your page for a while now and I'm really surprised no one requested that one old tik tok trends of S/Os grabbing thier partners feet from under the bed.

PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW THE COD MEN REACTION 😭😭😭😭😭

The way I cackled over this. I love a good prank, especially when there is nothing malicious or nasty behind it. Thank you so much for sending this in!! I had a freaking blast with this. Also, genuinely startled/surprised 141 is just a hilarious concept to me. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

It’s unfair to do this to John, but he makes it so easy. He falls for every one of your pranks. Speedwalks right into them.

And this one is no exception.

You’ve smushed yourself underneath the bed. It’s possible you won’t be able to get out. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you’re about to scare John.

“I’m home,” he calls out.

You remain quiet. Distantly, you hear the front door shut, and John’s heavy footfalls.

“Dove. I’m home.”

Still, you remain silent.

John calls your name this time. You do not respond.

“Cabbage?”

This time, you almost snort. John doesn’t call you cabbage unless he’s being sincere.

John appears in the doorway, pausing just outside. He takes one step, and then another. He’s just out of reach, booted feet near but not close enough.

“Car’s out front.”

Another step.

You grin, and grab at his ankles.

“What in the bloody—”

John stumbles back, nearly trips, and then rights himself. You cackle, and John sighs. Wiggling closer to the edge of the bed, you bring your face into the light.

“Welcome home,” you grin.

John shakes his head. “I’m not helping you get out from under there.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You silently chuckle to yourself, rubbing your hands together like some comic book villain. Johnny is just off the game with Simon, walking around the house looking for you.

“Darling,” he calls out, that Scottish lilt making the pet name even sweeter.

You stay hidden, watching him pass the bedroom not once but twice.

Even from your hiding spot, you can hear him muttering to himself as he searches room to room.

His feet and ankles appear, pausing just inside the doorway before heading straight to the bathroom. He checks there, and then the closet.

As Johnny passes by the bed to leave, you take a swipe at his feet.

“Oi!” he shouts, spinning around.

You wait a beat. He takes a step. Pauses. When he attempts to leave again, you make another pass.

This time Johnny yells, rushing for the door, returning seconds later. Moving to his hands and knees, Johnny looks under the bed—but only at a safe distance.

“You,” he says, smirking. He starts crawling toward you.

“Johnny,” you warn, but it’s too late. He’s reaching under the bed, wrestling you out from under it, peppering you with sloppy kisses that leave smears of salvia behind.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is fresh up from a nap. He has no idea you’re currently hiding under the bed. But you’ve taken his phone, placed it on the bed as bait, making calls on it to herd him toward your hiding spot.

Simon appears, stopping directly beside the side of the bed. Slowly, you reach out, and then manically flail about, grabbing at his sock-covered feet.

You expect that your actions might surprise him. He might even make a sound, or even swear. What you didn’t expect is to hear your unshakably dreary husband let out a shriek like that of a startled old woman. Pulling your hand back, you cover your mouth, stifling a snort.

“Bloody hell!” he shouts, taking a few steps back.

He pauses a moment, and then gets down onto his knees before flattening himself across the floor.

“Come here,” says Simon, voice eerily calm.

Oh. Oh no.

“I’d rather not,” you reply, knowing that Simon is already brewing up a punishment.

“Come out, love.”

You scoot further away. “Your tone is too neutral, Simon.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“I’m calm.”

You’re nearly out the other end.

“I’ll chase you,” he smirks.

You make a run for it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m in here, Kyle,” you call out as you slide yourself beneath the bed.

You wiggle around until you’re hidden, waiting for him to follow your voice. You hear his footfalls before he appears.

“I thought we—” He comes to a stop just inside the door. “Babe?” A pause, and then he says your name. Then, softly, “where are you hiding?”

As he steps into the room, and heads for the bathroom, his feet pass by your hiding spot. This is your only opportunity before he figures out that you’re beneath the bed.

You reach out, just brushing your fingertips against him, then retreat.

“Fucking hell!” he shouts, stumbling backward.

You do it again, and this time he growls your name. Taking a step back, Kyle drops onto his stomach, gaze narrowed as it focuses on you.

“Really?” he asks, deadpan.

“I found it hilarious,” you reply.

Kyle sighs and shakes his head. “Move over.”

“What?”

Shoving himself underneath, Kyle drags himself across the floor until you’re shoulder to shoulder under the bed.

“Bloody filthy down here,” observes Kyle. “Needs a good dusting.” He winks. “Got a spider in your hair, love.”

“I regret this so much,” you whisper.

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[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Blood Moon (M)

★ PAIRING: Werewolf!Haechan x Vampire!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 16K

★ GENRE(S): Smut, Angst, Forbidden Love, Dark Fantasy, Mortal enemies, Slightly melodramatic lol, Haechan is a real yearner in this.

☆ SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is in an accident that leaves him in critical condition. You wanted to be the one to save him, to turn him, but his best friend beats you to it. How will your relationship change now that you’ve become immortal enemies? ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Minor character death, mentions of grieving and loss, blood, mentions of torture, reader has a messed up backstory,dry humping, rough supernatural sex hehe, rimjob, cunnilingus, knotting, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, drug use in the form of pixie dust, Its freaky asl idk, mature, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: Might have got carried away on this one whoops. I love fantasy so excuse the lore but enjoy this porn with plot!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your heart was in the pit of your stomach. You'd always known this day would come eventually, but you'd been foolish to think you would ever be ready. The call from the hospital had come 10 minutes ago, and traffic crawled by like a sluggish beast. You wondered why you'd gotten behind the wheel, when you knew you were faster on foot.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the busy streets. Your veins thrummed with a restless energy as you tried to sit still. You would make it. You had to.

Your heels clicked against the tile of the hospital floor as you darted down the corridor, your head whipping in every direction for the room the receptionist had told you was Donghyuck’s. The scent of disinfectant and sterile air filled your lungs, but beneath it, you caught a whiff of something else – a faint hint of his presence.

Finally, your eyes found the room number, and as you approached the door, your gaze fixed on the whiteboard attached to it:

 Patient: Lee Donghyuck

As you entered the room, you didn't notice the strain in your shoulders or the way your breath caught in your throat until you almost yanked the door off its hinges. The bed was empty and cold, but his scent lingered. It hadn't been long since they'd moved him.

Your mind reeled with worst-case scenarios. You patted your pocket for your phone, but it wasn't there – you must have left it in the car in your panic.

You hear footsteps approaching, and they come to a stop outside the door. When you turn around, you see a nurse wiping the whiteboard clean.

“Where is he?” The harshness in your voice surprises you.

“If you’re asking about the patient who was in here, you just missed him. He was checked out a little while ago,” she replies, not looking up from her task.

You finally exhale, your legs growing weak beneath you as relief floods through you. He was okay. But then a flicker of confusion crosses your face, causing your slight smile to falter.

“Is something wrong?” the nurse asks, finally looking at you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just... his condition. I was told it was critical.”

The nurse nods, concern creasing her brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d pull through. He was hit by a drunk driver. He broke several bones, and we thought there was internal bleeding. There should have been, at least.” She pauses, her expression turning puzzled the more she thinks about Donghyuck’s case.

“Where is he now? How could he just get up and leave after all that?” Panic begins to rise within you. He was human; you were certain of that. Humans don’t just bounce back like that, do they? Questions and doubts swirl in your mind.

“A few friends visited him about thirty minutes before you got here. One of them came to find me and said he needed to be checked out. I was just as shocked as you when I walked in and found him standing there, all his vitals normal. The doctor wanted to keep him for more tests, but the guys insisted on taking him home. Honestly, there wasn’t much we could do since he appeared fine.” The nurse shrugs, her confusion mirroring yours.

Just then, her pager buzzes, breaking the tension. “I’ve got to run. Sorry!” She glances at the notification before hurriedly excusing herself.

You start piecing things together, and the outcome doesn't sit well with you. You walk back into the room and focus. Your senses aren’t as sharp as usual, you’re due for another recharge soon. You sift through the scents in the hospital: sterile, metallic, but then you catch a whiff of something you missed earlier. It confirmed the nurse's story. They had been here.

Irritation bubbles up as you stride out of the hospital. You could leave a trail of fire in your wake with the heat radiating off you in fury. They had reached him first. They had taken him. You grind your heels into the pavement as you run. You’d worry about your car later; moving on foot is your best bet now. Better they didn’t see you coming.

The cold night air bites at your skin as you fly through the darkness, few cars passing you on the back roads. At this speed, they wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of you. The trees blur into shadows as you sprint toward your destination, buried deep in the forest. You split from the main highway to a side road, blocked by rusting barriers, stretching out for miles. its cracked and overgrown pavement leading to a half-built freeway that drops off into thickets of bushes and trees. No one comes this way; not many even know it exists. The only souls who dare venture down this path are high schoolers or college kids looking for thrills at night, chasing highs.

As you round a bend, your destination comes into view: a rundown motel, overtaken by moss and vines. It stands as the sole remnant for miles, until you reach the unfinished freeway. There's nothing else out here but forest. 

You slow your pace, taking in the scene; it feels like stepping back in time. The once flickering neon sign, long burned out, hung tilted above the entrance, and the peeling paint on the walls had seen better days. The only thing guiding you through the darkness is the moonlight and your own keen night vision. Without them, it would be pitch black—no lights for miles. 

Even before you see them, the smell hits you first: a wet, dog-like odor that makes your nose scrunch up in distaste. The moment you step onto the property, yellow eyes appear in the dark, and low snarls echo through the night. You’re in werewolf territory, and they’re just seconds away from ripping you apart. In an instant, you’re surrounded, their numbers closing in like a tightening net. Your own eyes flash red as you bare your fangs in warning, a growl rumbling in your throat. Teeth clash around you, spit flying as they display their own teeth.

“Where is he? I know you took him!” you shout, your voice carrying through the crowd. “I’m just looking for my boyfriend! I’m not here to fight!”

You took a gamble coming here unprepared. In the wild, they predominantly favored their wolf forms. The hairs along their necks and backs bristle, ears perk up, and they crouch low, ready to pounce. In this state, instinct reigns supreme; reason and negotiation was unlikely.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, preparing to unleash your own claws when a voice suddenly cuts through the chaos.

“Stand down,” an older voice commands as two familiar figures emerge from the pack.

One of the pack members howls, calling the others to attention. The wolf shakes violently, as if shrugging off water, before morphing into a human—a few others follow suit. The rest bound off into the dense forest.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is our territory,” the first transformed wolf says, a warning etched across his features. He stands before you, his human form unapologetically naked.

“Jeno, enough!” the old man insists, his presence commanding.

“She’s a vampire! She’s breaking treaty by being here without permission!” Jeno, points accusingly at you.

“He’s here, isn’t he? There’s no way you haven’t heard about the accident. He wasn’t at the hospital.” Your frustration boils over, almost uncontrollable. “You turned him into one of you, didn’t you? Answer me Jeno!”

He meets your gaze with a snarl at the mention of his name.

“I said enough! We don’t need to escalate this,” the old man interjects firmly.

“Dad!” Jeno says in disbelief.

“Follow me,” Jeno’s father commands, brushing aside his son’s fury with practiced ease.

You glower at Jeno as you follow his father deeper into the property. Your scowl is met with silent glares from the others, who stand in their human forms, their eyes watching intently. The chief has spoken. it’s clear—no one is to touch you.

You recognized Ten, Johnny, Kun, Xiaojun, Yangyang, and a few other familiar faces among the pack. Your boyfriend, Donghyuck, had grown up with them. His dad was friends with Jeno’s, so he and Jeno had played  together since diapers. They were the ones who had given him the nickname Haechan. You always hated how close he was to the pack. He always carried a trace of their scent and there was a time you were fully convinced he might be one of them.

Donghyuck had been blissfully unaware of the supernatural world around him. When he introduced you to a few of his friends one day, you had to fight the instinct to bare your fangs. That night had been tense and awkward. You had learned to play nice while Haechan was around, but the moment he left the room, you were at each other's throats. 

They guide you into one of the rooms. Despite the rundown exterior of the motel, the inside was meticulously restored, almost like an oasis in this forgotten wilderness. As soon as you step inside, your breath catches in your throat. The sight of Haechan makes your heart swell and break all at once. 

At first glance, he seems fine—lying on a bed in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling gently. Sweat beads at his temples, and his brows are furrowed in a way that sends a rush of alarm through you. A slight grimace crosses his lips, hinting at discomfort or pain making your heart sink.

"What’s wrong with him?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, fear creeping in.

“It’s part of the process,” Jeno says from near the door. “He’s adjusting. It’s a lot for him to handle.”

“Why would you allow this?” you target the chief. Jeno pulls you back by the arm before you can get to him, his claws digging into your skin. 

“He didn’t know! I did this,” Jeno interjects.

Your anger shifts to Jeno, a growl escaping your lips. “You,” you spit, eyes glowing red again. “You know the risk of turning him, and yet you still did it!”

“He’s my best friend! I wasn’t going to let him just die!” Jeno’s voice rises with frustration and pain. “What were you planning to do when you got there? Watch him die?” He laughs cruelly, which only fuels your fury. “You’re just mad I beat you to it.”

The air is thick with tension, and you prepare to lunge at him when growls break the silence from behind you. Turning around, you see some of the pack entering the room. You lock eyes with Ten, Johnny, and Jaehyun, their expressions unreadable but serious. You sense their protectiveness over Jeno and reluctantly ease your stance, frustration boiling over in a huff of air. “Ughh!” You clench your fists, willing yourself to calm down as your chest rises and falls harshly.

“What’s going to happen to him?” you ask, looking towards the chief.

“He’s going to change,” he replies, his gaze steady. “He’s taking the bite well. There shouldn’t be any complications, but he needs rest. He’s been through a lot today.”

“How long will it take?” You say. You move carefully to sit at Haechan’s side and brush the hair from his forehead.

“It varies from person to person,” He says, pulling your attention away from haechan. “It can be a few hours to a couple of days. But he’s resilient, and he’s strong.” 

You turn back to Haechan, your heart aching as you scan his form. The covers are thrown aside, exposing his chest, bare except for the sweat glistening on his skin. He looks different—his shoulders broader, muscles more defined, and his face sharper than before. He was still your Haechan, but you realize with dread that there’s one detail you’ll have to adjust to.

That smell. The unmistakable scent of a werewolf—stronger and more pungent than the subtle hint he carried before. He reeked of mutt.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Past

You hadn’t told Haechan you were a vampire. It was safer that way or perhaps you were deluding yourself, too afraid to face the truth. As a vampire, dating humans was frowned upon. Humans were considered nothing more than food, meant to be consumed or else they’d spoil. Vampires, on the other hand, were the undead, nightwalkers who defied mortality and the passage of time. You didn't age, and You didn't die. Vampires were superior to humans in every way. It was common manners not to play with your food but eat it. You had sworn you would never date a human. Loving a human was dangerous but despite everything you couldn’t stop yourself from loving Haechan.

There was an abandoned cemetery just outside the city where you lived. Cliché as it might be, you loved the cemetery; it was one of the few places you felt truly at peace. You often found yourself wandering there, even outside of your biweekly recharging rituals. 

Living amongst humans was difficult for most vampires, but those who tried had to make accommodations. Unlike some legends you could bask in the sunlight without fear of turning to ash under the sun or sparkling like diamonds. But there was a trade-off—when exposed to the sun, you were stripped of your immortality. You were the most vulnerable during the day. You’d still retain your speed, hearing, and agility, but you felt as fragile as a human. Many were terrified of this weakness, so they hid away until nightfall when they were the most powerful. 

At night you were untouchable. Not even a stake through the heart, garlic, or silver bullets could kill you. Still, prolonged exposure to the sun would gradually drain your energy, weakening you until you were left with nothing if you didn’t recharge. Bathing in moonlight was one solution, but the quickest way to recuperate your strength was resting in a specially inscribed coffin. That kind of sleep rejuvenated you, allowing you to regain your vitality and power.

You had stumbled upon an unburied coffin in that cemetery long ago and inscribed it with runes of protection and rejuvenation. It became your perfect charging station. Tucked away from the bustling city, it was very rare that someone came here due to the cemetery's extremely run down appearance.

You thought it was perfect. The quiet stillness allowed you to gaze at the stars, and it was beneath that vast, twinkling sky that you first met Haechan.

You had spent an entire day in your coffin, allowing the darkness to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. As you pushed against the stone lid, it slid aside with ease, and you sat up, yawning and stretching your limbs. Blinking a few times, you find the moonlight spilling into the  space and filling you with its magic. You bask in it as it dances against your skin. After resting you always got the zoomies, a few laps around the forest would do just fine before heading home.

Sliding out of the grave, you dusted off the dirt and debris from your clothes. Just as you began to shake off the remnants of your rest, a shuffle caught your attention a few yards away. Instinct kicked in, and your senses sharpened. The sweet, tempting scent of human filled your nose, and a smile crept across your face. You were starving and could go for a little snack, especially if some careless drunk college kid had stumbled their way here. You’d never understood why freshmen chose this spot to get wasted, but at that moment, you silently thanked whichever god had sent them your way. You were tired of dealing with the trash and beer bottles they left behind anyway.

You're naturally light footed so you don't have to sneak up on the hunched figure in front of you. Just as you were about to attack, a small sniffle stopped you in your tracks. You took a moment to observe the young man kneeling in front of a grave, fresh pink camellias in his hand. He was crying, and his tears sparkled in the moonlight as they fell, unknowingly watering the flowers. There was something ethereal about him, reminiscent of a fairy. For a moment, you could have sworn the flowers bloomed brighter with each teardrop, but perhaps that was just your imagination running wild. Taking a deep breath to better understand this mysterious figure. His scent confirmed he was undeniably human, tinged with a hint of canine—perhaps he was a dog owner.

You may be a creature of the night, but you weren't heartless. 

As you gazed at the young man, you couldn't bring yourself to disturb him while he was grieving. Your voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He jumped, startled, and clutched his chest with his free hand. "You scared me," a nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to calm his racing heart. "I didn’t think anyone else was here" he said, wiping his tears and clearing his throat. He gently set the flowers down beside him.

You offered him a soft, gentle smile and settled in beside him, your eyes drifting to the tombstone. "Who was she to you?" You asked, nodding toward the name etched into the stone. Your gaze flickered to his.

The young man stared at you, his mouth agape, his eyes wide with wonder. You couldn't help but giggle at his adorable expression – he reminded you of a baby bear, innocent and endearing. It's like he finally remembers you asked him a question and his mouth snapped shut, and he cleared his throat. His eyes refocusing on the grave and a fond smile spread across his face, and you could almost see the memories dancing across his features.

"She was my grandma," he said, his voice cracking slightly. You hummed softly, indicating you were listening, and he continued.

"She took care of me when my dad would leave on business trips when I was a kid. She got sick after I'd left the city, and I couldn't find the time to come see her... and now it's too late." Tears began to well up in his eyes. “She wanted to be buried by her mother but…” He trailed off. His eyes flit around the abandoned graveyard and its crumbling tombstones, their inscriptions faded and obscured by moss and creeping ivy. The path leading through the graveyard was overgrown with wild grasses hinting at years of neglect. 

You smiled, understanding where he was coming from. This wasn't the most ideal place to lay a loved one to rest anymore. 

"It's not your fault, you know. I'm sure you wanted to be there for her, and I'm sure she knew that too."

His eyes remained fixed on the grave as he traced the name engraved in stone with his fingers, a faint smile breaking through his sorrow. "Thank you," he replied, but you sensed it would take time for him to truly believe your words.

Suddenly, he turned to you with a new intensity. "I'm sorry I've been rambling about myself. Did you lose someone, too?"

His question caught you off guard. You had nearly forgotten that people came here to grieve, as you had your own reasons. You paused for a moment, scrambling to conjure a lie. But after the heartfelt story he had shared, you didn't feel that it was right to lie about visiting a loved one.

"I just come out here sometimes because it's quiet," you admitted, which wasn’t entirely untrue; sometimes the chaos of the city was overwhelming, and you needed a break from the noise.

Haechan looked at you as if you were crazy. "You're crazy."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. "I guess I am. But look," you said, pointing toward the stars. "They look so pretty out here."

His gaze flickered upward, captivated by the night sky. 

"That one's Ursa Major," you said with a smile. "It's my favorite." You reached out, taking his hand to trace the constellation. "Do you see it?"

"What's it supposed to look like?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"It's a bear! You see the Big Dipper? That's part of the constellation, and all together it’s supposed to resemble a bear." You released his hand and used your own to outline the Big Dipper in the sky.

His eyes lit up as he stared at the stars, and you found yourself captivated by him. The way the starlight shimmered in his gaze was enchanting.

"I see it!" he exclaimed happily, turning to share the joy with you, but when he looked back, you had vanished.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your skin was cold to the touch and you were gone so suddenly he had almost written you off as a ghost that night. He had nearly forgotten about that night until you appeared before him again. A month later, he saw you in the library, and he was certain you were real. 

After his grandmother's passing, Haechan had moved back home. He was entrusted with managing a significant part of her affairs, leading to weeks of sleepless nights spent sorting through her accounts and handling paperwork. Juggling family responsibilities and his classes at the nearby community college had left him utterly exhausted.

When he first saw you he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly but there you remained.  You were just down the aisle, and he hurriedly packed his things, eager to follow you. When he turned the corner just a few seconds later, you had vanished again. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’ve gotta get some sleep,” he murmured, shaking his head as he pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulders, preparing to leave.

“You probably should,” you said with a smile, making him jump back in fright, letting out a startled yell.

A few patrons shush the two of you. “I’m sorry. I should really stop sneaking up on you,” you said, a playful grin on your face.

“You think?” he whispered back, but a smile finally broke through his fatigue. “So you really are real,” he mused more to himself than anyone else.

Your smile widened at his revelation, and you nodded.

“What's your name?” 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Present day

A week had passed since you'd last seen Haechan. You hadn’t gone back to see him and honestly you weren’t sure if you ever would. Dating a werewolf? It seemed even more complicated than a relationship with a human. Your mind was reeling, and you were still struggling to wrap your head around the reality of it all.

You sat on your balcony that overlooked the forest behind your apartment. Sipping hot chocolate and watching the full moon, you couldn't help but think of him. You wondered how he was coping with his first full moon. Having his first full moon so close to his initial change must be tough. With a sigh, you tried to shake off the thoughts. It would be safer for both of you if you stayed away from each other.

You moved back inside. You were walking into the kitchen to wash your cup when you felt a sudden draft as the wind blew in through the double doors leading to your balcony. You must have forgotten to close it all the way. You walked back over to close them, ensuring they were locked before returning to the kitchen. 

You freeze when you spot the ash-grey wolf standing on your kitchen island. You couldn’t suppress the scream that escaped your lips. How the hell had it gotten in here without you noticing? Your senses were dulled, and you knew you were due for a much-needed recharge.

You cursed under your breath, taking in the beast before you. Its yellow eyes glowed, and saliva dripped onto your kitchen island, making you recoil in disgust. This wolf was not acting normal. Its shoulder heaved as it took ragged breaths, almost rabid in appearance. You instinctively put your guard up, creating distance between the two of you. You couldn’t fight it—not in your current state.

As you slowly began to back away, there was something in the wolf's eyes that halted you in your tracks. It couldn't be him.

“H-Haechan?” you called out, bending your knees to appear smaller so as not to frighten him. You wondered how he had ended up here. He looked scared.

“It's me, Haechan,” you said softly, hands extended in a non-threatening manner. You understood he was running purely on instinct. Perhaps he had sought out a place where he felt safe.

Now you stood just in front of him causing him to growl and bare his teeth. His body was rigid, and his ears were flattened against his head. Every sign warned you to stay back, yet you ignored them all as you reached out to touch him.

In an instant, it happened. One moment you were standing, and the next, he had pinned you to the floor, his powerful paws digging into your shoulders. He snarled, but you remained calm. He couldn’t kill you but healing would take days in this state if he did enough damage.

You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Haechan, you need to calm down. It’s me. If you don’t find control, you’ll do something you’ll regret.”

He growls in response.

“Donghyuck!” you yelled sternly. “Snap out of it!” You scolded him as his claws dug deeper into your shoulders.

He flinched and whined, stepping off you reluctantly. His head hung low, and his tail tucked between his legs as he made a small circle before plopping down a few feet in front of you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you realized he had regained some sense of awareness. Keeping your voice steady, you knelt beside him and tentatively reached out. When he allowed you to get close, you gently patted him. “You need to change back, baby. I know you're scared, but you have to. You can do this. You're stronger than this,” you whispered reassuringly.

He stood up, and you did too, backing away to give him space. He stretched into a downward dog and shook himself off, and to your amazement, his body morphed before your eyes. Finally, the Haechan you knew and loved stood naked before you, looking horrified as he took in the damage done.

“I’m sorry.” 

Following his gaze to your shoulders, you smiled. “This is nothing; don’t worry about it,” you said, trying to comfort him.

He backed away slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t come near me!” he yelled, and you flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he added, his voice softer this time.

Ignoring his plea, you walked toward him anyway. “You could never hurt me, love,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he sank to his knees. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t remember anything. Jeno and the others came for me and then turned me into… this.” He gestured to his hands, which hadn't fully reverted, his claws still bared.

Kneeling in front of him, you took his hands in yours. He tried to pull away, but your grip was firm enough to keep him in place. He looked at you in shock but before he could question your strength you spoke.

“Is that why you ran?” you asked gently.

“They turned me into a monster. How can I live like this?” His eyes searched your face for answers. Your heart ached at the fear reflected in his gaze. You felt a wave of shame wash over you; Jeno was right. If you’d gotten to him first, you would have changed him but that wasn’t what Haechan wanted. Jeno had acted selfishly, and so had you for even contemplating it.

“He was just trying to help,” you found yourself defending Jeno unexpectedly. Maybe you were subconsciously defending yourself. “You have to go back to them, Haechan. They’re the only ones who can teach you how to control yourself.”

“So I don’t hurt more people,” he scoffed, humorlessly. “How can you even look at me right now?”

“You’re not a monster, do you hear me?” you replied sternly.

“I AM! LOOK AT ME!” he yelled, his eyes glinting yellow as he finally found the strength to yank his hands away from yours. He stood and walked toward your room, rummaging through your drawer until he found a pair of pants he’d left behind. You stand in the doorway, watching him dress with your arms crossed.

“Haechan I'm fine,” you called out.

“Don’t lie to make me feel better!” he shouted back.

Frustration surged within you as you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your already healed skin. “LOOK!” you yelled.

He halted, his eyes widening as he examined you. Your skin was unmarred, untouched by his claws. He dashed toward you, grabbing your shoulders and twisting you this way and that, searching for any signs of injury. “Wha—” he stuttered. “How did you do that?”

Closing your eyes, you remembered your true self. When you opened them, they glowed crimson. “You’re not a monster, Haechan. Unless you consider me one too,” you told him.

His eyes widened in astonishment, but he stood rooted in place, shock holding him there. “What are you?”

You hissed softly, revealing your fangs. "I'm a vampire," you stated simply.

You could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots: why you were always so cold to the touch, how you could sneak up on him silently, how you exhibited unnatural strength just moments ago.

Finally, his body relaxed, and he sank onto your bed, looking lightheaded. “So you’re a vampire,” he repeated, almost incredulously, as if trying to grasp everything that had just unfolded.

“Yes,” you said, sitting next to him.

“And I’m a werewolf.”

“Correct again,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

“How old are you?” he asked next, genuinely curious.

You fought back a smile. “How rude!” you joked, shoving him lightly.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” he replied apologetically, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “I mean, when did you become a vampire? Has it been a long time? Your family…” He trailed off, the gravity of the conversation settling in the atmosphere.

“They’re probably dead by now,” you replied, your voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the sincerity in his tone.

“It’s okay. I don’t remember my human years; most vampires don’t,” you explained. “I was 24 when I turned. The one who turned me was the closest thing to a father I had, and he was cruel.” You bristled at the memories of your past.

Haechan stayed quiet, allowing you to open up if you wanted. You took a deep breath before continuing, "He kept me locked away and taught me how to survive, but the punishments were brutal. I knew I had to get away from him eventually."

You told Haechan everything…

You don’t remember how you ended up there, but when you awoke that night, a man in his late forties stood before you. He had dark hair and striking blue eyes. Now that you’re older, you realize blue eyes belong to ancient vampires, beings that had survived since the dark ages. With a voice like dark velvet, he taught you how to harness your powers and you learned the art of inscribing. His teachings also instilled in you a deep-seated fear of the sun. He spun tales of scorched skin and searing pain, convincing you that to step into its light would mean certain death.  He taught you other things too, like to despise humans. He taught you humans were to never be trusted and that one day they would betray you.

He kept you locked away underground in an old tower, isolated from the world above. The room where you stayed contained only a coffin. You were tasked with maintaining the underground floors, ensuring they remained orderly. You weren’t allowed to venture beyond the floors beneath ground level. He treated you like a slave, proclaiming that you belonged to him in exchange for granting you eternal life. It was a twisted bargain that felt more like a curse. 

You had been above ground only once, it was a rare and seemingly indulgent gift from your master. He would normally bring you his kills to feed on but that night he had taken you out into the world, to teach you to hunt. It was exhilarating to experience the raw, primal instincts that surged within you. You hunted until dawn, the sun creeping up threateningly beyond the horizon.

The night had ended all too soon and you headed back home. You made it to the front of the tower, and just seconds before you were ushered inside, the sun rose, spilling soft gold and pink across the sky. You had caught your first glimpse of its light, radiant and breathtaking. It painted the world warm hues, something you had never seen in the cold tower. 

Your master’s hand gripped your shoulder. “We must return,” he said, his voice laced with authority as he ushered you back into the shadows. Since that one fateful night, you have never been allowed to see the surface again.

One night, curiosity got the better of you, and while your master was absent, you explored the tower. You snuck into the library and read until dawn. When the sun rose, you raced to the top floor and gazed out at the sunrise. You longed to bathe in its light, fully aware that it would be fatal. Your master had warned you that direct sunlight could kill you, only safe within the tower's shadows.

Everything changed one fateful night. You had taken a book from the library but your master returned sooner than you had expected. Despite the risks, you knew you had to return the book before he noticed. 

It was through the pages of his books that you discovered the truth. You were taught many things, but after reading his books how many of them had been true? The books told you stories about humans, the outside world, and important history. It revealed that while the sun wouldn’t kill you, it could weaken you, and that to regain any lost power, you must sleep. He had kept secrets from you, you couldn’t trust him. Maybe if you could escape, you could live among humans without fear? You’d never find out unless you returned the book. If your master discovered you had sneaked upstairs, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

The halls were quiet, and slipping the book back into place was easy. You were making your way back, using an old passageway you had stumbled across, when a flickering light caught your eye. The corridor was lined with doors, each one leading to a different part of the tower. Peeking through a crack in one door, you saw something chilling.

Your master stood in the center of a gathering room, surrounded by chained and shackled humans. An entire council of vampires filled the room, and the sight of the horrific treatment inflicted on the humans made you nauseous. They were beaten and tortured cruelly. Their screams echoed in your mind, and that night, you swore to escape. The humans you had read about had their faults but they did not deserve that. 

You thought you had everything figured out until three days later, when your master visited with a human man around your age. He offered no explanation, only instructing you to take care of him. You soon grew close to the human, who introduced himself as Kun. He quickly became your only friend, sharing stories about the outside world and his family. For two years, he stayed with you, working alongside you as a fellow slave. At first, you worried that your master would eat him, as it wasn’t like him to let food spoil. Eventually you stopped worrying about it and just learned to enjoy Kun’s company.

You showed Kun everything: the hidden passageways, the library, and the sunset whenever your master was away. You promised each other that when the time was right, you would escape together.

Then one night, your master woke you from a rare period of recharging. He had previously insisted you slept. You found it strange but you hadn’t argued. There was no reason for you to recharge, you spent most nights watching Kun sleep.

You instinctively turned towards his cot but it was empty. Before you could voice your concern, your master ushered you out of your room and upstairs to the gathering room you had once watched from the shadows. Ancient vampires surrounded the area, their underlings present as well.

In the middle of the room was Kun. He was stripped bare, bruises, scars and welts were painted across his once beautiful skin.  

“KUN!” you shouted, trying to rush to him, but your master’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He had the ability to compel, a power only ancient vampires possessed. You had read that the only way to break it was to call him by his true name, a name you didn’t know since you had only ever addressed him as “Master.” 

“MASTER!” you screamed, desperation rising in your voice. “PLEASE, STOP THIS!” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and you could feel yourself die. You knew you were already dead but this pain in your chest would have been fatal if you were moral.

“You brought this upon yourself, foolish girl,” he sneered. 

The other ancient vampires laughed at your distress, their underlings at their side, made to watch to teach them what would happen if they disobeyed their master.

“Make her suffer!”

“Look how she cares for that wretched human!” one of them jeered.

“Kill them both!” shouted another.

They hurled insults your way while you trembled under your master’s control.

“Did you think I was a fool? I knew what you were up to. I could smell you in the walls, you little rodent.”

“Please, Master, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” you begged.

“It’s not me you need to ask for forgiveness. It is him,” he said, gesturing a long finger at Kun. “Because of you, this is his fate.”

With an audience of ancient vampires, he turned to them proudly and declared, “Nothing but ruin can come from loving a human. Witness now the consequences of defying tradition. Drink from him!” he ordered.

Your body moved against your will. You fought against his compulsion with every ounce of strength, but each step felt heavier. Standing before Kun, you could see that he was barely breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he managed to whisper. With the last of his strength, he smiled weakly. “Don’t let him break you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you bared your teeth and sank them into him. You could feel his life slipping away, and as you drank, your heart shattered in silence.

Later that night, you were thrown back into your room. You didn't move for months. Staring blankly at the wall, you cried until the hunger became overwhelming. Your master hadn’t brought you any food, likely leaving you there to die. You couldn’t let that happen; you had promised Kun. 

Eventually, you found a way out. You fled during daylight, running until you could run no more. You felt the grass beneath your toes and the sun on your face. You ran so hard you broke your ankle in the process but by nightfall, it had healed. You lived as a nomad for years until you rolled into the city you now call home. Adjusting to your new life was a challenge at first, but eventually, you met a city vampire who taught you how to navigate life among humans.

Haechan listened intently, not interrupting once.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner; it was easier if you didn’t know,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry you had to carry all that alone," he replied gently. "I promise, you won’t have to go through that again. We’re stronger now.”

“That's it though,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “We’re not strong enough. You need to go back to your pack, Haechan. You can’t come back here. There are rules, and we have to uphold them.”

“I don’t see why we can’t see each other. I know you’re afraid, but you can’t just push me away.”

"You can’t just do whatever you want! This isn’t a game, and those rules are there for a reason—to keep people alive!" You didn’t want to sound harsh, but the history between wolves and vampires was too complicated to explain right now. “The others are probably already looking for you. I can’t have a fight breaking out if they catch you here.”

“So that’s it? I’m nothing to you now?” Haechan stood up, frustration etched across his face.

“That's not—” You take a deep breath. “I didn’t say that. It’s just… complicated.”

You heard a howl echo in the distance, and your heart sank. “We don’t have time to talk about this. You need to leave. Now!” You turned and headed toward your balcony; it was safer for him to leave the way he came. He wouldn’t run into anyone and he could head straight into the forest. You swung open the doors, only to be greeted by the last person you wanted to see.

“Where is he?” Jeno demanded.

You sighed, trying to keep your attitude in check. “He was scared.”

“I don’t know if you’ve understood this yet, but he’s one of us now. You need to stay away from him. I’m running out of warnings,” he snarled.

Haechan rounded the corner and met Jeno’s gaze. “Jeno, relax! You know her,” he said defensively.

Johnny chimed in, “you don’t understand, just stay out of this.”

Haechan stepped in front of you, shielding you. “Guys, seriously! We’ve hung out together plenty of times. Why is everyone suddenly so defensive?”

“I told you, Haechan, it’s different now. New rules apply because you’re different. You’re part of their pack, and I’m a vicious vampire,” you replied, your sarcasm biting.

“Sorry, dude, but that’s just the way things are,” Mark added.

“This is so stupid! I didn’t ask for this life, and now everyone’s trying to tell me what’s best for me!” Haechan yelled, frustration boiling over.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I know it’s unfair, love, but you have to go. I’ll see y—” You paused, stopping yourself from making any false promises. “Just… go with them, for me. Please?” You gave him your best pleading look, and slowly, he calmed down. Then he pulled you into a kiss. Neither of you wanted to pull away, but when he finally did, he turned away before you could see the tears threaten to fall. 

He walked toward Jeno and the others, but when Jeno reached out to put a comforting hand on Haechan's shoulder he shrugged it off with a low growl. They all jump from your balcony and when you look down below to where they land a pack of wolves stare back up at you before running off into the forest.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A year passed, and you hadn’t seen Haechan again. You were the one who had told him to stay away, but still, there were moments when you couldn't help but ask Mark about him. Mark was the most reasonable of their pack; you wouldn’t quite call him a friend, but you could manage more than a few words with him without the threat of a fight looming over you. The city was considered neutral territory, so running into a member of the pack while out and about was not uncommon.

“Mark told me Haechan is adjusting fine,” you shared with your friend Sooyoung as you leaned against your kitchen counter. “It took him a while, but he can control his powers now. Apparently, it took longer than usual because Haechan was still mad at them and refused to learn, but they’re on better terms now.”

“You’re living in a soap opera,” Sooyoung huffed, plopping down on one of your barstools, resting her head in her palm as she slouched over your countertop. “Are you really not going to see him?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.

“I can’t. I really can’t,” you stressed.

“Well then I’m tired of hearing about him,” she replied through a yawn. There were many myths about fairies, and one was that they couldn’t lie. While that wasn’t entirely true, they preferred not to, which made them incredibly blunt.

“Wow! What a great friend you are!” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

Sooyoung straightened up a bit as you focused on making dinner for the two of you. “I’m sorry,” she whined, “it’s not that I don’t care; it’s just that you clearly still care about him. I can’t watch you torture yourself like this. As your friend, I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy!” you shot back defensively.

“Not if all you talk about is your stupid wolf-turned-ex-boyfriend that you miss!” she countered.

“I don’t miss him!” you insisted.

“Do you think about him?” she asked knowingly.

“I do,” you admitted.

“And I have to hear about it all the time, every day, every minute.” she pointed out.

“I'm sorry.” You cringed.

“Why don’t you just go see him? Just once, for closure,” she added, trying to be convincing.

“But what if he’s moved on?” The thought plagued you, an echo in your mind. “He hasn’t come to see me at all.”

“He has his reasons, just as you’ve had yours,” she reminded you. You considered this as you took the dinner off the stove and plated it.

“Let’s just eat,” you said, setting the conversation aside for now. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You could feel eyes on you from the moment you woke from your slumber. The scent was unmistakably his—Haechan. Rising from your grave, you sensed his presence pulling away, retreating into the nearby woods. You knew you should let him go, but you couldn’t. Sooyoung was right; maybe you needed closure.

You followed him. His figure dashed gracefully through the undergrowth, and moonlight danced off his ash-grey fur, illuminating the way. He eventually led you into a clearing, where the moon cast a spotlight on him before he turned to face you. With a shake of his fur, he began the transformation you had seen so many times before. It unsettled you how his bones shifted and reshaped, until he stood before you—bare and vulnerable, yet undeniably Haechan.

“Why are you here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I missed you,” he replied, his eyes earnest.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed to see you,” he said, dismissing your warning. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“That's enough!” you yelled, emotions welling up inside you.

“I know you’ve been asking Mark about me. I know you still love me,” he said, stepping closer.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted. If he came any closer…

“That’s why you followed me here. Admit it,” he pushed, standing a breath away. He searched your eyes, as if looking for the truth that lay hidden in your heart. “Admit it.”  He says almost like he's trying to convince himself as well.

You didn’t stop him when his lips met yours. It was a desperate kiss, and you found yourself kissing him back instinctively. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest, as if he feared you would slip away again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly. But before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowed as he reached out to pull you back into his embrace.

“You know what's wrong.” you managed to say, your mind racing. “We can’t.”

Haechan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “What’s your issue?! I can see it all over your face. You still love me; why are you fighting it? What are you so afraid of?”

“Losing you!” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally let the walls come crashing down. “You’re so damn stupid!” You closed the distance once more, pounding your fists against his chest. “Why couldn’t you just stay away?” 

He let you unleash your anger, waiting patiently until you had calmed down. Then, he wrapped you in his arms again, grounding you as your knees wobbled. You buried your face in his chest with a sob.

Haechan wasn't as ignorant as he was in the past. He knew the history between werewolves and vampires but eons of bad blood wasn't enough to keep him from you. He was fully aware of the dangers that came with being with you but he would rather die fighting for you than to do nothing at all. 

Vampires had a long history of hunting werewolves. They were the only creature that could rival their speed and strength. It was a sport, a display of dominance, to show that they were the apex predator. Treaties were signed but broken, territories marked, and warnings sent. Vampires and werewolves had learned that the best way to keep the peace was to stay far apart from one another. Most city vampires were progressive, they partied with elves, drank with werewolves, and got high off pixie dust. They mingled across species, but such alliances were frowned upon by the more traditional clans. Any love across species was seen as a betrayal, deserving of the fiercest punishment—blood spilled in the name of ancient grudges. You could be branded a traitor just for showing kindness to a werewolf.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, and you won’t let anything happen to me. We were together when I was human, and that was probably more dangerous,” he pointed out.

“I know, and I was selfish,” you admitted.

“Well, now it’s my turn to be selfish. Just let me see you,” he said earnestly.

“This is not a good idea,” you warned, but his pleading gaze softened your resolve.

He must have sensed your wavering will, as he pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. “Please,” he begged.

“Fine,” you said with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Just as he was about to celebrate and pull you into another kiss, you raised a finger to his lips. “But that doesn’t mean we’re dating! And the moment your pack finds out about this…” You gestured between the two of you with your free hand, “whatever this is, it’s done.”

“Deal,” he mumbled against your finger before you pulled it away.

You turned to walk away, glancing back over your shoulder before disappearing behind the trees. Haechan stood there, wearing the dopiest smile you had ever seen. “Stop looking at my ass, Haechan. Go home!” you shouted.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You and Haechan had been stealing moments together ever since that night. You found eachother in the dark corners of clubs, had picnics on abandoned rooftops under the moon, and shared intimate conversations beneath the ancient canopy of trees in the depths of the forest

Tonight you texted Haechan to meet you at an abandoned amusement park in the next city over. It took a few hours to run there, but you loved the freedom of it—being stuck in a car always felt so suffocating.  When you arrived you settled into one of the old, rusted teacups.  You heard rustling from the trees behind you and Haechan emerged in his wolf form, a backpack clamped between his teeth. When he shifted back to his human form, you instinctively looked away. The brief glimpse of his bare skin sent your mind racing with thoughts that definitely crossed the line of friendship. You reminded yourself for the hundredth time that you were just friends and friends don’t think about their friends like that. The sound of him unzipping his backpack and rummaging through clothes broke your train of thought as he started getting dressed.

“You can turn around now, darling,” he said, his voice teasing.

You hopped out of the teacup and ran right into him, relief washing over you. You’d missed him so much, and honestly, you didn’t even care that he smelled like a puppy—you buried your face in his neck.

“Hey hey, watch those teeth,” he joked.

You pulled away and playfully shoved him. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How have you been?”

“Terrible. We took in a stray recently,” he replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. “His name’s Jisung. We found him while traveling. Total troublemaker, so they dumped him on me. Ugh, he’s been giving me a headache! I was lucky to sneak away tonight.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” you said, your voice playful as you both started to walk deeper into the amusement park. 

“No way! I was not like that! He’s just so moody sometimes, such a teenager,” Haechan replied, shaking his head.

“I forgot, you had a valid reason for being so angsty.”

“Yeah, she’s standing right in front of me,” he said, then playfully tickled your sides, making you giggle.

You and Haechan were in a good place now, able to joke about the past without any hard feelings. You cherished these moments together and loved being with him.

“How did you find this place anyway?” he asked as you passed a distorted funhouse, a shiver running down his spine. “It’s creepy.”

“Is my puppy scared?” you mocked.

“I’m not scared!” he insisted with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You skipped a few steps ahead before turning around to face him. “Oh yeah? And what if I just left you right here?”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Very funny, but I’m faster than you now.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged.

“Yeah.” He says confidently. 

“Race you to the top of the Ferris wheel then!” you exclaimed and took off.

You sprinted toward the Ferris wheel on the other side of the park, Haechan hot on your heels. As you dashed past a few booths, you grabbed some old, soggy plushies and hurled them at him.

“That’s so gross!” he yelled, dodging them with ease.

Determined to leave him in the dust, you picked up speed. You leaped over old concession carts and swung through the spider ride, with its twisting central column and spinning arms. With a laugh, you propelled yourself off its arms, feeling the rush of adrenaline. Haechan dropped down onto the car behind you before launching himself off to chase you.

“Catch up, slowpoke!” you called, glancing back as the Ferris wheel loomed closer.

Tension built in your legs, and you sprang forward, grabbing one of the metal bars of the ride and climbing higher. It was massive, and when you looked down, you were surprised to see Haechan close behind, springing off each bar with the agility of a cat. You swung from bar to bar, pulling yourself up and up. There was a car waiting at the top, and that was your goal.

As you climbed, you glanced down to gauge how far Haechan was, but he was suddenly nowhere to be seen. You froze for a moment, scanning the ride. 

Your breath caught—though you didn't technically need to breathe, the habit was hard to shake. From this height, he could’ve easily fallen and gotten hurt. Werewolves were resilient, but they weren't immortal. They could almost live forever with how slowly they aged, as long as they weren’t mortally wounded. 

“HAECHAN!” you called out worriedly. “THIS ISN'T FUNNY! WHERE ARE YOU?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the night.

Just then, a laugh rang out. “Who’s scared now?” He called down to you from the passenger car at the very top.

A wave of relief washed over you. In no time, you reached the top and stood on the outerrail of the car while he lounged in the seat. The sides of the car weren't enclosed, allowing you to lean in and meet his gaze with a glare. “I thought you fell!” You grumbled.

“Sorry, babe. Couldn't let you win,” he said, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down.”

You ambled into the car and sat down across from him. “Don’t be mad,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come sit by me.”

You uncrossed your arms, giving up the act; it had been too long since you last saw him. You slid over, the seat snug but cozy enough for both of you. It was probably intended for moments like this—everyone knew that when you reached the top of the Ferris wheel you were supposed to kiss.

He nudged you playfully, and you met his gaze. “I was counting down the days until I saw you again,” he confessed softly.

You returned his smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “I missed you too.” He took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, his lips lingering longer than necessary before he pulled away.

He intertwined your fingers and looked up to the night sky. “You can see The Great Bear from here,” he remarked.

Following his gaze, you noted how Ursa Major shone brightly against the dark canvas of the sky. “Have I ever told you the story behind that constellation?” you asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he shook his head.

With a grin, you turned to him, relishing the moment. “In Greek mythology, Zeus once fell in love with a nymph named Callisto. When his wife Hera found out, she turned her into a bear.”

“Sounds like something you would do,” Haechan snickered.

“Except I would turn you into the bear,” you elbowed him playfully.

“Oww!” he laughed, rubbing his side dramatically.

A comfortable silence settled around you as you enjoyed each other’s company. Leaning against him, you closed your eyes, letting the peaceful moment wash over you.

“I love you,” he whispered, a soft vulnerability in his voice. Sitting up, you looked at him, his expression revealing that he was about to say something that he shouldn’t. You could see the longing in his eyes, how he yearned for you. He still wanted more.

Before he could voice his feelings, before he could reopen the wounds you both had worked so hard to heal, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was electric, you knew you couldn’t say it out loud so you put all your love and heartache into the kiss.

His hands held the sides of your face firmly, anchoring you in place as he refused to let you pull away. With a fervor you had almost forgotten, he deepened the kiss, a low moan escaping him as your tongues danced together. It was a sound so full of desire it sent heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn't help the slickness that dripped into your underwear.

You found yourself whining into his mouth, and the low growl that rumbled from his chest only encouraged you further. You fought to maintain control, willing your hands to stay in your lap. You knew the moment you touched him you wouldn’t let him go. 

His fingers found their way to your waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your hands scramble to grip onto the rail behind him. The car swayed wildly with the motion of your bodies. A part of you tried to speak, to remind him that this was dangerous but he only pulled you back into the searing kiss in response. You didn’t complain when he started grinding you down against him, you had forgotten how well you fit together. You could feel his hard length pressed against you, and the realization made your head swim. You hadn't been touched like this in what felt like an eternity, and the sensation was overwhelming.

His hands began to roam your body, mapping out every curve. When he cupped your breast, a soft moan escaped your lips making him shudder. The world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was the way his hands trailed down your waist, gripping your ass possessively. The way his hips began to thrust up in desperation had you seeing stars. He held you there, utterly lost in the way you felt pressed against him. You gripped the railing tighter, your fingers bending the metal beneath your grasp. You had to stay in control.

You managed to whisper a single word against his lips, "fuck." His hand had trailed under your shirt, sending shivers of delight down your spine. But as much as you wanted to continue, the way the passenger cart was creaking was starting to worry you. You pulled away, using your strength to push his chest. You had him pinned, his back against the seat. For a fleeting moment, his eyes flashed a deeper shade of red, a hint of a growl forming on his lips, raw desire evident in his gaze.

You stood your ground, a playful smirk on your face. "Down, boy," you said with a raised eyebrow.

"This thing is old, it's too dangerous to stay up here. Come on, we need to get down," you said firmly, the reality of the situation snapping him back to attention.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he replied, trying to mask his frustration with a hint of amusement. 

You sit still in haechans lap until the cart stops moving. When the cart slowly ceased its swaying you sighed in relief, grateful that the groaning of the rusted cart had silenced. However, just as you began to relax, a sudden crash startled you—the door fell off its hinges, clattering loudly as it hit everything in its path on its way down to the ground.

You jumped at the sound, heart racing, and exchanged a panicked look with Haechan. The spell of the previous excitement diminished, and you both burst into laughter.

“See what I mean?” he said. “This place is a death trap!”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of thrilling, don’t you think? A little dangerous excitement?” 

"You're crazy," he teased, helping you off his lap as you two made your way down.

“You loved every second of it.” 

You made it to the ground safely, and as you turned to Haechan, curiosity etched on your face, "Hey, have you presented yet?" you asked. As a golden-eyed wolf, Haechan held a neutral status, but it was possible for his eye color to shift to either red or blue once he presented - red for an alpha, blue for an omega.

He looked at you with a questioning expression, "No, why?" he asked.

You teased, "No reason, I just thought it would be cute if your eyes matched mine."

“Ah, like a couple's item,” he said, a grin breaking across his face.

“More like a friendship bracelet,” you corrected.

“Or like matching wedding rings,” he countered, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Like matching t-shirts,” you playfully curved him again.

His expression shifted slightly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You want me to be your alpha, is that it? Want me to dominate you?” His words hung in the air, full of just the right amount of flirtation.

You knew he was joking, but the way he said it stirred something deep within you. 

Desperate to regain your composure, you shot him a playful glare, trying to mask your reaction. "Very funny, Haechan," you replied, rolling your eyes, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. The tension between you was thick, a swirl of playful teasing and underlying desire, and you both seemed acutely aware of it.

“Just imagine it,” he continued, leaning closer with mock seriousness. “Matched for life. You, me, and our golden-eyed offspring.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming.” Even though you tried to shake off the feeling, you could sense your face getting hot. 

 Noticing your reaction, Haechan's eyes crinkled at the corners, and he looked at you with a pleased smile. “Oh? You like that idea, huh.” He teases.

You stalked off, leaving him to follow beside you with a knowing smirk. "Shut up or I will kill you," you threatened, trying to mask your emotions.

"That's against the rules, you know that, babe," he tuts.  "Besides, I'd like to see you try. You vampires aren't so scary, you know."

"Another challenge? You don't get sick of losing, do you?"

"I won the first one," he shot back, a flicker of pride in his voice.

"I let you win," you replied.

A fire ignited behind his eyes. "You did not let me win."

"If that's what helps you sleep at night," you teased, pushing all the right buttons to rile him up. He was super competitive so it was easy.

He leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. "Okay, fine, you wanna play like that? I got a game for you. We have a few more hours before sunrise. You down?" The devilish smile on his face was one you knew better than to trust.

"Depends on what it is," you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

"You think you’re faster and stronger than me, so let's put it to the test," he proposed, his grin broadening. "If I manage to rip your shirt off, I win. If you can evade me for a full hour, you win. Like that running man show we always watched." 

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "What the hell? You just want to take my shirt off!" you argued.

"Then you better not let me catch you," he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the challenge that sparked within you. "Fine, it will be fun knocking you down a few pegs anyway." 

He gave you a minute head start, and without hesitation, you took off, the ground fading beneath your feet as you covered hundreds of yards in no time. The scent of pine and damp earth filled your senses, and with every stride, you pushed yourself to create as much distance as possible.

But even with your impressive speed, you knew you couldn’t hide your scent from him; the bloodhound instincts of a wolf would always lead him straight to you. You would have to rely on your speed if you wanted to win, there was no point in hiding. You listened intently to the sounds of the night, and soon enough, the heavy gait of Haechan, now in his wolf form, reached your ears. He was fast, closing the gap between you with each passing second. You continue running. You fly through the trees, running, jumping and swinging between the branches. You propelled yourself farther and farther, you had been running at full speed for 30 minutes just to keep him off your heels and it was starting to annoy you how easily he was able to keep up. You had 30 more minutes and you were sick of running. You had to outsmart him if you wanted to win.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you decided to lead him to the place where you knew you could gain the upper hand: the fun house. You had been there before, giggling and disoriented off pixie dust during a fairy rave.You got trapped in the funhouse for hours. 

You circled back, running until you were back at the amusement park. The giant tattered circus tent of the fun house comes into view and you look behind your shoulder to make sure Haechan was following. He was close, a few yards back. 

As you rounded the corner into the funhouse, you felt a surge of confidence. With your last burst of energy, you darted through the maze of mirrors, instinctively weaving and dodging obstacles while leaving your scent against every reflective surface. The idea was solid; if you covered the place with your scent, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint where you were. You hid at the end and waited.

A soft growl echoed through the maze, and the sound of Haechan's frustration made you suppress a giggle. When he entered the mirror maze, it was as if the walls began to close around him, reflecting his struggling figure infinitely. You could hear him bumping into the mirrored walls and howling in annoyance. He's about half way through when he gives up and decides he wants to go back before he realizes he can't. He's too deep inside now and he's stuck. 

“Stuck already, big bad wolf?” you thought, grinning to yourself.

He lets out a howl when he bumps into another mirror. You have to hold in your laughter. Time began to slip away, and after about twenty minutes of him navigating the maze, he finally broke through to the exit. 

When he finds you waiting at the exit he speeds towards you. You curse under your breath, you only had a few minutes left now but you couldn't outrun him. You're able to get back to the forest, hoping the natural obstacles of trees and bushes might buy you the time you need but it doesn't. 

He charged at you, and with a yelp, he tackled you to the ground. You laughed uncontrollably when he shifted back to human, completely naked and utterly unbothered by his state.

The forest floor was cool beneath your back, the damp moss pressing into your skin as you struggled against him. It was chaos, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, one moment he was on top, and the next, you had somehow reversed your positions. The thrill of victory rushed through you as you caught his hands, using your strength to roll him onto his back while you straddle his waist.

A triumphant smile spread across your face as you taunted him, “Give it up. Only a minute left.”

His lips curled into a sly smirk, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “I’m letting you win,” he insisted, echoing your earlier words with a gleam of defiance in his eyes. 

You leaned down, your hair brushing against his cheeks as you whispered in his ear, “Oh, is that why you’re under me? What happened to dominating me?”

 His gaze flickered, a flash of something feral erupting within their depths. Before you could react, he was moving—too fast, too strong. In an instant, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. The other tore at your shirt, you gasped as he ripped your shirt from your body.

“Not so tough now are you?” he says, his smirk widening.  But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes as they roam down to your chest. “Looks like I win.” His voice drifts away, leaving a thick silence between you. 

You lie beneath him in the tatters of your shirt, your bra and a pair of low-rise skinny jeans. You can’t help but notice how hard he’s becoming against you. Your gaze trails over his exposed skin and lingering on the hard lines of his muscles until they reach his length. You bite your lip at how red the tip of his dick was. 

“I guess you did win,” you breathe out, your voice heavy with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the raw effort it takes for him to hold himself back. “But I think a victory like this deserves a prize.”

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and demanding, stealing the air from your lungs. You moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body against yours. Twigs and leaves tangle in your hair but you didn’t care. You needed him—needed this—more than anything. He broke the kiss abruptly to undress you, his lips trailing down your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone before sinking in just enough to make you gasp. A shiver ran down your spine as his claws pricked at your skin, trailing down your side before retracting, leaving only the warmth of his palm groping your breast roughly.

“Haechan,” you whimpered, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

He breathed you in deeply. “I could smell you,” he murmured, his voice raspy. “The moment you saw me, I could smell how much you wanted me. But you always want to play the good girl, don’t you? The rule-follower.” His lips found your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe as he added, “Want to act like you don’t like me… but look at you now.”

You whined again, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, kissing, licking, biting—claiming every inch of your body as his. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t want him to be. His tongue traced the curve of your breast, sucking and teasing until you were writhing beneath him, begging for more.

He trails his kisses down your body until his head is between your thighs. He lifts your legs over his shoulders and got comfortable. You see it for certain this time, his eyes glow crimson. His gaze stays locked on you the entire time as he works his tongue between your folds, collecting your slick and slurping noisily on your juices. He sucks ruthlessly at your clit and you're no match for his strength when you try to close your legs around his head. His claws dig into the skin of your thighs as he holds you open. His tongue is so slick and he's basically drooling as he devours you. The entire lower half of his face is soaked. You throw your head back in pleasure and claw at the ground beside you. 

“Yes Haechan!” You moaned as your hips kicked up and grind against his tongue. You chase your release unashamed. 

You were always weak to his touch but there was something about him now that just made you want to submit to his every order. 

When he sat up, plunging two fingers deep inside you, you rode your high out on his fingers, your legs trembling with the force of your release. You lay there, spent and shuddering. Your legs are shaking pathetically when he sits up. The moon behind him shines its light down on him. He obscures the view enough for it to look like a halo above his head. 

The red in his eyes is nothing but devilish as he licks his lips. “Turn over.” He commands. 

You didn’t hesitate, rolling onto your hands and knees as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, claws pricking at your skin as he pulled you back against him. 

He was everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, your hair, your throat—filling you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Each thrust was punishing, driving the air from your lungs and drawing a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. You were certain he would have broken you if you were human.

This was exactly what you had needed. You liked it rough, and in the past, while Haechan did his best to indulge you, he was afraid of hurting you. He didn't know you were a vampire; he didn’t know you could take it.

You could feel the same doubt begin to cloud his judgment as his touch became lighter and his thrusts shallower as he noticed just how rough he had been. In a sudden surge of frustration, you whipped your head back, baring your fangs to make it unmistakably clear what you were and what you could handle. “Do I need to remind you of what I am?” you hissed, your voice low and thick with desire. “Don’t hold back.”

The last remnants of his control snap, and he thrusts into you roughly. A heavy hand pushes your skull down into the damp moss while the other maintains the perfect arch in your back, elevating your hips as he fucks into you. Your eyes roll back, lost in pleasure as he mounts you, his hips snapping relentlessly against you over and over again.

His grip tightens, pulling you back to meet each primal thrust. He was treating you like a rag doll, and you loved every minute of it. It hurt good, the pain reminding you of what it felt like to be alive. 

With a fierce handful of your hair, he pulls you up, leaning down to press hot, wet kisses against the side of your mouth. His grip moves from your hair to your neck, his fingers constricting around your throat choking you. You smile up at him, your expression wild and hungry as he takes you. 

He was so deep, you could feel the delicious ache of him inside you, as if he were going to tear you apart. You haven't been to recharge so you know that the marks he left wouldn’t fade immediately. You wanted to admire the bruises on your skin for days, to remember him long after he had pulled away.

You don’t think there’s a single coherent thought behind his eyes, just a primal urge to stuff you full. He’s mumbling into your shoulder, biting the skin there before sinking his teeth in, and you whine, clenching down hard around him. His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he releases deep inside you, his body seemingly on autopilot, his hips continuing to thrust rhythmically as if driven by instinct. He pushes deeper and deeper, fucking you until the mixture of your combined release seeps out around his thick cock. With a violent shudder, you cum so hard your cunt pushes him out momentarily but he’s back inside you in seconds, helping you ride your high.

“Stupid puppy, fucked himself dumb?” you tease with a smile.

He's too far gone to register your insult. He pulls out, flipping you onto your side, sliding himself in between your legs, straddling one while throwing the other over his shoulder. He grips your thigh tightly and fucks into you again, still impossibly hard. You could never get enough of him. He hugs your leg as he thrusts, and you reach down, circling your clit, the pressure building again as his breath comes out in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good. I don’t think I can stop. Please, don’t make me stop,” he whines, the desperation in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You pull him down to connect your lips. The kiss is raw and hungry, filled with teeth as you try to kiss him but every thrust that jolts your body upward makes it difficult. You could feel yourself growing closer and you cum again, soaking his length even more. He follows soon after, burying himself deep within you as he releases his hot cum, his body twitching with the force of his release.

Hours slip by in the haze of pleasure, the sun beginning to rise by the time he finally pulls out. He’s out cold, and the fangs and claws that once decorated him are nowhere to be seen; he looks entirely human now, vulnerable and peaceful.

Whatever power he had, he’s completely drained himself of it. You’re spent too, but you gather just enough strength to stand. The sun is creeping higher and you have to get home before it fully rises, or you risk losing the last remnants of energy you have left to make the run. You consider waking him to say goodbye but he looks too peaceful. You prayed he would understand your reasoning.

Ultimately, you slip away, making it home just before the sun breaks the horizon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The past couple of weeks have left you feeling rejuvenated, like there’s a hidden spring in your step that wasn’t there before. Sooyoung, your ever-observant best friend, quickly pieces things together. You haven't mentioned your encounter with Haechan at the amusement park yet—mostly because you know she would freak out and bombard you with a million questions. Honestly, you didn’t need your best friend knowing just how much of a slut you were for your self-proclaimed mortal enemy.

Sooyoung's knowing smile has been ever-present, and you glare at her from across the couch while she takes a sip from her coffee mug. “What?” you ask, feigning annoyance.

“Nothing. Nothing,” she replies, her eyes flickering back to the movie, but you can sense her amusement. A few moments pass, and, unable to contain her excitement, her gaze shifts back to you, her smile widening. 

“Okay, seriously, what is it?” you exclaim, shoving her playfully.

Sooyoung shrugs, taking a long sip before speaking. “That’s a nice mark you’ve got there on your shoulder. Who’d you get that from?” she asks pointedly.

Your expression falters as you realize that your shirt has slid off your shoulder, revealing the bruise he left behind, the one you had tried to cover with makeup. You curse under your breath.

“No need to be ashamed, girl. I knew the day was coming sooner or later!” she laughs. “But if you think you’re leaving without telling me what happened, you’re high off pixie dust.”

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through. Before you know it, you’re giggling and screaming, overwhelmed with excitement. Sooyoung smacks you lightly on the arm, her own laughter ringing out. “No way, tell me! He got you kicking your feet like that?”

You spill everything that happened and by the end of it, Sooyoung is standing up from the couch. “We need to go out! He broke your dry spell, this calls for a celebration!”

You playfully smack her on the butt as she turns toward the remote to switch off the TV. “Shut up,” you laugh.

You can hear the bass thumping even before you step into the old, abandoned church. City vampires know how to throw the best raves, and you’re not surprised to see half of the city’s paranormal packed inside. 

Sooyoung drops her cloak, her wings unfurling gracefully across her back as she shrinks down a few sizes. At parties like this, no one bothers to cloak. Within the weathered walls of the church, every supernatural creature is free to shed their human facades and embrace their true forms. You allow your eyes to gleam a deep crimson, fangs brushing your bottom lip as you lose yourself to the pulsating rhythm of the music. 

Hours slip by before you even realize it. The music here is enchanted—not so overwhelming that it would keep you dancing to the brink of exhaustion, but just enough to carry good vibes throughout the crowd. It also amplifies the high from the pixie dust, ensuring that everyone who joins in the dance has a good trip.

“I'm gonna go find a pixie! Want to come?” Sooyoung asks over the pulsating beats.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, waving her off. She nods and heads off into the crowd while you make your way out back to get some fresh air.

Stepping outside, you spot a few couples making out against the building while others drift in quiet conversation. One familiar figure catches your eye. Jeno was leaning against a tree smiling at something on his phone.

Curiosity piqued, you walked up to him. “What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Looking after my pack. Why are you bothering me?” he replies, not bothering to look up.

“Just making small talk, you infuriating mutt,” you roll your eyes.

“Your boyfriend’s also a mutt, so how’s that make you feel?” He shoots back.

You glare at him, feeling a pang of irritation. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” you snap, afraid the wrong crowd might overhear.

“Right, that’s too bad,” he smirks, finally looking at you.

“And why is that?” you grit your teeth.

“You didn’t know? He presented. He’ll be going into rutt soon and he’s gonna need a mate if he wants to survive it.”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to ask what he presented as, it was obvious.

“You know, my dad’s been trying to find someone compatible with him.” Jeno says, an edge of satisfaction in his tone.

“And that’s probably going as well as it did for you,” you shot back. “Your sorry self is still alone. What, are you jealous that you'll have to jerk it solo during your rutt?” Venom laced your words.

Jeno’s smile grows wider, and he knows he's hit a nerve. “Don’t be too sad when he stops coming around. I warned you,” he says, shoulder checking you and heading back into the party.

You felt sick. If what jeno said was true Haechan would be looking for a mate to satisfy his rutt. Just like that your world crashes down around you. You go back inside and look for Sooyoung. When you finally locate her, it’s in the storage room, where she’s wrapped up in a makeout session with Renjun, a pixie you recognize as her casual fling.

“We need to go,” you insist, cutting right through their moment.

Renjun pressed a lingering kiss to her neck as she glanced past him at you, surprise flickering across her face. “Aww, but it was just getting fun,” she pouted.

“Well, I’m heading home,” you state flatly. “I don’t feel good.” Without waiting for her to pull herself from Renjun's embrace, you race home

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had been days since you heard from Haechan; he wasn’t answering your texts or returning your calls. It was rare for him to be home anymore, so you weren’t surprised to find his place empty when you went to check on him. Had his rutt already begun? You cringed at the thought and quickly shook it from your mind. If he were in rutt, they would have found him someone to lay with by now.

You realized that constantly thinking about him was driving you crazy. You needed a distraction. You left your home and headed to the library, but all you could think about were those late nights helping him study within those four walls. You decided to visit Sooyoung, hoping she could take your mind off things, but  she had taken too much pixie dust at the last party and was still coming down from the high. 

There was only one place you knew where you could silence your thoughts. You needed to recharge. Maybe if you slept long enough, you could forget about what Jeno had told you, maybe even forget about Haechan.

It wasn’t until you reached the cemetery that you realized tonight was a full moon. If Haechan had truly gone into rutt, it would officially begin tonight. A wave of bloodlust washed over you as tormenting images of Haechan with someone else flooded your mind. Maybe he was right; perhaps you and Hera did share some traits after all.

You could become deadly when you were jealous.

You locked yourself in your coffin, fighting the urge to storm into werewolf territory and tear them all apart. They weren’t the only ones who became stronger under a full moon.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The lid of your casket slid open, and when you locked eyes with the person who dared to interrupt your sleep, a primal urge to rip his throat out surged through you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey, wait!” Mark shouted, jumping back several feet. You rose from your coffin, the scent surrounding you immediately igniting a rage.

The last thing you wanted to smell upon waking up was mutt.

“What the hell are you doing in my territory?” you snapped, your voice icy cold. “This breaks the treaty, and I have free rein to murder all of you.”

You scanned the graveyard, spotting Ten, Johnny, and Yangyang standing several yards away. Jeno and Jaehyun were closer, but not close enough to be within your reach, unlike Mark—who was either brave or incredibly stupid for waking you.

“Guys, I told you this was a bad idea,” Mark whined.

“She likes you the most; she would have killed me already if I'd woken her up,” Jeno replied, arms crossed.

“You have five seconds to explain what’s going on before I use your hide to make myself a coat,” you threatened, your patience wearing thin.

“It’s Haechan! He needs you!” Mark exclaimed, hands raised defensively.

You dropped your guard. “What? What happened?” You asked, stalking closer and gripping him by the front of his shirt.

“He’s in rutt. We tried to find him a partner to help him through it, but he refused. He’s getting more and more agitated as the days pass, and usually, the rutt would be dying down by now, but it isn’t,” Mark huffed, worry etched on his face as he recalled the events.

That idiot—what did he think he was doing?

“Dad thinks he’ll drive himself insane if he keeps refusing his urges,” Jeno butts in.

“How long has he been like that?” you demanded.

“Three days,” Jaehyun spoke up. “As much as we don’t like it, he’s our brother, and we can’t lose him. You need to go to him.”

“You waited three days to find me?” you yelled, incredulous.

“We thought he would break eventually, but now he just becomes aggressive if an omega tries to come near him,” Johnny explained, cautiously stepping closer now that he was certain you wouldn’t try to kill anyone.

“Well, let’s go,” you said, preparing to run off, until Jeno stepped in front of you. “If you like your head being on your shoulders, I’d move.” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? If he hurts you, he’ll never forgive us for bringing you to him in this condition,” Jeno continued, his concern evident.

You flashed him a confident smile. “Fully charged.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

This time, when you crossed into werewolf territory, the atmosphere was far less hostile. Jeno and Jaehyun led the way and eventually brought you into a secluded room where a heavy door stood, carved with symbols that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. You could feel the whispers of magic, familiar and foreign all at once. To the side, a hidden passageway led down a narrow set of stairs, the faint echo of your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls as you descended.

“You’ve been keeping him locked up underground?” you questioned, a wave of memories from your past life flashing before your eyes. 

“This is where we all go during the first rut. It can be dangerous,” Jaehyun explained. “The same goes for newly turned werewolves. If they can’t find control, the only way to keep everyone safe is to let them weather the storm down here.”

You finally reached a door at the end of the hallway. Jaehyun paused, the concern etched on his face deepening. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re asking,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Well, we’ll be out here if you need us. Just yell,” Jeno said. He handed you a key, it's cold metal feeling heavy in your palm.

The door loomed before you, heavy and imposing, its surface cool to the touch as you reached for the handle. You stepped into the room, and your heart sank at the sight of Haechan. He was lying on the bed, shackled to the floor, but the chains were long enough to allow him some space to move around. 

His red eyes snapped to you the moment you entered, studying your figure in the middle of the room. He was barely dressed, clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, and the covers beneath him were shredded to pieces. The remnants of furniture lay scattered around, completely demolished, and the walls bore deep, angry scars. Some looked like old wounds, while others appeared fresh, no doubt done by Haechan.

A sheen of sweat coated his tan skin, his hair matted to his forehead. Before you could process it, he was in front of you, moving faster than you’d ever seen him. If you had been any closer, he might have reached out to grab you. He thrashed against his restraints, hands straining towards you in desperation.

You weren’t afraid; there was no hesitation as you stepped into his embrace.

He pulls you close against his chest, his grip possessive and strong. He was burning like a furnace against you. “I missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. “I’ve been waiting, holding on for you.” You can feel his arousal pressing stiff against your stomach. Your body reacts immediately to him, your nipples harden and you can feel yourself getting wet.

“It’s okay, let go,” you reassure him, using the key Jeno had given you earlier to unbind him. “I trust you.”

As the last of his shackles clatter to the floor, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he slams you against the nearest wall. He bites your lip before he rips your shirt down the middle, pulling away just enough to attach his mouth to one of your breasts, his other hand eagerly exploring your body. He humps at your leg pathetically, dragging his cock over the rough fabric of your jeans.

You fumble with your pants, realizing too late that you should have chosen something with easier access. His patience wears thin, and with a flash of claws, he impatiently rips the crotch from your jeans. The cold air immediately hits your wet core, and Haechan inhales deeply. He drops to his knees in seconds, shoving his nose deep in your cunt, he wanted to drown in your scent.

“Haechan,” you gasp, instinctively pushing his head away.

One of his hands grips both your wrists tightly, pinning them against your lower stomach as he leans in closer, inhaling your scent like it’s the sweetest perfume. You glance down to find him stroking himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He buries his face deeper, forcing his tongue between your legs. You can feel the tip of his tongue prod at the tight rim of your asshole. Heat rushes to your face as you try to close your thighs, but he pulls back only to bite your thigh in warning.

“Don’t fight me. You’re going to lose,” he huffs.

You shiver at his command, surrendering as you throw a leg over his shoulder. He instantly resets his focus, lapping at you while moaning in appreciation. 

“God,” he exhales, the muscles in his arms straining as he grips himself tighter, strokes growing rough and desperate. His eyes screw shut in frustration. “Not enough, I need you.” 

He manhandles you, turning you to face the wall and pressing you firmly against it. Your jeans cling uncomfortably to your skin as he grips your hips tightly. In one deep thrust, he’s inside you, and it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. He feels different from before—thicker—and you can’t help but rise onto your tiptoes with every deep thrust. You brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the surface.

“You don’t know how bad I wished you were here. I needed you,” he grunts. His thrusts grow more aggressive. “Where the hell were you? Huh?” His grip tightens in your hair, forcing you to look back at him.

You whimper, brain fogging as he stretches you open. “I’m here, Haechan. I’ll always be right here.

You feel the familiar heat building within you, and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. “That’s right, baby. Give it to me.”

You come hard and he pulls out, dropping to his knees to lick deep inside you as he ate you out from the back. He wanted to taste every last drop of you and you would let him suck you dry.

You don't realize he's thrown you on the bed until you're staring at the ceiling, the tattered sheets beneath you. He crawls towards you, like a predator about to catch his prey. Gripping your ankle, he pulls you closer, ripping your pants off.  When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on his lips. 

He sinks back into you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against him, your nails raking down his chest as he takes you. 

“Mmh fuck.” He whines.

His mouth drops open in pleasure and you can tell he appreciates the way your pussy grips him. He looks like hes on cloud nine as he fucks you into the bed. You were exactly what he had been needing these past few days. You grip the hair at the back of his nape and pull. He moans breathlessly and his next thrust is so sharp it knocks you up the bed a few inches.

“Alpha,” you moan.

He grips your thighs, pressing them against your chest, holding you in place as he ravages you. The sound of the bed creaking fills the room with each thrust, the headboard connecting rhythmically with the wall. He doesn’t relent, his hand gripping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. “Say it again.”

“Alpha!” you scream as he abuses your cunt. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, capturing your lips in a quick messy kiss. “Say it.”

“I'm yours, only yours.”

As he releases his grip on your face, he pulls your hair, making you watch as he thrusts between your legs. “Look at how you take me. So fucking beautiful.” He growls.

He quickened his pace, raw and desperate, and the bed shakes beneath you.

“Shit” you scream.  You dig your nails into his shoulder and take it. You cling to him, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure builds low in your belly. His lips find yours again, silencing your moans as he fucks you with an intensity that borders on pain. But it’s perfect—it’s everything you both needed.

You don't even get the chance to warn him when you come around him, clamping down impossibly tight. He fucks you into the mattress, unable to hold back and the bed shakes so forcefully it gives out under you, collapsing to the ground with a loud creak. He doesn’t look up, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t care.

He buries his face into your neck and chants your name. You could feel him swelling inside of you and he bites down hard onto your shoulder hips stilling as he spills into you. 

He rolls you on top of him but stays buried inside of you. Knotting you to make sure not a drop of his cum spills out. You take a look around the room, your shredded clothes lay haphazardly on the ground and the bed lies in splinters below you. You laugh breathlessly before snuggling closer to him.

“I'm sorry I was so late,” you say. “When they told me you were in rutt I thought you would take someone else.”

“Never. You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want.”

You smile, tracing patterns on his chest. “Good. Because I’m not sharing.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. He looks at peace, his eyes no longer clouded with desperation.

A loud knock echoes through the room.

“Haechan!” Jeno’s voice calls from outside the door. “If you're back to normal We need to talk. Now.”

Your body stiffens at his voice. You had forgotten they were out there.

You feel Haechan’s body stiffen as well, his grip on you tightening. “What is it?” he barks, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“It’s serious. Dad found out about her being here. He’s ordered everyone to the meeting hall… including her.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It isn’t until much later that you and Haechan muster the energy to finally roll out of the bed, or what’s left of it. You find yourself dressed in his clothes, feeling a little shy. The walk to the meeting hall is quiet, but Haechan’s hand remains firmly intertwined with yours, offering a sense of strength and support.

At the head of the room stands jeno’s father, the pack leader.

 His eyes shift from Haechan to you, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. You had assumed it was his orders that brought you here, but maybe not.

“You,” he says, his voice low and measured. “Come closer.”

Hesitant, you move forward, Haechan’s hand reluctantly releasing yours. The alpha steps down from his platform, circling you slowly. 

“Do you know,” he begins, stopping in front of you, “how rare it is for a werewolf in rutt to resist an omega’s scent? Even more so for three days?” His tone isn’t accusatory, it’s almost… impressed.

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond. “I… I didn’t realize…”

“And yet,” he continues, ignoring your stammering, “he endured it. Refused every omega offered to him, tore himself apart fighting his instincts—for you.” He pauses, his gaze piercing. “Do you understand what that means?”

Your breath catches. 

“It means,” he says, his voice softening ever so slightly, “that you mean more to him than anything else. More than his instincts. More than his own survival.” He turns to Haechan, who’s standing rigidly nearby. “Isn’t that right, son?”

Haechan doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” His voice is steady, unwavering. “She’s mine. And I’m hers.”

The alpha stares at him for a long moment before nodding, almost imperceptibly. Then, he turns back to you. “If one of my sons is willing to endure hell for you, then I can see no reason to stand in the way of this bond. I give you both my blessing.”

The room erupts into murmurs, shock rippling through the pack. But the alpha silences them with a single raised hand. “Anyone who challenges this decision will answer to me directly.” His gaze sweeps across the room, daring anyone to speak against him. No one does.

Haechan steps forward.  “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

The alpha nods again, his expression unreadable. “Take care of her,” he directs towards Haechan before turning back to you. “And take care of yourself. If this is the path you choose, then make sure you’re strong enough to walk it.”

You nod at him, still in shock as haechan picks you up off the ground in a tight hug.

Mark and Ten approach, clapping Haechan on the back. “Guess you’re part of the pack now,” Ten teases you playfully.

Jeno steps forward too. “Don’t think just because my dad likes you that I do.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck. “It will be a cold day in hell before we’re friends.”

“Just ignore him,” Johnny says with a chuckle. “If the chief says so then you’re family. We’ve got your back whether he likes it or not.”

Jaehyun nods in agreement, a reassuring smile on his face. “If anyone tries to come between you two, you can rely on us.”

A smile blooms across your face. All the fear and worry you once carried begins to lift. You felt safe knowing they had your back.  Vampire or werewolf—let them come. You’re not fighting by yourself anymore. 

[flwrstqr]

愛 𓈒 THAT'S SO TRUE ✶ FAKE DATING ENHYPEN ╰—— 𝓲. ⸝⸝ 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅

❪ PROLOGUE. ❫ enhypen & f!r 1OOOwc. ❜ fake dating, fluff, head canons, oneshots ⎯⎯ being drunk skinship, petnames partying . . ADORE

다니 : after much contemplation.. i decided to post this. it's a slight remake of my old fake dating fic i made during the summer TT ++ jenni told me to post this one

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung’s hand rests on your waist, pulling you closer as you laugh at a joke neither of you are really paying attention to. his eyes, though, don’t leave you—not for a second. they roam over you shamelessly, lingering on the curve of your lips, the way your hair falls over your shoulder, the dip of your collarbone. “you’re really making this easy for me, baby,” he murmurs, voice low enough that only you can hear. the pet name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, like it’s meant to be there, like you’re meant to be there with him. you try to ignore the heat crawling up your neck, but he smirks, clearly noticing. “what?” you ask, trying to sound annoyed, but it only makes his grin widen. “nothing,” he says, eyes flickering to your lips. “just thinking how good you look tonight—for me, of course.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "okay, first tilt your head a little—no, not like that, jay, just... here," you mutter, guiding his chin with your fingers. he’s sitting on the couch, and you’re perched on his lap, knees tucked around him like this is the most normal thing in the world. “then, you hold the girl’s waist, like this.” his hands hover awkwardly before settling, a bit hesitant, on your hips. “now lean in, slowly,” you instruct. his lashes lower as he leans closer, “like this?” before you can answer, his lips brush yours, and you’re startled by how effortlessly good he is. your breath catches, hands gripping his shoulders for balance. when he pulls back, cheeks flushed, you blink at him, utterly speechless. “did i... do it right?” he asks, grinning shyly, and you hate how smug he looks now.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake sits cross-legged on the floor beside your couch, the plastic bag with the soup crinkling as he pulls it out, his brows furrowed with worry. "you look awful," he murmurs, but his voice is so gentle. you groan, tugging the blanket higher over your face, your cheeks burning—part fever, part embarrassment. "don’t look at me," you mumble, hiding the fact that this is the first time he’s seen you without makeup. but jake just pouts, his hand brushing your forehead to check your temperature. "how could i not look? you’re still my pretty girl," he says softly, and it’s almost enough to make you forget you’re supposed to be fake dating. his fingers linger at your temple as he pushes a stray hair back. he’s worried sick, but god, you’ve never felt so cared for.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon’s hand finds the small of your back as you stand by the snack table, his touch grounding despite the fact that your blood is boiling. the girl hasn’t stopped shamelessly giggling at his every word, her manicured hand brushing his arm like it’s hers to hold. "you’re glaring, sweetheart," he leans in, his voice low and teasing against your ear. your stomach flips at the pet name, but you refuse to let him see how much it affects you. "i’m not," you snap, crossing your arms, but his smirk only deepens. you swear sometimes you forget its some fake date. "jealousy looks cute on you," he whispers, stepping closer until his chest is almost flush against yours. "you’re imagining things," you mutter, refusing to meet his eyes.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “princess, you okay?” sunoo’s voice cuts through the awkward tension, his arm sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. you barely have time to answer before he turns to the guy who’s been laughing a little too loud at your jokes. “sorry, we have to go,” he adds sharply, smiling but not really. the guy steps back, startled, and sunoo’s grip tightens just enough for you to feel the heat of his jealousy. “don’t mind him,” you whisper, trying to diffuse it, but he’s already walking you away, jaw clenched. he stops suddenly, turning you to face him. “seriously, what was that?” his fingers brush against your cheek as his thumb lingers at your jaw. “you’re too good for them, you know that, right?”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 the room spins slightly, laughter and music blending into a hazy blur as you clutch jungwon’s arm, his steady warmth grounding you. “kiss me already,” you slur, voice low enough to get lost in the noise but just sharp enough to make him smirk. he tilts his head, eyes dancing with mischief, lips so close you can almost taste the unspoken answer. “hmm, be patient, babe,” he murmurs, voice like velvet, his hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer in a way that makes your breath hitch. his other hand grazes your cheek, thumb brushing over and it’s too convincing—how his lips ghost over yours but never quite meet. for a second, you forget it’s all fake, that he’s not really yours, and you wonder if he’s too good at this or if he just likes the way your eyes beg for him.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 you glare at riki as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his smirk infuriatingly smug. "can you not be so handsy?" you hiss, shoving at his chest. "relax, sweetheart," he teases, leaning in close, voice dripping with mock affection. "we’re supposed to look convincing." you scoff, crossing your arms, but his fingers lace through yours, a saccharine grin plastered on his face as he whispers, "smile, angel." you shoot him a glare instead. "don’t call me that," you mutter, but the warmth of his hand lingers, distracting. "aw, jealous much?" he quips, lips brushing your temple briefly—just for show, of course. your heart betrays you. "jealous? of you? keep dreaming, lover boy." his laugh is soft, teasing. "sure, darling. whatever helps you sleep at night." his grin is infuriating, and god, you hate him. almost.

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[froggiequarium]

747 words; some lads fluff of caleb praising u bc i deserve it (n so do u) :x

-

you trudge your way towards the kitchen, hunger evident after spending almost two hours reading and taking the first quiz of the semester, not even a week into the class.

seriously, what was up with that?

you let out a sigh when a voice rings you out of your thoughts.

"hey, pipsqueak!"

you're greeted by the familiar warm voice that makes any leftover tension in your shoulders ease almost instantly.

before you can respond, only being granted enough time to blink up at him, he speaks up again.

"finally droppin' in to say hi?"

you ignore his tease as you close the short distance, arms spreading to embrace him. he immediately welcomes you, one strong arm encircling your waist and easily pulling you towards his side, other hand preoccupied with the food cooking on the stove.

you nuzzle into the warmth of his side, breathing in his comforting scent, closing your eyes to bask in all that is him.

"m' hungry," you whine against the cloth of his shirt.

"is that all you see me as? your personal chef?"

"yes!" you answer playfully and all too quickly.

in the next second, you jolt, feeling a small slap against your ass.

"hey!"

he only laughs in amusement.

"so mean," you pout. "i was studying so hard, and i'm getting punished? how cruel..." you bury your face into his shirt, playfully sulking against him.

he hums, hand sliding up to your head as he pats your hair, other one using the tool in hand to stir the food in the pan.

"what, you want some praise or something?" he teases, not expecting an actual answer.

"yes," you answer maybe just a touch fast, looking up at him expectantly.

your honesty takes him by surprise for just a moment before a grin between teasing and loving crawls up his lips, setting the utensil down to reach over and turn the stove on low, hands now free to fully focus on you.

he looks down into your bright expectant eyes, all his attention on you, and you feel your heart race just a little bit faster in anticipation.

"you did so well, working so hard just a couple of days in," caleb coos at you, petting your head lovingly, nails lightly tracing at your scalp resembling a massage. he loves the way that satisfied grin creeps up your lips as you practically melt against him as you chase his touch, resembling a cat rubbing up against the affection its receiving from its owner.

his large hands slowly slide down the sides of your face before landing on your warm cheeks, almost engulfing them in his hold, squishing them just slightly and gently rubbing them.

"such a good girl, aren't you?"

the way your eyes slip shut and a sound akin to a pleased mewl escaping you as a response is something that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

even after all this time, you're still so cute to him.

"you must be hungry after working so hard, huh?"

you nod in response, hugging him closer, stealing his warmth almost trying to blanket yourself within it. as one of his hands slides down your back to rub gentle circles into it and the other one up to caress your head, you think you'll be able to fall asleep against him like this.

he chuckles warmly, feeling your body slump against him more and more with each passing minute, face buried into his chest. as much as he wants to stay like this, he doesn't want the freshly made lunch to go cold.

he slips his hand from its place on your back moving it to your shoulder, gently shaking you while the other pats your head twice, just slightly firmer than before. his voice comes out hushed in the gentle atmosphere that surrounds the both of you.

"hey, you don't want the food to get cold now, do you?"

you gently shake your head, and his hand— now flat on your head— moves it just enough to make you look back up at him, bleary eyes cracking open to meet his creased sunset ones.

"let me feed my smart baby and then we can nap together, yea? would you like that?"

"mhmm," you hum, giggling when you feel him maneuver your head to make you nod in agreement, almost not giving you a choice (not that you'd ever reject such an offer from caleb).

he smiles at your reaction, eyes dancing with mirth.

"you deserve this, after all. come on," he pats your head one more time, an obvious show of his affection for you for as long as you could remember.

"let's eat now, together."

just as it should be.

-

a/n: i just need some physical affection + some praise from him and i'll be easily fulfilled

-

[lieslab]

I'm stuck with a phobia

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Summary: You're struggling with your anxiety when your boyfriend comforts you.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 5.3K

Anxiety resources

Trigger warning: General anxiety, testing anxiety, anxiety surrounding hospitals and doctors/nurses, brief mention of insecurities, social anxiety, and over-stimulation.

A/N: To whoever requested this, you requested 3racha members specifically, but I didn't want to leave the other members out, so they're all here. Each scenario is different and most are based on different scenarios that can cause anxiety/anxiety attacks. Some of these are a little more serious than others, but I think you get the gist.

_ _ _

Chan: 

You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren’t in a constant state of anxiety. Anxiety always draped over your shoulders like a shawl you couldn't rip off. A suffocating scarf that grew tighter and tighter around your throat. 

Your heart bucked against your chest, a weak attempt at trying to dislodge from the anxiety in your body. It never worked. It tried and tried and tried, but your sternum was far too strong. 

Despite being there, you learned to live with it. You learned to try to ignore the heavy thumps and distract yourself with simplicities; anything to get away from the feeling of your soul being caged. Usually, you could distract yourself, but tonight was different. 

It uprooted from nowhere. A current of anxiety pulled you into the depths of your head and suddenly, still half-asleep in the middle of the night, the what-ifs were coming back. What if you weren’t good enough? What if you weren’t a great person? What if Chan’s love for you was all a lie? 

Beside you, Chan’s eyelashes cast shadows on his sleeping face. Soft lips pressed together and, for once in his life, that furrow of concentration didn’t hang in his brow. That grit of determination was gone. For tonight, he wasn't just a leader. He wasn’t a member; he wasn’t anything other than Chan, your boyfriend. 

You tried to be quiet as you shifted the blankets and attempted to leave the bed. The squeak of the bed frame and the dip of the bed stirred his sleep. Your name left his lips and a hand stretched out to touch you, but you were already standing up. 

“Baby?” His half-lidded eyes open. Darkness swarmed his vision and you froze. He blinked and blinked and blinked, trying to cast shapes to the shadows. “Baby?” 

“I’m right here,” you finally whispered. “Go back to sleep. It’s too early to get up.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To get a glass of water.” Your voice came out groggy and unconvincing. 

He reached up, rubbed his eyes, and his mouth stretched into a yawn. “What are you really doing?” 

“I’m anxious and I can’t sleep. It’s never ending and I’ve been trying to sleep, but over the past few hours, I kept waking up. I’m not sure what it is, but it won’t go away. Go back to sleep, I’m going to-” 

His arms stretched out in your direction. A silent and simple command, come here. You hesitated and didn’t budge from your spot. “You should go back to sleep. Seriously, Chan, you have to be up early tomorrow.” 

“You either get in my arms or I follow you to the couch.” 

He was so stubborn. You didn’t know if it made you hate him or love him. So stubborn, so determined, such a pain in your ass. A constant nag and a forever reminder that you weren’t alone. 

You sighed, stepped back, and crawled back into the bed. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and pulled you closer. The scent of his body wash was faint, but the woodsy masculine scent still lingered. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You let your eyes fall and sighed again. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head before softly beginning to sing. The worry in your heart melted away instantly. You began to relax and let his sleepy voice lull you back to sleep. 

Dating a singer had more perks than you’d like to admit. 

_ _ _ 

Minho: 

“What is wrong with you?” Minho asked. 

The two of you were sitting in his living room and watching a movie. Halfway through, you shifted in your chair and became fidgety. You shrugged and waved him off, not wanting to distract him. 

His eyes narrowed at you, but he didn’t prod. Knowing you, you probably just needed to adjust your spot or something. You were never great at sitting still for long periods of time. After a few more minutes, you shifted again. Your nails curled into your palms and the sharp edges bit into your skin. 

You shifted to comfort yourself a few seconds later. When your knee started bouncing, Minho grabbed the television remote and paused the screen. “What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t do that. Your thing-” He gestured towards you. “You’re anxious or something. Your knee is bouncing and you can’t sit still. Why are you anxious?” 

“Because I’ve never seen this movie and what if my favorite character dies?” You slumped back in the seat with a frown. “Don’t you have a heart? How are you not anxious about this?” 

“So anxious, to where you can’t stop moving?” 

Your hand went up in defeat. “I can’t help it! I’m always like this when I don’t know the ending of a movie. I’m trying not to look up how it ends, but I want to. I can't stand the suspense!” 

“Hold on.” 

You watched as Minho slid across the hardwood floor and disappeared into the kitchen. Upon his return, he presented you with Dori's familiar black and brown coating. His feet dangled helplessly as Minho approached. 

“Have a cat.” 

“What is-” 

“Hold on.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, but you grabbed Dori anyway. You shifted, trying to keep him comfortable. Small paws pressed into your lower stomach. He tried to pull away from you to lie on your thighs. 

Your head poked up at the sound of incoming footsteps. When you looked up, an unhappy Soonie glared at you. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “What is this?” 

“Have a cat.” 

“Minho, this is-” 

“Wait.” 

You tried not to laugh as he disappeared again. Dori shifted and Soonie’s head went back with a loud meow of distress. You reached up and gently patted his head, trying to calm him down. 

Footsteps patted your way for a final time and when you looked up, the sleepy eyes of Doongie were staring back, full of obvious annoyance. Minho pressed him further, nearly pushing into your nose. “Here, have a cat.” 

You let him place Doongie on your chest. He reached out and used a finger to tap the top of each of their heads. “One cat, two cats, three cats, and-” 

You glanced up and, to your surprise, he tapped the tip of your nose. “Four cats.” 

“I’m not a cat!” 

“Four cats.” 

You grumbled and complained, your anxiety long forgotten about. Doongie shifted, nearly falling off your chest. You quickly grabbed him and leaned back so he wouldn’t roll. “There are too many cats in my lap.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

You opened your mouth to bicker, but your words halted. Minho shifted Dori and Soonie, so he could squirm into your lap with them. Your eyes widened as he sat across your lap. “What are you-” 

“Five cats.” 

“Lee Minho!” 

“Sorry, I only speak cat.” He picked up Dori’s paw and waved it in your direction. Garbled meows in various pitches fell from his lips. All you could do was stare at him blankly as he took Dori’s paw and gently booped your nose with it. 

Clearly, growing up as an only child with three cats has drastic effects on the human psyche. 

_ _ _ 

Changbin: 

You decided when you were a kid that quizzes were your worst enemy. Ever since you were in elementary school and colorful motivational posters plastered the walls, you knew you’d always hate tests. Tests. Quizzes. Finals. All of it. 

As you grew up and enrolled in college, things didn’t change. Your kitchen table was full of opened textbooks and sticky note reminders. Highlighters swept over topics in notebooks. A headache had been pulsing behind your left eye since you started. 

You were drowning in academics. Even worse, you were drowning alone. Changbin was out at a photoshoot and you were on your own until sometime late tonight. It was perfect in your head. You were two weeks away from finals and now you had plenty of time to study. 

You were trying your best. You did what you could, but the more you pressured yourself into studying more, the more the content wasn’t sticking. There was too much stuff for each subject and not enough space in your head. Everything you just spent two hours drilling into your frontal cortex; it was gone. 

You scanned the pages of the textbooks, reading the words, but never truly soaking them in. Words and words and words and words. Some are more complex than others, but it was all the same. You were so focused and anxious about forgetting and failing; it was the only thing taking up space in your head. 

You shoved everything away from you in a fit of rage. A textbook snapped shut and hit the floor with a loud thud. Your neatly stacked vocabulary cards that were in alphabetical order, they slipped over the edge too. The twenty minutes you spent organizing them were all for nothing. They scattered in every direction and brought tears to your eyes. 

Your face found your hands and that’s where they stayed. Elementary tests were far different from college tests. Twenty percent of these finals went to your final grades. Your final grades were important, especially in the classes you really struggled with. The difference between passing and failing was huge. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Changbin called out. “I’m home and I brought food! Have you eaten anything?” Footsteps echoed from the living room and moved closer. 

You didn’t bother looking up. On the verge of bursting into sobs, you stayed buried in your hands. Changbin’s eyes went to everything covering the table. “Woah! What’s all this?” 

He placed the plastic bag on the side of the counter and approached you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” A comforting hand found your shoulder. “Why are your note cards and textbook on the floor? Did something happen?” 

You pulled your face away from your hands with tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m stressed and anxious. As you can see, I’m trying to study, but nothing is sticking.” You sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Why are you home from the shoot early? Did something happen?” 

“No, we finished early. Apparently, we all behaved well and behaving means getting work done earlier. That’s not the point. Do you have tests coming up?” His fingers started at your crown and gently tugged back your hair. 

“Finals. They’re two weeks away and I could use the head start, but-” You gestured at the mess, “it’s not going so well.” 

“I can see that. How about-” He gently grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned your head back to face him. “We clean this up and we eat. After dinner, we’ll pick one subject and start there. I’ve heard that if you can successfully teach what you’re learning to someone, it means you’ve mastered understanding it.” 

Your lips tugged into a pouting frown. More tears filled your eyes and you reached up to wipe them away. Changbin followed your reaction with his own frown. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because you’re sweet and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you.” 

“Nonsense, everyone deserves their own Changbinnie.” He reached down and placed a soft kiss against your pouty lips. “Go clean up and I’m going to stack these on the counter.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too. Now hurry!” He pulled away and shooed you. “The food is going to get cold and you know how I feel about cold food. Bleh.” 

_ _ _ 

Hyunjin: 

“Sweetheart, you can’t stay in the car the entire day.” Hyunjin hung against the wide open passenger door with an amused smile. “You know I’m stronger than you, right? I could just simply lean down and tug you straight out of there.” 

You threw him a weak side eye. This morning, you woke up feeling awful. Since it was his day off, Hyunjin had been taking care of you the entire evening. Every few hours, he had been taking your temperature. When it spiked three degrees in ‌a few hours, he insisted on taking you to the hospital. 

The only issue? You hated hospitals and doctors. Not once in your life had you ever trusted a nurse. In the middle of your fever, your anxiety sky-rocketed. You begged him not to take you, but here the two of you were now. He parked right beside the emergency room door, but you refused to get out of his car. 

“What if I go in there and they only give me twenty-four hours to live?” You hoarsely uttered. 

“Then we better get in there to make sure you have twenty-four hours and not twenty-three.” 

“What if they tell me I have cancer?” 

“Sweetheart-” 

“Or what if it’s worse than that? What if I have a broken bone that I’m not aware of? My foot has been hurting since I rolled it a few days ago and maybe it healed wrong. What if they have to break it again and it goes wrong? What if it gets infected and I lose my entire leg?” 

He called your name, but you didn’t respond. You were too busy voicing your concerns out loud. “What if,” you continued, “they find out I’m really sick and they have to give me a shot in the butt?” 

He blinked, completely surprised. “What if they what?” 

“You heard me, Hyunjin! What if they have to give me a shot in the ass? Why can’t we just go back to that sweet pink medicine that was stored in the fridge? Why do doctors cause misery?” You threw your head back against the seat and continued whining. 

You knew you were being dramatic, but between your high fever and your anxiety, you were spiraling. Just thinking about going in and being poked and prodded in your state.  It was unfathomable. 

“Or, I know this sounds crazy, but what if you just go in, they diagnose you, give you some medicine, and we go back home?” 

“Why would they do that? They’re evil doctors,” you whined as your head slumped to your chest. You were exhausted and trying to fight with Hyunjin, it was getting harder and harder to stay on topic. Your body ached and wanted to nod off. 

“They’re not evil and I’ll be right there with you the entire time.” He reached down and scooped you into his arms. “Do you think I’d let them hurt you? No way.” 

You groaned as your head shifted against the warmth of his chest. “They’re gonna kill me, probably. Kill me and rip my limbs apart. They’re going to feed me my feet and they’re going to-” 

He snorted and squeezed you tighter. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about? Doctors wouldn’t do such an outrageous thing. They want to help you, not feed you your own feet.” 

“I forgot you’d eat my feet.” 

“Huh?” 

“You ate Minho’s foot in that one photo.” 

“Honey, I think you’re delirious from your fever.” 

Your eyes drooped and the emergency doors swung open. The scent of disinfectant hit you and your eyes slipped shut. You mumbled his name, but he didn’t stop walking to the front desk. He started explaining the situation to a nurse. 

That didn’t stop you from trying to explain how you needed your feet as you succumbed to sleep. 

_ _ _ 

Han: 

“I’m anxious,” you uttered as you laid on the living room floor. Your limbs sprawled out and your gaze caught the spinning ceiling fan. Wooden panels whirled around so fast that they were a giant blur. 

“Me too.” Han agreed as he laid a few feet away from you. “I don’t know what I’m anxious about. What are you anxious about?” 

“The future, I think. How does it happen? What if it goes wrong? What if I make the wrong mistakes? What if I fuck it up?” 

Han’s eyes widened and his adam’s apple bobbed with a gulp. “Okay, cool. Now you have me anxious about the future, too.” 

“What if we break up?” 

“What if we’re together for the rest of our lives?” He countered. 

“Woah, are we prepared for that? For this forever? I want to say that I am, but forever is an awfully long time.” 

“Isn’t it a good thing?” 

“Listen, I’ve been a victim of your farts.” 

He reached over and playfully slapped his hand on your shoulder, causing you to laugh. “Shut up!” He whined. “Yours are ten times worse than mine.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

“Yeah-huh!” 

“Prove it!” You challenged. 

“Stage one, denial.” 

You burst into a fit of giggles and he followed. Your hands curled up over your stomach as you shook. For a few brief moments, you pushed the anxiety from the front of your head. You sucked in a deep breath and let it out. 

“But really,” you continued, “how do you stop your anxiety?” 

“I ignore it by watching anime. How do you stop yours when it’s bad?” He shifted so he could stare at you. You didn’t move from laying on your back. His arm moved up to prop his head. 

“I do whatever I can to escape reality. Most of the time, it’s social media or shoving my nose in a book.” 

“Sometimes I bother one of the guys. Life feels better when I’m with them. Even if it’s just one, I feel less stressed. We’re always laughing together so…” 

“I understand, it’s a really special bond that you have with the other group members. I’ll admit that it makes me jealous. It just sounds nice and what you have, it’s so authentic and real, you know? You don’t just have one good person, you have seven. I’m sure you have more than that, but-” 

“It really is special, isn’t it?” He smiled to himself and shifted back onto his back. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sometimes when I’m really stressed, I go visit Minho. Every now and then, we’ll go to his parents’ house to see his cats. That’s my favorite way to ease anxiety.” 

“If only you had a pet.” 

He nodded in agreement and the two of you sat in silence again. Tangled in your own thoughts, your eyes went back to the spinning ceiling fan. You watched it spin around and around and around and-

“Holy shit!” You jerked upright with wide eyes. “Han Jisung, you idiot!” 

“Huh?” 

“You have a dog!” 

“I have a dog?” 

“Bbama!” 

“Obama?” He echoed, feeling more confused. “The former president of the-” His eyebrows furrowed until he gasped and slammed a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, I have a dog!” He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed your arm. “Come on, we gotta go visit Bbama!” 

“Obama,” you mocked him as you followed. 

He turned around and stuck his tongue out at you. Yours poked out and caused him to huff. “Shut up,” he finally grumbled. “So I forgot I had a dog! Sue me!” 

“Bbama might.” 

_ _ _ 

Felix: 

“It’s not funny!” You childishly stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips. 

Across the way, there were tears in Felix’s eyes. The two of you had been posing in front of Hyunjin’s camera and trying to take cute photos together. The last one came out with your eyes in two different directions and half-closed. 

Hyunjin was trying not to laugh, for your sake, but Felix was losing it. For the past two minutes, he’d been on the ground with a hand on his stomach. Just when he thought he composed himself, laughter broke back out. 

“Baby, p-please,” he weakly uttered. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” His words cut off with more laughter. 

You didn’t want to do this because of this reason. The two of you were supposed to go official with your relationship and you wanted a cute photo to announce it on Instagram. Hyunjin offered to take it, but none of them were coming out right. 

You were anxious, worried that the photos would all come out ugly, and here you were actually living that scenario. Your cheeks were red with humiliation, but it didn’t seem to bother Felix. He was still cracking into fits of giggles. 

“It’s not funny,” you mumbled again, feeling more and more miserable. “I told you this was a bad idea.” 

Felix shook his head and blonde tendrils went flying. “No, i-it wasn’t a bad idea. This was the best idea. I just wasn’t expecting that angle. It was one poor photo and-” 

“It feels like every photo has been a poor photo. I’m not doing it right. I don’t know how to pose like you do. I’m not used to-” 

“Hey,” he shoved himself off the ground, “it’s okay, really.” 

“No, it’s not. You keep laughing at me. I feel like we’re wasting Hyunjin’s time. So much of his time that he just disappeared to go find a snack while we recouped.” 

“Hyunjin is a growing man. You couldn’t help that if you wanted to. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just-” He reached forward and gently cupped your cheeks. “I love you so much, you don’t understand it.” 

“I don’t like being laughed at, even if it’s just a silly photo. I’m always afraid that-” 

His head shook. “I’m not laughing at you. I mean, I am, but I’m laughing at the pose you ended up in. Think about it. Wouldn’t you laugh if Hyunjin snapped a photo of me in that same pose?” 

“I guess.” He narrowed his eyebrows at you. “Okay, I guess if the roles were reversed, I’d probably laugh a lot. I look like an idiot.” 

“Exactly.” He pressed on your cheeks and caused your lips to press together. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much.” 

Your cheeks went red and your lips grew into a smile. He grinned and leaned forward and then- 

Flash! 

Felix jerked away with a groan and you blinked rapidly, trying to gain your vision back. His hands went up to rub his eyes. “Hyunjin?” 

“I got it! This is the perfect photo! Oh, you guys are just so cute!” He squealed as he stared at the screen on his camera. “That speech? Disgustingly cute. This photo? Fan wars are going to be caused.” 

“Hyunjin,” Felix warned. 

“What? I’m just saying.” He shrugged and spun the lens towards the two of you. “What do you think?” 

As you stared at the photo of Felix’s twinkling eyes, a smile on his face, and your own blushing smile; you knew he was right, it was perfect. _ _ _ 

Seungmin: 

“And this.” Seungmin grabbed an item from the shelf and placed it in the grocery cart. “And this. One of these,” he picked up two more items and dropped them into the cart. “Three of these and-” 

Your arms curled around yourself tighter. To Seungmin, grocery shopping was a necessity. To you? It was, but specifically, when the store wasn’t thriving with customers. Showing up around five on a Friday evening was the worst thing you agreed to do. 

Seungmin had the list and he was carefully marking items off one-by-one. You were behind him and stressed out. The moment you walked into the store beside him, you swore you could feel the pulsing and stressful energy of the crowd. 

People were rushing in and out of the aisles. Some were getting pushy while waiting for their turn to look at a specific product. Seungmin didn’t seem to mind the chaos. Maybe he did and he just tuned it out somehow, but you? You didn’t work like that. 

You were feeling stressed and wanting to cry. More and more people were slowly entering the front of the aisle that you just came down. You swore you could feel the annoyance of some. It didn’t help that Seungmin kept stopping every few feet to check off an item and calculate the prices of everything. 

“Seungmin?” You spoke up nervously as you glanced over your shoulder. 

“Hm?” 

“Can we please leave this aisle?” 

“Hold on, let me add these two numbers together.” 

You sighed, but continued waiting. Your brain screamed and begged you to get out of the aisle, but you stayed close to Seungmin. You shut your eyes to focus on your irregular breaths and when you opened them a few moments later, Seungmin was gone. 

Your eyes widened and you stepped forward, but before you got far, a cart hurried past you. You jumped, side-stepping, and trying to get out of the way as a random woman sped by. Your hands curled into fists and you pressed yourself against the colorful cereal boxes, trying to make yourself smaller and take up less space. 

Out of the aisle, you glanced around, but Seungmin was missing. Cursing beneath your breath, you hurried to the next aisle and glanced down at it, only to find it void of the light blue hoodie he was wearing. 

You searched and the more you searched, the more your anxiety grew. The overhead lights were too white and too bright. The chattering of people grew louder and louder. Your own heartbeat hammered against your ears. 

A lump built in your throat, but you forced yourself to swallow it. You hated crowds; you hated the congestion of people, and more importantly, you hated that feeling of suffocation that sat upon the top of your chest. It compressed your lungs and made breathing barely operable. 

Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on the task at hand. Walking around felt nearly impossible. Too many people had carts and weren’t paying attention. Someone was texting and another one was making a phone call. Someone else stopped in the middle of an aisle and pressed buttons on their phone. 

“Excuse me,” you uttered as you walked around them. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at the huff that left their mouth. “Some people have no manners,” they grumbled. Unaware that they did anything wrong, they hurried away, only to stop in front of the opening of another aisle to pull out their phone again. 

You wandered around again, trying to find Seungmin, but to no avail. Your hand reached into your back pocket to grab your phone. Just as you considered talking to him, you pulled your hand away from your phone. He shut his phone off at the beginning of the trip, not wanting to be interrupted. 

Frustrated and too upset to function, you checked a few more aisles, but you couldn’t find him. You began to head towards the door, assuming you’d just wait in the car until he got back. You walked and walked and walked until a car bumped into the back of your ass. 

You wheeled around and there stood Seungmin. His grin fell when he took in your teary eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” 

“There’s too many people. I couldn’t find you and I’m so overstimulated. I thought you were a stranger and I just-” 

“Breathe,” he reminded you as he stepped out from behind the cart. “I’m sorry. I thought you were behind me when I left the cereal aisle. I turned around and you were gone. I was grabbing items in another aisle and I figured you’d find me. I didn’t think-” 

“It’s not your fault. I can’t help my social anxiety, it’s just so busy. Some woman was so rude to me. I just want to go wait outside. I feel overwhelmed and it’s becoming a struggle to breathe.” 

“Do you want me to go with-” 

Your head shook. “Finish shopping and I’ll wait for you in the car. I’m sorry, I wanted to help you, but-” 

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I should have considered how busy the store is at this time of the night. You go to the car and I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” 

“I love you.” 

Not caring that he was in the middle of the store, he leaned up, grabbed your cheeks, and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. A sweet unexpected gesture that tasted like spearmint and your salted tears. 

“I love you too. Now get out of my store,” he grinned. “No adult supervision. I’m going to get dino nuggets.” 

_ _ _ 

Jeongin: 

Jeongin had seen a lot of stupidity over the years. He saw it in his fellow idol members. He saw it blatantly stamped all over the idol industry. It was rare that the stupidity came from you, but today was different. 

He shielded the top of his head with his arm to block the rain from his vision. The keys jingled in his hand and his shoe squeaked on the entry to your shared home. He grumbled and ripped off his damp coat. 

The rain hadn’t stopped pouring for what seemed like hours. A constant downpour that was steadily sprinkled with thunder and lightning. Earlier, the power to his company’s building went down after lightning struck a nearby power cord. He finished the rest of his schedule via a backup generator. 

He kicked off his shoes and called your name. He expected you to be taking a nap. On certain evenings, you did. Some days, you stayed up late, came home, and indulged in a few hour nap. He grew used to the routine, but you weren’t on the couch. 

He headed to your shared room and, to his surprise, you weren’t there either. You had to be home, he knew that. Your phone was there on the nightstand and face down. Your shoes, he put his own right next to them. 

He called your name, but you didn't respond. Just as he was about to call your name again, there was a flash. Through the glass sliding door, the balcony lit up and there you were. Squatting on the ground, huddled around yourself, and soaking wet, you sat in a small ball. 

His eyes widened and he rushed forward. He tugged on the balcony door, only to find it locked. He cursed, flipped the lock, and swung the door open. “What are you doing out here? Get inside now!” He called out over the loud sound of heavy rain. 

Your eyes half-opened at the sound of your name. You glanced over to find a worried Jeongin. He grabbed your forearm and tugged your dripping and shivering body back inside. His eyes scanned you up and down. 

“What happened to you? What did you do? Why were you locked on the balcony?” 

“I was anxious,” you mumbled. “I went out to get fresh air and I must have slammed the door shut too hard and the lock flipped. When I went out, it wasn’t raining.” 

“But it’s been raining for hours!” 

“Has it? I just woke up freezing cold a few minutes ago, I think. It’s not too bad after you get used to being soaked.” 

He sighed and grabbed the end of your shirt. “Arms up.” 

You didn’t fight him tugging off your shirt. “You’re such an idiot,” he mumbled. “You’re going to catch a cold by wearing these soaking wet clothes. You’re going to wake up with a fever and sniffles.” 

“On the bright side of things, I don’t feel anxious anymore.” 

“Because you’re too cold to feel it.” He sighed and grabbed the warmest blanket he could find. “From now on, if you go out onto the balcony when I’m gone, crack the door.” 

“Okay.” 

“What were you anxious about, anyway?” 

“I don’t know. I’m too cold to remember, but this blanket is so warm. Have I ever told you I love you?” 

“Sometimes I think I should reconsider my offer.” 

“That’s not nice.” 

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way at certain times.” 

“Only when you wear ugly shoes.” 

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Ko-fi

[connorsui]

Tending to mr.crawlings hair had become a strange sort of ritual.

It wasn’t as though he ever asked for it—he rarely asked for anything, his fragmented words caught between hollow giggles and crooked smiles—but you could tell. The way he tilted his head, like a dog waiting for a pat, or the faint, bone-deep rattle of his laugh when your fingers brushed through the silken black strands dragging behind him. He liked it.

No, loved it.

“Sit,” you murmured softly, and he obeyed, folding his spindly limbs in a spider-like crouch in front of you. His face remained hidden behind the curtain of his endless hair, but his constant smile curved wider as you knelt down beside him.

“Pretty,” he giggled, his voice a rasp, the words barely audible. His skeletal fingers twitched but stayed still, letting you work.

“Yes, yes, your hair. pretty,” you teased, sifting the impossibly soft locks through your fingers. It was odd how such a thing—attached to such a terrifying figure—could feel so human. So alive. The contrast made your chest ache with something you didn’t want to name.

You began with a comb, carefully working through the tangles at the ends. Every time the teeth snagged, he let out a breathy laugh, as though the sensation tickled him. The sound was unnerving, but you’d grown used to it—like the way he crawled instead of walking or how he never revealed his face. Well, not often.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, your voice a little softer.

“No,” he whispered, the word drawn out, lips splitting into an eerie grin. His shoulders shivered beneath the tension of your touch, lanky and fragile like brittle twigs beneath his pale skin.

"You. Never. Hurt"

You continued in silence, the only sound the occasional rustle of his hair against the floor. Once the knots were smoothed, you reached for a small bottle of oil, pouring a few drops into your palm. He tilted his head curiously as you began working the slick liquid through the roots.

“Good,” he rasped, giggling faintly. “Feels... good.”

“I thought so,” you murmured, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. “Someone’s got to take care of this. You’d let it grow into a nest if I didn’t.”

“Yours,” he whispered, almost too quiet to catch. Your fingers faltered for a moment, your chest tightening.

“What?”

“Yours,” he repeated, voice more of a hiss. His head tilted back, revealing a glimpse of hollowed, scarred sockets beneath the hair. His grin widened further, a grotesque stretch of love and delight. “Only… yours.”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t stop, fingers trembling slightly as you began twisting his hair into a loose braid. It trailed down his back, reaching all the way to the floor. When you were finished, you tied the end with a pink ribbon, the same way you always did.

“There,” you said softly. “All done.”

He craned his neck toward you, the smile never fading.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Whether he meant you or the braid, you weren’t sure.

[hazelira]

little chaos

Heeseung sprawled on the couch, one arm resting lazily over the backrest, the other holding the TV remote. He had the volume turned low, just enough to keep track of the sitcom playing while still hearing the giggles and squeals from the living room floor. His lips curled into a smile every time he glanced over the top of his phone to check on his two precious girls.

Little Haneul, his mischievous two-year-old, was down on the rug in nothing but her diaper. Her dark, slightly curly hair bounced as she giggled, poking at her baby sister's soft, round belly. "Squishy, squish-squish!" she cooed, poking it with both index fingers like she was kneading bread.

Haeun, the six-month-old, sat wobbling before her big sister, chunky little legs sticking out like tiny tree trunks. Her face twisted into a baby version of a scowl, her pudgy hands waving in protest. "Ahhhh! Buhhhh!" she babbled, her displeasure clear as she tried to scoot backward.

"Be gentle, Neul," Heeseung said, his voice soft but firm, eyes flicking to the scene. He was always careful not to sound too scolding—it was just his toddler’s innocent curiosity.

"Baby chubby!" Haneul announced, ignoring her daddy. She pinched Haeun's cheeks lightly and squished them together, making her baby sister’s lips pout like a little fish.

Haeun had had enough. She let out a high-pitched squeal and started an awkward crawl-scoot combination toward the couch, her chunky thighs flexing with the effort. "Na-na-na!" she wailed, clearly calling for her dad to save her from her tormentor.

"Alright, alright," Heeseung chuckled, putting the remote aside and leaning down to scoop Haeun up just as she reached the edge of the couch. She clung to him, burying her chubby face into his chest with a dramatic sigh.

Haneul stood up, her bare feet padding across the floor, and looked up at her dad with her best "oopsie" expression. "I just pway, Daddy," she said innocently, batting her long lashes.

Heeseung shook his head, trying not to laugh. "I know, princess, but your baby sister doesn’t love being squished as much as you think she does." He kissed the top of her head and reached over to ruffle her hair.

Haneul pouted but quickly forgot her disappointment, climbing onto the couch beside him. "I up up too!" she declared, snuggling into his side.

Heeseung adjusted so he had one girl tucked under each arm, Haeun still clinging to him like a baby koala and Haneul leaning against his side with her head on his shoulder.

"You two," he said with mock exasperation, pressing a kiss to Haeun's chubby cheek before doing the same to Haneul, "are the reason Daddy doesn't get to watch a single show in peace."

Haneul giggled, tilting her head back to look at him with wide, sparkling eyes. "We’re the reason Daddy happy!"

Heeseung laughed loudly at that, his heart swelling with pride and affection. "You’re right, princess. You’re the reason Daddy’s happy."

The three sat like that for a while, the TV show playing in the background. Haeun eventually calmed down, her tiny hand clutching at Heeseung’s shirt as her eyes drooped. Haneul yawned dramatically, curling into her dad's side.

Heeseung didn’t mind that he’d have to rewatch the episode later. Right now, his two little chaos-makers, their soft giggles and warm snuggles, made every second of his day perfect.

And when you walked through the door later, seeing Heeseung asleep on the couch with his daughters draped over him was enough to make your heart melt completely.

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

@seonhoon @dollrincess @ethanatvre @rei4sunoo @shxhdsstuff @jakeflvrz @laylasbunbunny @jiiyen @saphiranishimurashan @lovelycassy @starry-eyed-bimbo @babyboomysweetie @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @mellowgalaxystrawberry @heavenki @s1rawb3rry @madslove-enhypen @chasinthatboobie @aishigrey

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Phainon x Assistant!Reader

Summary: After being isekai’d into the world of Honkai: Star Rail, a game where players explore intergalactic civilizations and fight cosmic threats, you awaken in the city of Amphoreus as the assistant to Phainon.

In this fic contains different details from the original game.

A sharp chill ran down your spine as you opened your eyes. The first thing you noticed was the crystalline glow of Amphoreus stretching endlessly before you, its otherworldly beauty rendering you speechless. You blinked, expecting to see your screen, your controller, your familiar surroundings—but no. This wasn’t your room, and this wasn’t the game anymore.

“You’re awake.”

The voice was smooth, melodic, but carried an undercurrent of control that sent goosebumps crawling over your skin. You turned your head, and there he was—Phainon. Standing close, too close. His eyes, the same shimmering turquoise you had admired on screen, seemed to pierce right through you.

“Are you just going to stare, or do I need to remind you of your duties?” His lips curled into an amused smile, though his tone was sharp.

Duties? Wait—what was happening? You looked down at your clothes, now a sleek uniform of dark fabric adorned with golden embroidery. A datapad rested in your hands, glowing faintly with information that you couldn’t process. Your heart pounded as realization struck.

You were in the game.

And not just as a spectator—you were his assistant.

“I—uh…” Words caught in your throat. How were you supposed to explain this?

Phainon’s smile faltered, and his gaze turned calculating. “Are you unwell?” His hand reached for you, his fingers brushing against your forehead as though checking for a fever. “Strange. You’re not one to falter in your tasks.”

His touch felt unnervingly real, and you couldn’t help but flinch. That small reaction was all it took for his expression to darken.

“You’ve changed.” His voice dropped an octave, and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t like it.”

Before you could respond, a shimmering figure emerged from the nearby crystalline canal, interrupting the moment. A council envoy approached, their translucent form glowing faintly in the twilight.

“The council has summoned you, Lord Phainon.” the figure said, its voice echoing like a chime. “They request an update on the breach in the southern district.”

Phainon dismissed the envoy with a wave of his hand, his attention returning to you almost immediately. “Follow me,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And don’t stray.”

You stumbled after him, still trying to process the impossibility of your situation. As the two of you entered a grand hall bathed in twilight, the weight of countless eyes settled on you.

Phainon took his place at the center of the room, his aura dominating the space, but he kept you close—so close you could feel the brush of his robes against your arm. When a council member dared to question your presence, Phainon’s turquoise eyes burned with something dangerous.

“They belong to me” he said simply, his voice cold as ice. “And that’s all you need to know.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if it was part of the game’s narrative or if Phainon—the character you had once admired from afar—had taken his obsession with his assistant far beyond what you’d ever imagined.

As the meeting concluded, you found yourself alone with him once more. He turned to face you, his gaze unreadable.

“Something’s different about you,” he said, stepping closer until you had nowhere to retreat. His hand tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. “But no matter what’s changed, you’re still mine.”

You followed Phainon through the shimmering corridors of Amphoreus’ central council chamber, your footsteps echoing against the marble-like floors. Every now and then, his sharp turquoise gaze flicked back to ensure you were still behind him. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension—a mixture of curiosity and something far darker.

Your mind raced. This has to be a dream, you thought. But no dream had ever felt this vivid. The coolness of the air, the hum of energy radiating from the crystalline walls, the weight of Phainon’s presence—it was all too real.

As you walked, fragments of your memory returned. Before waking here, you had been playing the new update, marveling at the Amphoreus map and Phainon’s enigmatic character. You had admired his aesthetic, his power, his complexity. But now that you were face-to-face with him, every instinct screamed that he was far more terrifying than you’d imagined.

“Stop daydreaming” Phainon said sharply, breaking your train of thought. He paused at the entrance to an elegant chamber, gesturing for you to step inside. “We have work to do.”

You hesitated, glancing into the room. It was a war room of sorts, with a large, glowing table projecting a holographic map of Amphoreus. Streams of data and symbols floated in midair, all indecipherable to you.

“I…” You faltered, unsure how to respond. You were supposed to be his assistant, but you had no idea what your responsibilities actually were.

Phainon’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. “What’s wrong with you today?” His voice was soft, but it carried a dangerous edge. “You’ve been acting strangely since this morning. If you’re hiding something, I’ll find out.”

Your throat tightened. You couldn’t tell him the truth—he wouldn’t believe you, and even if he did, there was no telling how he’d react.

“I’m just… tired” you said, forcing a weak smile. “Maybe I need some time to adjust.”

He studied you in silence, his gaze piercing. Then, to your surprise, he sighed.

“Fine,” he said, his tone softening ever so slightly. “You’ve always been diligent. I’ll overlook it—for now. But don’t make a habit of this.”

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Phainon stepped closer again, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was almost tender, but his next words sent a chill down your spine.

“Whatever is going on,” he murmured, “don’t forget your place. You’re mine.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes, Lord Phainon.”

Adjusting to life in Amphoreus was far from easy. You quickly realized that the assistant’s role was far more integral to Phainon’s work than you had anticipated. Not only were you responsible for managing his schedule and monitoring intelligence reports, but you were also his confidant, someone he trusted implicitly—perhaps too much.

Phainon’s possessiveness became more apparent with each passing day. He refused to let you out of his sight for too long, insisting you accompany him to every meeting, every inspection, every event. When other figures of authority—council members, envoys, or even subordinates—spoke to you, his gaze would darken, and he’d find subtle ways to end the conversation.

“You’re wasting their time” he’d say coldly, guiding you away with a firm hand on your shoulder.

Yet there were moments of softness, too—moments that made it difficult to reconcile the man you’d admired in the game with the one standing before you now. Late at night, when the weight of his responsibilities bore down on him, he’d sit with you on the terrace overlooking the crystalline city.

“I never asked for this” he once admitted, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Power, duty, control—it’s all meaningless without someone to share it with.”

You didn’t know how to respond. The intensity of his gaze as he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t speaking in generalities.

As you tried to navigate your new reality, a troubling realization began to take root. Phainon seemed to suspect that something about you was different, but he didn’t push the issue—perhaps out of fear that he’d lose you if he did. His obsession only grew stronger, manifesting in subtle yet suffocating ways.

When you finally found a moment alone, you attempted to access the datapad he had given you, hoping to find some clue about how to escape this world. To your shock, the datapad seemed to respond to your thoughts, displaying fragments of your real-world memories.

“Curious, aren’t you?”

You froze. Phainon stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“I knew you were hiding something” he said, stepping into the room. “But I didn’t expect it to be this.”

He moved closer, his turquoise eyes glowing faintly. “Tell me” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “Where are you really from?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it.

“It doesn’t matter” he said, his hand reaching out to cup your face. “You’re here now. And I won’t let you leave.”

Phainon’s hand lingered on your face, his fingers impossibly cool against your skin. His gaze bore into yours, far too perceptive for comfort. You tried to pull back, but he caught your wrist with his other hand, holding you in place effortlessly.

“You’ve been acting strange since the day you woke up” he murmured, his voice low and measured. “Avoiding questions, hesitating with tasks you used to handle flawlessly… Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His smile darkened, the turquoise glow in his eyes intensifying. “Lying to me, little one? That’s unwise.”

Before you could protest, he guided you toward the chair near the glowing map table. His grip was firm but not painful, though there was no mistaking the underlying strength in his movements. “Sit” he commanded, and though you wanted to resist, your legs betrayed you, folding beneath his imposing presence.

He leaned over you, one arm braced on the chair’s backrest, trapping you in place. “Let’s try again” he said, his voice soft yet sharp as a blade. “Who are you really? Because I know this isn’t the assistant I’ve trusted for years. And don’t bother lying—I’ll know.”

The intensity in his gaze made your throat tighten. You tried to think of a believable story, anything that wouldn’t reveal the impossible truth. But before you could speak, his hand brushed your cheek, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with unnerving precision.

“Let’s make it easier” he murmured. “I’ll take the truth myself.”

You barely had time to process his words before a golden glow spread from his hand, sinking into your skin. It wasn’t painful, but it felt invasive, like his presence was sinking into your very mind. You gasped, trying to pull away, but the energy surrounding you was unyielding.

“No, no” he whispered, his tone almost soothing. “Don’t fight it. Let me see.”

Images flashed before your eyes—your life in the real world, the moment you were pulled into this game, your growing dread at being trapped here. You could feel his mind brushing against yours, unraveling your thoughts, your secrets, your fears.

When the glow finally faded, you slumped in the chair, trembling. Phainon straightened, his expression unreadable as he processed what he had seen.

“So,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with a strange mix of amusement and fascination. “You’re not from this world. You don’t belong here.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but his finger pressed gently against your lips, silencing you. “Hush” he said, his smile returning—but this time, it was tinged with something darker. “I understand now. You came here from another place, another reality. But you’re mine now. And I won’t let you leave.”

He straightened, stepping back slightly, but his presence still loomed over you. With a wave of his hand, golden chains of light materialized around your wrists and ankles, locking you in place.

“Phainon, please—” you began, your voice shaky, but he cut you off with a raised hand.

“This is for your own good” he said calmly. “Amphoreus is dangerous for those who don’t know its rules. And now that I know what you are… I can’t risk anyone else finding out.”

His fingers traced one of the glowing chains, and the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “You should feel honored,” he said. “I don’t let just anyone stay this close to me.”

You shivered as he leaned down once more, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But don’t misunderstand me. If you try to escape, if you try to defy me…” His voice dropped to a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “I’ll remind you exactly who you belong to.”

His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. For a moment, the intensity in his eyes softened, replaced by something almost tender.

“I’ll take care of you” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid… as long as you don’t forget your place.”

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. His lips ghosted over yours, teasingly close but never fully connecting. “That’s my assistant.” he murmured, his voice dripping with possession.

Then, as quickly as the moment had begun, he straightened, leaving you breathless and trembling.

“I have business to attend to” he said, turning toward the door. “Rest here for now. We’ll continue this… discussion later.”

The golden chains binding you faded slightly, enough to allow you to move, but you could still feel their weight—both literal and symbolic. Phainon glanced back at you one last time, his smile as enigmatic as ever.

“Don’t go anywhere.” he said, his tone both a warning and a promise.

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ A Slip of the Tongue (Sevika x Reader) ✞⛧

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Brief mentions of intoxication and embarrassment, Slightly suggestive dialogue, Fluff with a hint of teasing…mommy kink-

You’re slumped at the corner of the bar in the Leaky Drop, nursing a drink that tastes far too bitter and burns far too much, but you’re already too deep into the bottle to care. Ricky, the guy you vaguely know from around, sits next to you, rambling about how life’s unfair and women are complicated. His words blur together in your head because the only thing you can focus on is the sheer mortification washing over you in waves.

You had called Sevika earlier. Big mistake. Huge.

You’d just wanted to check in—or maybe hear her voice—because drowning your feelings in alcohol wasn’t working. But in your drunken haze, the words that slipped from your lips were, “Miss you, mommy,” before you had the good sense to realize what you’d just said.

The line went silent.

You panicked and hung up, heart pounding, cheeks on fire, fully aware that you have never called her that before. Not even as a joke.

Now you’re spiraling, avoiding looking at your phone while Ricky drones on, and the alcohol starts dragging you under. You’re about to crash out right here at the bar because there’s no way in hell you can go home and face the consequences.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, slouched in the corner of the Leaky Drop like a statue of poor decisions. Ricky’s still talking—something about his ex and how she ran off with his neighbor—but you’re too far gone to care. Your focus flickers between the chipped edge of your glass and the phone sitting face down on the bar like it’s about to bite you.

You haven’t touched it since the call. Since you said that and hung up before Sevika could react.

A low groan escapes your lips as you drop your head onto your crossed arms. Why the hell did you think drinking would help? Better yet, why did you think calling her would help? She’s probably sitting in her apartment right now, replaying your drunken slip-up and wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

Or worse, she’s pissed.

The thought of Sevika being mad makes your stomach churn harder than the booze already has. You want to crawl into a hole and stay there until the memory evaporates—or until you die, whichever comes first.

Ricky nudges your shoulder. “You good? You look like someone just killed your dog.”

“Feel like someone did,” you mutter, voice muffled against your arms.

“Want me to call someone for you?”

You sit up abruptly, the movement making the room tilt. “Nope. Bad idea. No calls.”

Ricky shrugs and goes back to nursing his drink, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts. Just as you’re about to sink back into your personal hell, the sound of heavy boots hitting the wooden floor drags your attention toward the entrance.

Your heart stops.

It’s Sevika.

She looks as intimidating as ever, her trench coat swaying slightly as she strides toward the bar with purpose. Her sharp eyes lock onto yours instantly, and you know—you know—she’s here because of you.

Ricky whistles low. “Damn, she’s scary. You know her?”

“Unfortunately,” you mumble, sinking deeper into your seat.

She stops a few feet away, towering over you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes flick to the nearly empty bottle beside you, then to Ricky, who wisely decides it’s time to find another place to sit.

“Out,” she says, jerking her head toward the door.

You blink. “What?”

“Out. Now.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Your legs feel like jelly as you slide off the stool, trying not to trip over your own feet as you follow her out into the cold Zaun air. The door shuts behind you with a sharp thud, and the silence is deafening.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You’re too busy bracing yourself for the scolding of a lifetime, staring down at the cracked pavement. But then Sevika steps closer, tilting her head slightly as if trying to get a better look at your face.

“You drunk?” she asks, her voice softer than you expected.

“Maybe,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. “I wasn’t—uh—I didn’t mean to call you. I mean, I did, but not like that. And the ‘mommy’ thing? Total accident. Just…slipped out.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and when you finally gather the courage to look at her, you’re met with an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“‘Mommy,’ huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

She chuckles—chuckles—and the sound sends a confusing mix of relief and embarrassment through you.

“Relax,” she says, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you. “It was…unexpected. But cute.”

Your hands drop, and you gape at her. “Cute?”

She shrugs, her smirk widening. “Yeah. Not something I thought I’d ever hear you say, but… I could get used to it.”

Your brain short-circuits. “Wait. Are you—are you serious right now?”

Her hand reaches out, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her expression softens, the playful edge giving way to something more genuine.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve had a rough night,” she says. “But if you wanna call me ‘mommy’ again when you’re sober…” She leans in, her voice dropping to a low murmur. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Your breath catches, and all you can do is nod, your cheeks burning hotter than ever.

“Good.” She steps back, her usual confidence sliding back into place. “Now, let’s get you home before you pass out on the street.”

You follow her silently, your mind reeling as you replay her words over and over again. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster after all.

[pricegouge]

unfortunately due to @quarterlifekitty @angellake and @fulltacs yammering at me about these posts, i can't stop thinking about price and a little fairy sized reader so uh. here's this very specific ass thing.

unlucky foot

cw: f!reader. microphilia, abduction, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, objectification, orgasm control. oral, but make it as weird as possible i guess. noncon bodymod. he's cut off her wings but it's off-screen and not described. extremely wrong fairy lore MDNI

his name is price. you've only gathered that recently, after overhearing so many of his conversations. he'd never bothered to introduce himself, had simply snuck up on you in his garden one day, sudden shadow eclipsing the warm wash of sun over your naked skin the only warning you got before he'd snatched you up in rough fingers, his grip crumpling a wing so you couldn't escape even of you'd managed to wriggle your way free. he'd since cut them off entirely, a phantom ache in your back every time your nerves kick in, make you flighty.

well, try to, at least.

mankind has a way of stripping the world around them bare, taking the essence of creature and leaving it limping away. call it a mercy to have let it live. rabbits and their feet, etcetera. fairy honey - the slick that drips from between your thighs, nectar-sweet and filled with the addictive zing of magic - is your unlucky foot. it's what got you caught in the first place, got the freedom of mobility ripped from you. your trapper even wears it like a status symbol.

you've met other unfortunate fairies since being with him. they all stared at you in pity from between the bars of the cages they were locked in. price didn't even bother with one, kept you tucked into his breast pocket when not in use because he knew you would never make it far. a fall from his pocket alone might kill you, the towering beast. still, the pocket is preferable. a lack of wings isn't the only thing that draws pity from your fellow captives.

"me, ah like mah honey best in mah tea," the man declares. soap, price has called him. an odd name for such a vulgar man. "perfect amount of sweetness. an' my girl, she's always ripe first thing in the morn'."

the girl tosses her head at his words, embarrassed. or maybe at his ministrations, blunt fingertip working between her legs as she arches and cried under him, her honey leaking onto his finger, copious enough it drips down to his knuckle when he leaves her squirming, unsatisfied, just to swirl his dirty finger into his steaming drink. you hope it burns, sloughs his finger tip right off. he barely even flinches.

on the table, shaking pleasure, his girl composes herself enough to try crawling away. she doesn't make it very far before being dumped back into her cage, but even still you envy her.

price's teeth clench around you, blunted edges of his molars dimpling your skin, holding you in place off to the side of his mouth so he can use his tongue for its intended purpose for once, growling a response in a voice deep enough to rattle around your skull. you don't think you'll ever be used to it. "don't need all the fanfare."

by fanfare he means food. drink, maybe. anything to dilute the potency. most humans, they milk their girls much like soap had, work them until their shaking in overstimulation and dripping like a font. price had never bothered with the middle man, preferred a direct line to his greatest addiction, kept you tucked under his tongue more often than not, the itchy hairs of his mustache tickling your nipples. he'd suck on you occasionally, tongue your cunt as an afterthought when he remembered you weren't one of the thick cigars he sometimes smoked - that you needed more to give him what he wanted. at least he's quite accommodating, when he does remember.

soap reminds him, it seems, his throaty groan when he tips back his cup enough to have price hollowing his cheeks. your cunt pulses lazily, the traitor, skin gone sensitive and pruney with his saliva. he's been doing this all morning, sufficing himself on the slow leak of honey he draws from you rather than a proper dose. you kick at him feebly, one leg trapped between his teeth as the other tries to fend off his tongue. he's well-used to your antics by now, simply shifts you up to roof of his mouth so your soft belly scrapes threateningly across his incisors before letting you settle into the bowl of his jaw. his tongue widens when he pulls it back towards his throat, bullies into your core until you're bandy-legged, sprawled so wide around the muscle that your toes catch on his molars. he suckles at you again, hard. enough so that you can feel it tugging at every inch of you, enough that it draws you minutely further into his mouth. his lips are soft, slick. not the worst thing he's ever slid you across.

"likes tha', does she?"

price shrugs, pushes you off to the side of his mouth again. "likes it enough," he replies, much to soap's amusement, and works his tongue against you expertly as if to prove his point. it's hard to stay stoic even when you want to, his tongue so hot and overwhelming. you're too busy trying to keep your moans stifled to notice how he twists you, rolling your around until his bottom teeth dig up under your ribs, uncomfortable enough that you try to push against his chin just to keep your weight off them.

he doesn't make you suffer for long, at least. a hairy finger wedges under your belly, another hooking over your back. he pulls you from between his teeth like he'd hold a cigar, your plump ass on display for him when your legs fall from his mouth. you hang there, limp, the fight gone from you even as you can't meet the other fairy's eyes. you just want to cum, want him to return you to his pocket so you can burrow into the warmth of it and hide your naked body from his friend's prying eyes. instead, he twists his hand around to show soap the shine of your honey leaking from your cunt, graciously offers the man a taste.

you shudder and huff when soap's tongue drags over you, face burning with the realization that price doesn't even care enough to notice your pleasure.

soap groans again, deeper than before, like he suddenly finds his tea insufficient. "got ye'self a sweet one," he praises, and john hums in agreement, thumbs some more slick from your cunt just to lick it clean.

"and pretty," he adds, turning you about on his palm so he can show you off properly, callused finger ghosting over your exposed belly. "could use some piercings, though, what do you think? get her nipples done so i don't harm my teeth... get her a nice chain. could turn her into a necklace."

[revelboo]

Revel my queen!!!!!!! i am such a huge fan of literally everything you write and have come just like all the rest to beg at your feet for scraps for my absolute favorite bot grimlock if the inspiration strikes!!! thanks for everything you write and share with all of us seriously ur amazing ❤️

Thank you for reading my silly stories! And you guys really do crack me up 🤣

Shiver Pt 4

Grimlock x Reader

• Jolting awake as the whole cabin creaks, your heart races and it all comes rushing back. Unable to really believe you’d somehow fell asleep after all the stress and fear. Skin crawling as the giant robot dinosaur rubs against the side of the cabin. “Out,” that deep, growling voice isn’t really a request. And you half suspect he might just tear down a wall to get to you if he has to. Sliding off the cot, you open the door and try not to remember those screams and the chaos of the night before. Neck craning as the giant, talking, robot dinosaur monster tips his head to stare at you.

• It’s hard to get down low in this form. Even harder to get back up again as he does a little shuffle to stretch out on his belly, jaw resting on the ground. Closer to your level now, though. Less threatening. Venting, he wiggles closer and you nearly fall backwards back into the cabin to avoid him. “What do you want from me?” You ask and his optics shutter. That. That’s exactly what he needs. That voice. Bumping his muzzle against the door frame to make the wood creak, his tail thumps and takes out a small tree.

• Snout pressed against the door, all you can is his big, sharp denta. Feel him venting against you. Skin crawling, you know there’s no point in trying to run. If he’s decides to eat you, you’re definitely not outrunning him. “Talk,” he demands, rubbing his muzzle against the door frame and you hear something crack. That’s right. He’d wanted you to talk to him before, too. And if you don’t, he might keep pushing against the door until the whole wall just collapses.

• “Sure, big guy. We can talk,” you say and he freezes when he feels a small hand gingerly touch his muzzle and then get snatched away like you think he might bite. “Are you just alone out here?” Venting, he tries to remember. Because he’s not supposed to be alone. There were others like him. Shockwave. The Decepticon had captured him and tried to do… something to him.

• Fine hair at your nape lifting when his head pulls away and he growls. Had you made him angry? Backing up, you hear a weird, almost musical sound of metal shifting and sliding. Heart thumping, you nearly fall when a massive hand thumps down and he leans down to stare in at you. And you gape at the giant dinosaur that’s become a giant, robot person. Still terrifying, but not as toothy at least. And it’s hard to be too scared when his cheek is laying in the dirt just so he can see you. And then he’s hooking a servo against the door frame. “Grimlock,” he growls. Is that his name?

Previous

[luvxkdrama]

— obsession

pairing : salesman x reader

warnings : mentions of blood, violence, guns, stalking, manipulation

word count : 6.7 k

summary : “You can run all you want,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But you’ll always end up right where I want you.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Because you’re mine, Y/N. And I always take care of what’s mine.”

[obsession] /əbˈsɛʃn/ : an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind

—

Life has a special way of pulling a full 180° in the blink of an eye—a truth few dare to believe, yet most dismiss without a second thought.

You weren't one of those who believed in the unpredictable twists of life, as you didn’t consider yourself 'special' enough like the protagonists in movies. Your world revolved around university, and your side jobs after class, providing you with the only sense of reality and moments of social interaction. You were always sort of a loner, as people tended to drift in and out of your life with little permanence.

In your early teenage years, this left a deep impact, especially as you watched other girls surrounded by close friends and romantic relationships, while you spent most of your time alone. It weighed heavily on you for a long time, but over the years, you grew to understand that you didn’t need anyone to be happy—at least, not in the way you once thought. You learned to simply keep moving forward with life.

Winter was your favourite season as you found the streets covered in snow, only lightened by the old street lamps, oddly comforting and peaceful. For this exact reason, late classes never bothered, as your walk home with music in your ears while you observed the snow slowly falling from the sky, felt like a reward.

While everyone was still busy talking after class, you didn't waste a second before picking up your things from your desk and leaving the building, the cold yet fresh air hitting you in the face. After quickly adjusting your bag, you put in your earphones in and tightened your scarf before heading home.

It was the most carefree moment of your day, just you and your music.

Or at least, that's how it used to be.

You would feel it whenever you’re walking down the familiar path, the air would suddenly start to feel colder and you’d instinctively quicken your pace. The sensation was back each evening—an eerie feeling crawling up your spine, as if someone unseen was watching your every step since you stepped outside university to the very last step in front of your house.

It began weeks ago but with time you simply convinced yourself you were paranoid especially since each time you glanced over your shoulder, you were met with an empty street. Though, the uneasy shiver constintently lingered in your head.

You sighed at the new sign in front of you on the pavement. The town’s mayor suddenly had the magnificent idea to reconstruct the street's surfaces, which resulted in blocked streets. You turned to your side and eyed the little, barely lightened alleyway in the corner, which seemed like the only fast option for you to get home.

After concluding that the distance through the alleyway should only take you approximately seven minutes, you took a deep breath and left the main street.

Your eyes were glued to the time on your phone which indicated that three minutes has already passed. The relief instantly turned into fear when a sudden sound of footsteps echoed through the alleyway.

At first, you convinced yourself it was your paranoia once again however your blood ran cold when you heard some low chatters as well.

Without a second to loose, you broke into a sprint, each one of your instincts screaming to get away. To your misfortune, the footsteps behind you quickened almost immediately.

Before you could make it to the next turn, you felt someone harshly pull you back, the strength sending you flying on the hard and cold floor. You winced at the sudden pain across your wrist. After a few seconds, you finally looked up just to be face to face with two older men, staring down at you with the creepiest grin you’ve ever seen.

“We knew this alleyway would come in handy someday.” One of them sneered, the other one nodding along.

“That’s a whole jackpot, man.” The smaller one spoke up, eyeing you up and down.

You sat slumped against the wall, your breath uneven. The two men stood a few feet away, their conversation hushed, but the clinking of a glass bottle and the rustling of a sheet drew your attention. Your eyes darted to the white cloth in the man’s hand, already soaked with a liquid that darkened its edges. Your pulse quickened. Your gaze flicked to your left, catching the glint of an empty beer bottle half-hidden in the shadows.

In one desperate motion, you pushed yourself up and lunged for the bottle. The sudden movement startled them, but only for a second. You grabbed the bottle, your fingers trembling as you smashed it against the brick wall. Glass shards rained around you, one nicking your palm, but you barely felt the sting.

You spun to face them, holding the improvised weapon out, your knuckles white, your breathing ragged.

The two men froze for a beat, their expressions unreadable. Then one of them smirked, slow and deliberate, as though your act of defiance was nothing more than an amusing spectacle. The other stepped forward slightly, tilting his head, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes.

"Bold," the first man said, his voice like gravel. "But you won’t use it."

Your grip tightened, the jagged glass shaking in your hand. You raised it higher, her eyes blazing. “Try me.”

Blood dripped down your wrist now, pooling at your fingertips. The pain should have registered, but it didn’t. All you could feel was the rush of adrenaline and the desperate need to survive.

The second man chuckled, low and humorless. "You’re going to hurt yourself more than us with that thing." He took another step, as though testing your resolve.

“I said don’t come any closer!” You barked, your voice rising to a frantic pitch. Your vision blurred at the edges, panic threatening to consume you, but you forced herself to stand your ground.

Then, a slow, deliberate sound cut through the tension.

A clap.

Your body stiffened, and you instinctively glanced over your shoulder, though you didn’t dare take her eyes completely off the two men. From the shadows at the far end of the alley came the silhouette of another figure. The dim light barely outlined his form, but there was something about the confident way he moved that made the air feel heavier.

The men froze, their smugness faltering.

The figure stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the concrete. As he passed into the cone of light from a flickering streetlamp, you saw him fully: tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that fit him like it cost more than your rent.

In one hand, he carried a sleek leather briefcase, but it wasn’t his appearance that sent a chill down your spine—it was the weight of his gaze. He looked at you first, his eyes briefly flicking down to the blood dripping from your hand. Something sharp and dangerous flashed across his expression.

Then his gaze shifted to the two men. His eyes hardened, turning into something deadly.

"You know," he said, his voice low and smooth, yet carrying an undercurrent of menace, "I was not going to let you go easily but,” He took another step forward, unhurried, the lamplight catching the faintest sheen of his cufflinks. “the fact you wasted even a drop of her blood, that, gentlemen, is unforgivable and only leads me to believe you need to pay the highest price for it.” He tilted his head, his jaw tightening.

The smirk on one of the men’s faces disappeared entirely. "Look, we didn’t—"

"Don’t." The man’s voice cut through the air like a blade. He placed his briefcase down on the ground with a deliberate click, straightening as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Save your excuses. I’m not interested."

Your breath hitched as you tightened your grip on the broken bottle, your gaze flicking between the three men. Despite the man in the suit not even looking at you now, you felt the weight of his protection like a shield— and it scared you just as much as it comforted you.

One of the men took a step back, his bravado cracking. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped, though his voice wavered.

The suited man’s lips curled into a humorless smile. "Oh, you’ll find out soon enough."

His gaze flicked to you again, softer this time but still heavy with something unreadable. "Drop the bottle, little one," he said quietly. "You don’t need it anymore."

You hesitated, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. But something in his voice, steady and commanding, made your fingers loosen slightly on the jagged glass.

The suited man turned his attention back to the two men, loosening his cuffs as he turned his attention to the two men. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”

One of the men sneered and lunged first, but it was a mistake. The suited man moved with startling precision, sidestepping with ease before landing a sharp blow to the man’s jaw. The thug crumpled to the ground instantly.

The second man hesitated but swung wildly, aiming for his head. The suited man ducked, his movements fluid and controlled. His fist connected with the man’s ribs, and with a single upward jab to his temple, the second thug dropped like a marionette with its strings cut.

It was over in seconds.

The suited man adjusted his tie and hair as if nothing had happened, his calm demeanor almost unnerving. He stepped over the unconscious bodies, his polished shoes clicking against the concrete as he approached you.

Your grip on the broken bottle tightened again, but before you could say anything, he held up a hand.

“Careful,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to the blood on your hand. “You’re already hurt.”

Your heart pounded, your legs trembling beneath you. You wanted to ask who he was, what he wanted—but the words caught in your throat.

As if sensing your hesitation, he offered you a small, disarming smile. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his tone far too casual. “But if I don’t do this, you’ll miss all the fun.”

Your brows furrowed. “What—”

You didn’t even see him move. One moment he was standing in front of you, and the next, you felt a sharp sting at the side of your neck. Your hand flew up instinctively, fingers brushing against a small syringe he’d already pulled away.

Your vision blurred, the alley tilting around her. “What... did you do?” You managed, your voice slurring as your legs gave way.

Your vision darkened, your consciousness slipping away. The last thing you felt was his steady hands cradling you as if you were something fragile.

And then, there was nothing.

──────────────────

A sharp pounding in your skull dragged you back to consciousness. Groaning, you tried to reach up to massage your temple, but your arms wouldn’t move. Panic shot through you as you became fully aware—your wrists were tightly bound to a cold metal chair.

Your eyes snapped open, taking in your surroundings. Dim light. An unfamiliar room. And then your breath hitched.

A few meters ahead of you, the two men who had cornered you in the alley sat slumped in chairs, directly across from each other. They were conscious but visibly shaken, their hands fidgeting nervously as they avoided looking at each other.

Your heart raced as you scanned the room. The polished figure of the man in the suit stepped into view, the faint clack of his expensive shoes echoing in the otherwise silent room. He carried the same briefcase from earlier, but now it was open on a nearby table, its contents hidden from your angle.

“Ah, you’re awake.” His voice was smooth, casual, as if he were greeting an old friend. He turned to you with a smile that made your stomach churn.

Your throat tightened as you yanked at the bindings on your wrists, the rough rope biting into your skin. “Let me go!” You shouted, but your voice cracked, fear taking over.

The suited man ignored you. Instead, he turned to the two men, his expression darkening. “Now, gentlemen, here’s how it works. You’ll play a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors.” His tone was almost cheerful, as if he were explaining a board game. “The loser, unfortunately for them, will take a turn in a nice little game of Russian roulette.”

The two men looked at him in wide-eyed horror. “You’re insane,” one of them spat, though his voice quivered. The man in the suit only chuckled. “Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who thought harassing a woman in an alley was perfectly sane.”

Your heart dropped. Your stomach churned as you yanked harder at the restraints, desperate to get free. “Stop this!” You screamed, your voice raw with panic.

The man’s cold eyes flicked to you. He walked over slowly, tilting his head as if examining you. “We’ll talk later, love. Let me take care of these two first.” he said softly, as if speaking to a child.

“No ! Let me out of here !” Your scream grew louder, shrill and desperate. You weren’t going to let this happen.

The suited man sighed, pulling something from the table behind you. When he turned back, a roll of silver duct tape was in his hand. “You’re really quite loud,” he remarked with a faint smirk “when I say we’ll talk later, we will talk later.” Before you could react, he firmly pressed a strip of tape over your mouth.

You screamed against it, the sound muffled now, as tears began to blur your vision. “There we go,” he said calmly, crouching to your eye level. “Much better. Don’t worry—you’re not the one playing.” He reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch gentle in a way that made your stomach twist.

Standing again, he turned back to the two men, his fingers brushed over the revolver, spinning the cylinder slowly, the soft metallic clicks echoing through the room. His voice, smooth and unhurried, cut through the tension.

“You know,” he began, his eyes flicking to you for a fleeting moment before focusing back on the two men, “I’ve been watching her for weeks now. Quiet, diligent, always walking home alone late at night. Completely unaware of the world around her.”

He smiled faintly, almost wistfully. “She never notices the things I do. The way the streetlights flicker just a little too long on that one corner she passes every day. The way her steps quicken when she hears a noise but then slow again because she convinces herself there’s nothing there.” He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth. “So trusting of the silence.”

You froze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You thrashed against the ropes, your muffled cries filling the room as you stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Y/N,” he said, tilting his head as he glanced at you. “It’s not as sinister as it sounds.” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “I simply… admired you from afar. I like to keep things orderly, you see. Controlled.”

He turned back to the two men, his smile fading as his expression darkened. “But you two… you ruined everything.” His tone sharpened, dripping with venom. “I had an organized, peaceful plan in place. No harm, no mess. But no. You just had to interfere with your disgusting little game, didn’t you?”

The two men exchanged frantic glances, their fear mounting with every word.

The suited man leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “I was patient. I waited. I followed her, yes, but not with ill intent. I was protecting her. Watching over her. Ensuring no harm came to her.” His voice dipped, colder now. “And then you two decided to drag her into your filthy, selfish world. For what? A moment of power? A sick thrill?”

He straightened, running a hand along the lapel of his suit, his calm exterior returning as if he hadn’t just confessed to weeks of stalking. “And if that wasn’t bad enough,” he continued, his tone now bitter, “you made her hurt herself in the process. Her blood is on your hands.” His eyes flicked to your bandaged palm, and for a brief moment, something unreadable flashed across his face.

He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of his emotions. “You crossed a line, and now you’ll pay for it.”

He turned the revolver over in his hands, spinning the cylinder again. “Still, I’m a fair man,” he said lightly, his eerie composure returning. “I’m giving you a chance to fight for your lives. Call it... a game of fate.”

He stepped back, gesturing for them to begin. “Alright gentlemen, Rock-paper-scissors. Let’s see which one of you Fate favors tonight.”

You thrashed against the chair, your muffled screams filling the room as the two men looked at each other, their hands trembling.

“Come on now,” he said to the two men, his voice calm but icy. “You don’t want to keep me waiting.”

The two men exchanged panicked glances, their hands trembling as they raised them for the first round of rock-paper-scissors. Their fear was palpable, almost suffocating, but your attention wavered.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you struggled against the ropes, your heart hammering in your chest. Your mind was still reeling from his words.

You had felt it. The chill in the air when you walked home late at night, that unsettling sensation of eyes on you. But you had convinced yourself it was nothing—paranoia, the unease of being alone in the dark. Empty streets.

But now, hearing him speak of it so casually, the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. It was him.

The man in the suit. The one who had saved you, but not because he was some white knight. He had been stalking you. Watching you. Waiting.

Terror gripped you like icy fingers around your throat, the thought of being watched so intimately, without tour knowledge, like a puppet on strings. The idea that you had been under his control all this time, and you hadn’t even known it.

But something else—a feeling you didn’t want to admit—slithered into your thoughts. You had always been alone. Always. No family to speak of. No friends who cared enough to check in. No one who looked out for you.

It had always been you against the world, and the world had never been kind. No one ever stepped in when you were vulnerable. No one ever protected you. You had learned to fend for herself, to be cold and distant, to push people away before they could disappoint you.

But now...

As twisted and sick as it was, this man had done something you had never experienced in her life: he had protected you— in a sick way but still saved you.

His twisted sense of justice, his obsession with keeping you safe—however horrifying it was—was still protection. He was about to punish the men who had tried to hurt you, and in some sick way, he had kept you alive when no one else would.

Your mind recoiled from the realization, the very thought of feeling something in response to him made you sick to your stomach. But deep inside, beneath the fear, a small part of you couldn’t shake the strange, unsettling gratitude that bubbled up.

Your fists clenched in fury, torn between disgust and something you couldn’t quite name. No, you thought fiercely. This is wrong. He’s not saving me. He’s controlling me.

But then your thoughts returned to the dark alley, to the coldness of the men’s eyes, to the knife-edge of danger. And to him. The suited man. The one who had stepped in, the one who had acted.

As much as you hated to admit it, as much as it disgusted you to feel this, there was a part of you that wanted that. Wanted someone to care. Wanted someone to fight for you.

And you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

The room got suffocatingly silent except for the shallow, uneven breaths of the two men. Their trembling hands hovered in front of them, shaking as they raised them for the next round of rock-paper-scissors.

The first round began.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

One man threw rock, the other paper.

The loser flinched, his face pale as the suited man reached for the revolver and casually pointed it at his temple, a hint of amusement in his sharp, dark eyes.

Click.

The empty chamber echoed louder than any gunshot. The man slumped forward, relief flooding his features as he gasped for air.

The suited man’s expression didn’t change. “Next round.”

The second round came and went.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

The other man lost this time.

Click.

Another empty chamber.

The suited man sighed, his gaze dropping to the watch on his wrist. “How... tedious,” he muttered.

The third round began.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

Again, nothing. No gunshots, no blood, just the hollow sound of the revolver’s empty chamber.

You felt your heart pounding so hard it was like it would burst out of your chest. Every click was both a relief and a fresh torment, prolonging the nightmare.

The suited man straightened, his shoulders rolling as if to shake off his growing irritation. He turned toward the men, the smile that had been faintly lingering on his lips finally disappearing.

“This is growing dull,” he said, his voice cold and detached. He stepped closer to the table, placing one hand on the revolver. “It seems fate isn’t in the mood to entertain me tonight. So, let’s... spice things up.”

The two men froze, their fear amplifying as the suited man began calmly sliding bullets into the chambers of the revolver.

“One,” he said softly, pushing the first bullet into place.

Your stomach churned violently.

“Two.”

The suited man didn’t even look at you, his focus entirely on the gun.

“Three. Four.”

He stopped after the fifth bullet, snapping the cylinder back into place with a sharp click. He lifted the revolver and spun it lazily, the sound of the bullets shifting inside somehow more horrifying than the silence.

“There,” he said, his tone almost cheerful as he set the gun back on the table. “Now the rules have changed. The odds of survival aren’t five out of six anymore. They’re one out of six.”

The two men stared at him, their terror now paralyzing.

“Shall we continue?” he asked lightly, though the faint boredom in his tone made it clear he was no longer asking.

The next round began.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

The loser was trembling so badly while his sobs filled the room as he felt the gun pressed against his temple.

Your entire being screamed for him to stop, to refuse, but the suited man pulled the trigger.

The deafening bang shattered the air.

You froze as the man slumped in his chair, his lifeless body sagging forward. Blood sprayed across the room, staining the floor in violent red streaks.

The suited man didn’t even flinch. He adjusted his cufflinks as if nothing had happened, his gaze slowly turning toward you.

The suited man tilted his head, studying your reaction with mild curiosity. “Hmm,” he said softly, almost to himself. “I thought that might quiet you.”

He moved toward you with calm, measured steps, and your heart pounded harder with each one.

“You’ll understand soon,” he murmured as he crouched to meet your terrified gaze. His voice was low, almost soothing, but his eyes were sharp, unrelenting. “This is justice. This is control. And in time, you’ll come to see how necessary it is.”

His expression was unreadable, though a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

He reached for the duct tape covering your lips. “Let’s take this off, shall we?”

He peeled the tape away carefully, almost gently, as if he didn’t want to hurt you. You gasped as the air hit your chapped lips, your breathing ragged and panicked. You jerked your head away from his touch, your eyes burning with tears and fear.

But the suited man didn’t seem bothered by your reaction. Instead, he smiled softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture made you flinch.

“You’ve been so brave,” he said quietly, his voice soothing yet chilling. “But I can see the fear in your eyes. Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll help you.”

You stared at him, her throat dry. “Please… please stop this,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Oh, my dear. It’s already begun.”

Before you could react, he stepped behind you, his hands gripping the back of your chair. The scrape of wood against the floor sent shivers down your spine as he pushed you closer to the remaining man. Your heart pounded wildly, your breaths coming faster.

The man in front of you was shaking, tears streaming down his face as he muttered desperate prayers under his breath. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes, too consumed by his own terror.

Then, you felt it.

Something cold and heavy was pressed into your hand as the ropes on one of your wrists was loosened.

Your fingers instinctively curled around it, but it wasn’t until the suited man’s hands covered yours that you realized what it was. A gun.

“No,” you choked out, trying to pull your hand away. “No, I can’t—”

“Shhh.” His voice was soft, almost tender, as he leaned closer. You could feel his breath against your ear. “You can. And you will.”

He guided your hand, forcing the gun to point directly at the man’s head. His fingers were firm over yours, his grip unyielding.

“Do you know what they would have done to you?” he whispered, his tone darkening.

You froze, her breath hitching.

“They would’ve dragged you to some filthy basement,” he continued, his voice like poison dripping into your ears. “Used you. Hurt you. Made you beg for mercy they would never give. You know that, don’t you?”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your voice cracking. “Stop—please, stop—”

“And then,” he went on, his voice cold and calm, “they’d toss you aside like garbage when they were done. You wouldn’t have survived the night.”

His words twisted in your mind, planting seeds of fear and rage. You hated him for saying it, hated the sickening truth of it, but you couldn’t stop herself from imagining it. The alley. The men. The terror.

“No one would’ve come for you,” he said softly. “No one but me.”

Your breaths came in shallow gasps. Your hands were trembling so hard that the gun wavered, but the suited man’s firm grip steadied it, keeping it aimed at the man’s head.

“I’ve already done the hard part for you,” he murmured. “Now, all you have to do is pull the trigger. Take your revenge.”

“I can’t…” You whispered, shaking her head. “I can’t do it…”

His expression hardened, his patience wearing thin. “Do you think mercy will save him? Do you think letting him go will make him a better person? He won’t stop, Y/N. Men like him never stop.”

The man in the chair sobbed harder, his voice hoarse with fear. “Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll leave her alone, I swear—”

“Do you hear that?” the suited man hissed, his voice venomous. “Pathetic. He’s begging for his life, just like he would’ve made you beg for yours.”

Your vision blurred with tears. You shook your head again, but your resolve was crumbling. The suited man’s voice was relentless, worming its way into your mind, drowning out everything else.

“I can’t…” you whispered again, her voice barely audible.

“Don't make me wait, Y/N.” he said sharply, his tone now commanding. His grip on your hand tightened.

Before you could react, he pressed down on your finger, forcing it against the trigger.

The gunshot echoed like thunder in the room.

You screamed, the sound ripping from your throat as the man’s lifeless body slumped in the chair. Blood splattered across the floor and your face, the metallic scent filling the air.

The gun slipped from your hand, clattering to the ground as you trembled violently. Your chest heaved with sobs, your mind reeling.

The suited man straightened behind you, his expression calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.

“Bravo,” the suited man said, his voice slicing through your spiraling thoughts. He clapped his hands together slowly, deliberately, as if you’d just performed a flawless symphony. “You’ve taken your first step toward understanding. I’m so proud of you.”

He walked around to stand in front of you, crouching down to meet your tear-streaked gaze. “You did well, my dear. And don’t worry—I’ll take care of everything.” he said softly, brushing his fingers along your cheek.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. You could only stare at him, your entire body trembling with shock and horror.

His fingers gently tilted your chin up so you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze. His smile was soft, almost tender, but there was something unrelenting in his eyes. “You’re shaking,” he said softly, “That’s natural. The first time is always the hardest. But you did it, my dear. You stood up for yourself. You took control.”

He sighed, as if sensing your silence was not out of gratitude but out of pure, unfiltered shock. Straightening to his full height, his hands moved to the ropes binding you to the chair.

“I’m going to untie you now,” he said casually, as if you were discussing nothing more than an evening stroll. “But listen to me carefully, Y/N.”

His voice hardened, his tone dropping to something sharp and dangerous.

“Do not run.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding violently in your chest.

“I’ll warn you once,” he said in a low, icy whisper. “Not twice.”

The tension in the room was suffocating as he loosened the knots, and you felt the pressure on your wrists and ankles ease. The moment the ropes fell away, your instincts screamed at you to move.

You didn’t hesitate.

The second you were free, you bolted, ignoring the ache in your limbs and the burn in your lungs. You didn’t care where you were going—you just needed to get away from him.

The building was old and labyrinthine, the narrow hallways dimly lit by flickering bulbs. Door after door lined the walls, but every knob you twisted refused to budge. Your breaths came in panicked gasps as you stumbled forward, adrenaline fueling your desperate escape.

Finally, at the end of the hallway, you saw it: a door different from the others. It was larger, its frame sturdier, and unlike the others, it didn’t have the peeling paint or rusted hinges. It had to lead somewhere.

You sprinted toward it, your heart hammering in your chest. Your fingers barely brushed the doorknob when—

Bang!

You were slammed against the door with enough force to knock the breath out of you. A startled cry escaped your lips as you felt a firm hand on your shoulder, spinning you around. Your back pressed hard against the cold surface, and you were face to face with him once more.

The suited man loomed over you, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with a dangerous intensity. His hands rested on either side of you, boxing you in.

“I told you not to run,” he said softly, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge that sent shivers down your spine.

Your chest heaved as you stared up at him, your pulse racing. “Please—” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Just let me go!”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you with that same unsettling, calculated gaze. Then he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Go?” he echoed, his tone almost amused. “After everything we’ve been through tonight? After I’ve gone to such lengths to teach you an important lesson?”

Your hands trembled at your sides, your fight-or-flight instincts screaming for you to keep struggling, to push him away, to do something. But his presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and your body felt rooted to the spot.

“You can run all you want,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But you’ll always end up right where I want you.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Because you’re mine, Y/N. And I always take care of what’s mine.”

“There’s no running away anymore,” he continued quietly, his tone final, as if it were a simple statement of fact.

Your lips trembled, your voice breaking as you finally managed to speak. “W-Why me?”

He paused, tilting his head slightly, as if your question intrigued him.

“What do you mean, why you?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your fear bubbling into frustration. “Why are you doing this? Why did you—why did you choose me?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He simply studied you, his piercing gaze roaming your face as if searching for something. Then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“Do you remember the day you fell?” he asked, his voice smooth and quiet, as if he were recalling a fond memory.

You blinked, your mind reeling. “What?”

“In the park,” he continued, his tone almost gentle now. “A man running past knocked you down. You fell hard—scraped your hands, tore your jeans.” He chuckled softly, almost nostalgically. “You looked so startled. Like you couldn’t believe the world could be that cruel to you.”

Your heart sank as the memory surfaced in your mind. You remembered it vividly now—a busy afternoon at the park, the sting of gravel biting into your palms, the burn of embarrassment as strangers walked past without a second glance. But one person had stopped.

“You…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You were there.”

He nodded, his smile widening. “I was.”

“You helped me up…”

“And when I did,” he said, leaning in closer, “I saw something in you. Something different. Something I liked.”

Your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat. “What… what did you see?”

His eyes darkened, his expression soft yet deeply unsettling. “You looked… lost. Like you didn’t belong anywhere. Like you didn’t even expect someone to help you. And I thought to myself, ‘She’s perfect.’”

Your stomach churned, dread coiling tightly around your chest. “That’s it?” she whispered, your voice trembling. “That’s why you… why you’ve been following me?”

He chuckled again, the sound low and unnerving. “Does it matter?” he said lightly. “I made a choice that day. I promised myself I’d make you mine. And here we are.”

“But…” Your voice cracked, your fear and confusion spilling over. “It could’ve been anyone, couldn’t it? Anyone who fell, anyone who—”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, cutting you off. “But it wasn’t anyone. It was you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, their weight sinking into you like lead. The ease with which he dismissed your individuality, the casual indifference of his reasoning—it was more terrifying than anything else.

“Call it fate,” he said, his tone almost playful now. “Call it chance. Either way, I’m not one to waste an opportunity when it presents itself. And you, my dear… you were an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

He straightened, his smile softening as his hand brushed your cheek.

Your head snapped up, “So what? You’ll keep me as your prisoner?”

He tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Prisoner? No, no. You misunderstand. This isn’t about taking anything from you. It’s about giving you something you’ve never had.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowed.

“You’ve spent your whole life alone, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and almost sympathetic. “No friends. No one to lean on. No one to protect you.”

“I saw it the day we met,” he continued, his tone softening. “You were surrounded by people, but you might as well have been invisible. No one cared enough to help you when you fell. No one even noticed. But I did. I noticed you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ll never stop noticing you. I’ll never stop protecting you. Because you don’t need the world. You don’t need anyone but me.”

You stared at him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His words echoed in your mind, weaving through your thoughts like a siren’s song, drowning out the rational voice screaming at you to fight, to resist.

Your entire life had been spent searching for someone to notice you, to care, to see you. And now, standing before you, was someone who had done all of that—even if it was in the most twisted and terrifying way imaginable.

Your lips parted, trembling as you tried to find something to say, anything that could defy the pull of his gaze, the weight of his words. But you couldn’t. You were tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of being alone.

And for the first time, someone wasn’t letting you go.

“I…” Your voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I’ll… stay.”

The words tasted foreign on your tongue, and yet, the moment they left your lips, a dark satisfaction flickered across his face. He stepped closer, his movements fluid and deliberate, until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice shaking as your walls began to crumble.

His thumb slid across your bottom lip, and his smile softened, though the dark intensity in his eyes remained.

Before you could react, his lips captured yours, gentle at first, as though testing your resolve. You froze, your body stiff, but as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, something inside you broke. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved against yours—it was too much, too overwhelming.

And so, you let yourself fall.

Your hands hesitantly reached for him, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back, your movements unsteady and unsure. He deepened the kiss, his control unyielding, as if claiming you with every brush of his lips.

When he pulled back slightly, your breaths mingling in the small space between you, he whispered, “You’ll see, Y/N. You won’t need anyone else. Not when you have me.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his hand trailed down your arm, his touch light but deliberate. He guided you gently toward another room which had a completely different atmosphere. A high ceiling decorated by a beautiful chandelier and a king sized bed, neatly dressed.

When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, you sat down, your heart pounding in your chest as he knelt before you. His movements slow, giving you every chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

His hands found your thighs, his touch warm and firm as he looked up at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me show you what that means.”

Your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, but your body betrayed you, your hands sliding into his hair as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck.

His hands roamed your body with practiced ease, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. And as his lips traced a path down your skin, you felt yourself slipping further into his control, your resolve crumbling with every kiss, every touch.

For the first time in your life, someone had made you feel seen, wanted, protected—even if it was twisted and wrong.

And so, as you let him guide you into the dark embrace of his world, you made a silent promise to herself.

You would stay.

For now.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

You Are In Love

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✯ pairing:  Sebastian Vettel x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

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Her relationships always seemed to have an expiration date—a rapid ascent, like a rocket, followed by an inevitable crash, gravity grounding what had been weeks of euphoric floating. The cycle repeated itself, a perpetuation of fleeting highs and a final, definitive ick that always ended it.

Romantic love, she had come to realize, was so different from its non-romantic counterpart. One was a firework—intense, intoxicating, but ultimately brief—while the other was a candle, steady and enduring. Perhaps the movies never showed the happily ever after because it didn’t truly exist, she often thought.

And then she started dating Sebastian. Gosh, Sebastian. His copious traveling meant the relationship grew at a slow pace—painfully slow, even. But there were calls, messages, and hours of conversation that built something she hadn’t expected.

After a year together, she braced herself for the crash, for the inevitable descent. Yet it never came. Instead, on a day that had drained her entirely, when she called him trying to sound okay but failing miserably, he noticed immediately. And it hit her, in a way that almost left her breathless—he had become her best friend.

That very same night, after what had been an undeniably gloomy day, she decided to do something wildly impulsive, the kind of romantic gesture that only ever seemed to happen in movies. It felt ridiculous, but it also felt right. Without overthinking it, she booked a late-night flight to the city where the race was taking place. The flight was painfully long—long enough for her to stare out the window, sleep-deprived and questioning every ounce of her decision-making. “Why am I doing this?” she muttered under her breath, smirking at her own absurdity.

With the hotel name and room number handed over by his ever-resourceful assistant—a detail that felt straight out of a rom-com—she finally arrived. By the time she reached the hotel, it was late. Her body screamed for rest, her eyelids heavy and betraying her exhaustion, but she kept pushing forward, driven by something she couldn’t quite explain.

And then there he was, standing in the doorway, his wide, disbelieving grin lighting up his face like the sunrise. “What are you doing here?” he asked, immediately pulling her into his arms without hesitation.

Her head found its home on his shoulder as her body melted into his embrace. The sheer warmth of his presence—and maybe a surge of dopamine—momentarily erased the exhaustion.

“I just felt like it,” she said softly, her voice laced with sleepiness.

He chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to comprehend the spontaneity. “You just felt like it?” he repeated, his laughter bubbling over. “You’re unbelievable.”

Sebastian’s grin softened as he stepped back and took her hand, leading her into the room without a word. She followed, her feet dragging slightly, exhaustion evident in every movement.

“You must be tired,” he said as he closed the door behind them, his voice low but still carrying that unmistakable warmth.

“A little,” she admitted, though her yawn gave her away.

Sebastian chuckled and, without much thought, tugged her gently toward the bed. She didn’t resist, letting him guide her as she kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the soft covers. He followed her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight as he settled in beside her, lying on his back with one arm stretched out.

She instinctively curled into his side, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat grounding her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close, as her body relaxed completely for the first time in hours.

“You know,” she said softly, “I realized something, and don’t let it get to your head, but I think you’re my best friend,” she admitted with a gentle smile.

“What?” he chuckled, clearly confused, “Are you friendzoning your own boyfriend?”

She giggled, shaking her head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. “I mean, apart from being my amazing and beloved boyfriend, you’ve also become my best friend,” she explained, her smile warm.

He raised an eyebrow, teasing. “You just realized this after a year of dating?”

She nudged him playfully, rolling her eyes. “What I mean is that I’ve never felt anything like this before,” she said, her tone affectionate. “Like ever.”

Sebastian’s teasing grin softened into something more genuine as he looked down at her, his fingers brushing absentmindedly along her arm. “Well, I’m honored,” he said with a mock seriousness that earned another small giggle from her.

“I’m being serious,” she insisted, though the warmth in her voice betrayed the smile tugging at her lips.

“I know,” he murmured, his expression softening even further. “And I like it. Hearing that.”

She let her head rest on his chest again, her smile lingering as his steady breathing soothed her. “Like I think this is the first time I have truly been in love,” she said.

Sebastian’s chest rose and fell beneath her as she traced small, lazy circles on his shirt with her fingertip, her mind spinning with thoughts she couldn’t keep to herself any longer.

“You know,” she started softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t think I ever really knew what romantic love was supposed to feel like until you.”

Sebastian stilled for a moment, his hand pausing in its soothing motion along her back, before continuing again, gentle and steady. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone calm but curious, inviting her to say more.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Gosh, I sound so cheesy,” she chuckled, “but what I mean is I doubt I’ve ever fallen truly in love before.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his hand stilling briefly on her arm before he shifted to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Then I’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his voice tinged with something almost reverent.

She let out a soft laugh, the sound laced with affection. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He grinned faintly, his lips brushing against her hair as he held her closer. “I know,” he teased, his tone playful but warm.

“But I mean it,” she said, her voice quieter now.

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✯ authors note: I just started watching Sex and the City and I thought this scene was too cute:

English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

[nonranghaes]

heads up: plus size!fem!reader having an off day (body image issues). reader gets called beautiful.

the feeling slips underneath your skin before you've even realized its hit you. this visceral discomfort, starting in your stomach and taking hold a little too easily. you shrink into yourself, and try to minimize yourself as much as you can today...

and seungcheol, ever the observant one when it comes to you, picks up on it. he waits until you sit back down at the end of the couch before he crawls over, hand coming to turn your face to his as he kisses you.

"hi, beautiful." he murmurs against your lips, already moving in to press soft kisses against your skin for a moment. it's his little way of reminding you that he loves you, but he draws away soon enough to get a better look at you. his hair falls into his eyes a little. "do you want to talk about it?"

you let out a groan, sinking down further into the couch cushions. "you know me too well."

he chuckles. "it's my job. did someone say something? or is it just one of those days?" one of his hands comes to rest at your side, and you nearly shrink away. "honey--"

you let out a sigh. "sorry."

"if you don't want me to touch you, i won't." he adjusts so that he's sitting next to you, careful not to cross a line. "i get it. but you know i'll always think you're beautiful. you've seen me at my worst and you're still here."

his worst is the time seungcheol had the flu a few years back and was miserable for a week. you've always insisted that he gets a free pass when he's sick (he still does, even to this date), but he's always been open about how pathetic that week alone made him feel. like he was crossing a line showing you that side of him so soon. you think it's sweet he let you take care of him (he takes care of you, too, after all). he's seen you sick plenty of times, and he hasn't run away so far...

you just reach out, brushing his hair back from his face. "i think... i need some time to get my thoughts together. and then we'll talk it out. okay?"

"okay." he leans over to kiss you, on instinct, but stops himself short. "if that's what you need."

you just close the distance, nose brushing against his own as you kiss him. "for what it's worth... you're very handsome yourself, my sweet."

seungcheol chuckles, pressing a long, lingering kiss against your cheek before he pulls you into his arms. with a blissful sigh, he curls around you, content already to hold you close. his voice is soft, enough that you don't think he actually means to say it out loud: "we match, then..."

at least you have each other on your bad days. you think you'd rather stay right here than run anyhow: his arms are infinitely warmer to stay in.

[mimi-fy]

Why these scenes are so important to understand the relationship between j*mmy and curly

(Ik the quality is shit, sue me.)

In another theory i wrote there is a re-up game of mouthwashing called how fish is made, there is a special relationship between a fish and a parasite. There is a dying fish as seen above, the thing in its mouth isn’t its tounge it’s a louse. The dying fish being curly and the louse being jimmy, what the louse does is that it attaches itself to a fish. It eats away the fishes tongue and becomes the new tongue for the fish, it basically now freeloads off the fish. Eating all of the food for the fish and leaving only scraps for the main body/fish to eat causing the fish to slowly die. This can easily be interpreted as the true friendship of curly and jimmy. Curly is responsible has good reputation, got the job for jimmy, but jimmy just freeloads off of curly. And takes advantage of the fact that they’ve known each other for along time. Jimmy becomes curlys tongue because jimmy can easily manipulate curly and put words in his mouth, his manipulation is proved successful when curly still trusts him after what jimmy did, and trusts him to take care of it. Jimmy becomes curlys new tongue after curly is unable to be captain. He puts words in curlys mouth and gives the words to others ‘hes the one who crashed the ship’ ‘he’d want me to be captain’ so jimmy steps in as captain. But hes just a tongue, hes all say and no do. And the things he says are horrible and not even kind or comforting to anyone. The fish and parasite are seen as friends and go way back (said by the parasite) that the parasite ate his tounge and they’ve been coworkers ever since. Also jimmy and curly have known each other for a lengthy time. The eating of another tongue, can mean that the parasite now acts for the body that the parasite is incharge and the fish doesn’t know it. Meaning that, jimmy is incharge, its jimmy world and not curlys. This is a very logical relationship as we get a scene where we are crawling through curlys mouth, meaning that we (jimmy) are a parasite that latched onto curlys mouth and have came out after along time. To the point where jimmy has ruined his mouth and curly can no longer talk or choose something for himself. He has came out to finally take charge and responsibility and can no longer free load. He came out and now sees the rotting corpse of the fish (rotting body of curly) and sees how he deprived curly, how he caused this. So why did Jimmy become curlys ‘tongue’? At the end of the first part of how fish is made we get a unique dialogue that can be assumed as jimmy talking. ‘I always hated hearing.(jimmy)’ ‘Alot of people are going through the same thing. You’re not alone.(curly)’This is possible that curly is comforting jimmy after jimmy committed a crime/has addiction problems. To which jimmy replies ‘no! My pain is more tragic, grander! Deeper! If only you knew.’ Jimmy acting like a victim. Then follows up in his own head or in voice ‘that’s not true of course. I hate talking about it. Because i hate people who talk about it. And that’s not very nice, that’s not okay, that’s not how you can be about all this (this crime or mistakes)’ jimmy hates people who talks about his mistakes. That can be curly. Curly knows about jimmys mistakes but still sees him as his friend. But curly comforts him and talks to him about it to which jimmy hates. So jimmy uses it to his advantage and acts like a victim, clinging to curly. And curly who feels too bad to let him go after seeing jimmys ‘struggle of a life’. Jimmy became curlys tongue, so curly couldn’t speak about his mistakes. To also take power over others and make curly take responsibility instead of jimmy taking responsibility. Which explains why he snaps as curly can no longer take charge for him after the crash.

Edit! This theory can be really back up because at the party scene jimmy is seen putting words in curlys mouth when he says that hes trying to leave them behind in the dirt but that’s not what curly meant at all but jimmy was just putting bs in curlys mouth acting like his tongue.

Thx for reading if you like my content i have another analysis’s about the connection from how fish is made to mouthwash down bellow! (The ending also mentioned something about a usp but i cant find out what i stands for)