#what the fuck was I even humming. like yeah I was humming to Some beat but WHICH.

[chilapis]

WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK

[rafey-baby]

bf!rafe making his girl feel better after a particularly long day...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being big and comforting, cockwarming, use of daddy

wc: 480

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

She's been particularly emotional and sensitive for the entire day because life is so hard and sometimes she just feels so hopeless; feels like a complete failure who can't do anything right.  

“Rafe, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just feel so fucking miserable sometimes. And I’m just so tired all the time,” she sniffles into his chest.

“Shh, there’s nothing wrong with you, alright? Just feeling a little overwhelmed, yeah?” He’s murmuring softly in her hair as she sobs, crocodile tears soaking his shirt.

“You’re all good. I’m here, Sweetheart. It’s just me, Rafe, alright?" His gentle voice reassures her, making her nuzzle her face into the crease of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

"There you go, just let it out, I’ve got you,” he settles a warm palm on her back, drawing lazy circles and smoothing a warm hand over her thigh. Big strong arms cage her to his body and he just holds her as she weeps, all exhausted and forlorn.

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. Just needed a cry, hm?” His steady heartbeat and breathing is starting to calm her down some as she rests her head on his chest, listening. And when she stops crying for a bit he mumbles tenderly. “There we go, just needed your Daddy, yeah?” 

“Rafe…” she whines out, still so restless he’s not sure how to pacify her until he feels her rocking in his lap, mindlessly rutting against the bulge in his pants. Soon enough he’s hard because how is he meant to help it when she’s gazing up at him with tear soaked eyes and swollen lips?

She just looks so pretty that he gets a desperate itch to squeeze her weakened form in his solid hands all over until she’s squealing, begging for him to stop with hearty giggles bubbling out of her throat.

"Don't worry that little head of yours so much, alright? Breaks m'heart. But I'll make it better for you," he mutters as he takes himself out; tucking his cock in her needy cunt, making her despondent crying come to a halt. He's always such a snug fit between her gummy walls and now he just stays there, stretching her out and making her feel so full.

And it works.

Her eyes cloud over some, erratic breathing evening out as she turns into something mellow, placid in his firm hold, making him smile. “That’s what you needed, huh? Just needed Daddy to stuff his cock in you, yeah?”

And she’s humming, whining, brain mushy as she wraps her hands around his sturdy abdomen and rests her head on his chest; his measured respiration and the steady beating of his heart soothing her, making her sleepy.

“There you go, Sweetheart. You’re all good. I’m right here, not going anywhere, alright?” he placates her as her eyes finally flutter shut.

[ba9go]

(nsfw) bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (you drive him crazy)

mdni 🔞 katsuki being down bad for reader. heavy petting with a lot of sexual tension! 🫢

can be read with part 1 and part 2, or as a standalone too

after coming to terms with his feelings for you, bakugou thought that things would get simpler for him.

he was wrong. very wrong.

the two of you started spending more and more time together. eating lunch together, visiting each other's room after school, going to the gym together.

at some point, bakugou became "katsuki" to you.

"kat-su-ki," you said slowly, dragging his name out as if every syllable was meant to irk him. bakugou freezes, sitting cross-legged in front of you on your bed.

"katsuki." you repeat, watching him carefully with a small, tentative smile that makes his palms annoyingly sweaty. "is that okay?"

"yeah." bakugou, no, katsuki, clears his throat, and runs a hand through his hair. "katsuki's fine."

you ask katsuki to spend the night in your dorm room, and though katsuki disagrees with you calling it a sleepover (to him, it's not a sleepover unless there are face masks and pillow fights involved, but he's not telling you that) katsuki finds it hard to say no to you.

later, you fall asleep in his arms, breathing softly against his chest, and katsuki thinks he's going to die from how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage.

he stares into the darkness and tries to fall asleep, but all he can think about is how soft you feel against his body and the way your warm breath gave him goosebumps when you whispered "goodnight, katsuki" into his neck.

katsuki thinks you’ve ruined his own name for him, because now he doesn’t want to hear it unless it’s coming from you. and god, the things he would do to hear you say his name, over and over and over again.

katsuki wants to. he wants so badly, to make you say his name over and over again, and he thinks it would be so easy to do too. you’re easy to fluster, easy to tease. katsuki wants to make you come apart at his touch, under him. katsuki wants to take you, piece by piece, wants to watch the way you unravel before him.

it gets worse when you started stealing katsuki’s shirts.

katsuki’s heart damn near burst when he came back to his room after the gym to see you cuddled up in his bed, completely engulfed in one of his shirts. he closed the door behind him quietly and stared at your peaceful sleeping face. ‘this must be what cuteness aggression feels like’, katsuki thinks, as he’s hit with the sudden urge to reach over and bite your face off.

he feels stupid, sneaking around in his own room as he tries his best not to wake you and fails miserably. he freezes as you stir awake, sitting up in his bed. your hair is sticking out in ways that katsuki wants to make fun of you for, but he’s too transfixed on the little yawn you let out as you stretch like a content house cat on his bed.

“katsuki,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes groggily. you smile at katsuki and it’s so sleepy and a little droopy and it drives katsuki fucking crazy, and you don’t even know it. god, you piss him off.

“you’re back,” you say sweetly. “you gonna shower?”

“i should shower,” katsuki responds, but makes no move to prepare for said shower. instead, he walks over to his bed, to you, and you open your arms invitingly and how could katsuki ever deny you?

he lets you wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face into his chest. he’s still sweaty from working out, but here you are, nuzzling into his shirt, again like a damn cat that’s all too affectionate. you hum happily when katsuki pats your head.

“you smell so good,” you moan the words into his shirt. it’s innocent, but it drives katsuki insane all the same. he can never think straight when it comes to you, not when you’re all he can think about. his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and he never knows what to do with himself.

“i’m dirty,” katsuki’s throat is so dry when he chokes out the words.

“so?” you giggle as you look up at him with big, happy eyes, and katsuki is fully reduced to putty in your hands. he’s wrapped around your pretty little finger. “i like it when you’re dirty.”

“yeah?” katsuki lets his hand fall to your neck. he holds your neck gently, barely even squeezing, but the effect it has on you is instantaneous. you become almost limp in his hold, eyes half-lidded as you let out a shaky sigh from your parted lips.

“‘suki,” you whisper. “come here,” you say, but you already have him in your arms, so katsuki presses his lips against yours instead.

katsuki never really knows what to do when it comes to you; he just knows how much he wants you, how you drive him crazy with want, so he listens to those desires until he has you moaning into his mouth when he sucks on your tongue, until he has you rutting your hips back and forth when he slips a leg between your thighs, until he has you coming apart the way he’s always fantasised.

“thank you, ‘suki,” you sound so pretty breathless and it makes katsuki want to steal your breath away even more. “feels so good.” katsuki realises that you’re still grinding against him and it’s so, so adorable.

“yer so annoyin’,” katsuki scolds you lightly, but the smirk on his face is anything but annoyed as he slips a hand between your legs and touches you properly, right where you need it most.

it’s so fucking annoying, the way you drive him insane, but watching you twitch and writhe under him, listening to you beg and moan, so pretty and needy for him, katsuki thinks it’s not so bad, being batshit crazy for you.

maybe part 4. i need to write a bratty yn who loves talking smack just to piss kats off so he’ll fuck em harder 🤪🤪

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty

➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him

tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.

humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”

“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”

“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”

“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.

the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 

“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”

logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 

you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 

oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.

“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.

“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.

“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”

you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.

“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”

“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 

“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”

“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 

“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.

“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”

“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”

“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”

“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”

you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”

was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.

it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.

“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 

“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”

“...really?”

“yes, come on.” 

you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.

“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 

“are you okay?” 

“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.

he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”

“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)

logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.

the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”

are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.

“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”

“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.

are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 

you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 

trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.

he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 

it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.

you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 

“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.

“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog w/ jeong yunho

pt2

you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell

the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring

unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night

after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’

the family that live upstairs aren’t great either

the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on

your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you

they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face

usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them

they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point

it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord

not exactly a threat, but not not one

maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day

you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him

“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”

mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time

he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car

it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though

“what about a guar—”

“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”

it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend

“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”

again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole

“i can’t aff—”

“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”

it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious

perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue

“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”

he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit

you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it

“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”

“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in

“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer

he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation

still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence

a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep

nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation

and then your doorbell rings

you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google

you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour

not anyone you recognise for that matter

your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face

a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention

that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open

“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you

“who are you?” is the only response you can

“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place

mingi, that bastard

“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with

“well, someone did.”

he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him

maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home

they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own

it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people

it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling

you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand

“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him

“yunho,” he sighs

it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself

one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…

seriously, fuck song mingi

“well i’m—”

“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”

you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn

something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to

“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”

“how dare you, i—”

“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child

it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back

there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here

“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer

he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head

“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”

“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”

“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”

it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname

if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little

“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously

“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”

he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes

you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you

“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”

[sleepy-steve]

pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡

—

november 1984

Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.

Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”

“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”

Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”

They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”

Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.

“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”

Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”

Steve snorts. “He is.”

“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”

Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”

A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”

Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.

“How many times have you died, Harrington?”

“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”

He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”

Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”

“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”

“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.

“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.

“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”

The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.

“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.

“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.

“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.

Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.

“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”

“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.

Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.” 

Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.

“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”

The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”

It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”

Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.

“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.

“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.

Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.

“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.

“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”

“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.

But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”

Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.

“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.” 

He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?

Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.

Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.

Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”

“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.

“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”

“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”

“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.

“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.

Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.

[littlelamy]

party fun

pairing: bsf!rafe x vixen!reader

The low hum of conversation and music fills the air, laughter echoing off the walls as you try to keep up with the man in front of you, who’s telling some story you barely register. Your eyes keep wandering, scanning the room—until you see him. Rafe stands across the room, his gaze unwavering, intense, zeroed in on you with a focus that makes your pulse skip a beat. He doesn’t look away, and the longer he stares, the more you feel a mix of excitement and a hint of nervousness settle over you.

Just then, your companion reaches out to touch your arm, chuckling as he leans in closer, but before he finishes his sentence, you feel a firm hand clasp around your wrist. You turn, heart racing, to find Rafe standing right there, closer than you thought, his expression hard.

“Fuck off dude. She's with me,” he says, his voice low and clipped, eyes fixed on the guy next to you. Rafe’s tone leaves no room for argument, and within seconds, the man mumbles something, backing away with a quick nod. Your heart pounds as Rafe’s hand stays wrapped around your wrist, his grip both protective and possessive. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he pulls you gently but firmly through the crowd, leading you down a hallway to an empty bathroom, his jaw tight, eyes blazing.

Without a word, he closes the door behind him, his fingers still laced with yours as he turns to face you. His breathing is heavy, and there’s an unmistakable fire in his gaze.

“Rafe…” you start, but he cuts you off, his hand lifting to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. He’s watching you like he’s seeing you for the first time, his eyes filled with that intensity you can’t resist.

“Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?” he murmurs, his voice rough and strained. “Watching you out there with him… seeing him so fucking close to you…” He shakes his head, as though he’s trying to rein in his own emotions, but there’s a small, dangerous smirk on his lips. “God, Vixen, you’re gonna drive me fucking crazy.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s deep and consuming, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close. The kiss is possessive, almost desperate, and it takes your breath away, your hands automatically reaching up to grip his shoulders as he holds you there, pouring everything he feels into the way his mouth moves against yours.

You let out a quiet moan against his lips, feeling his hold on you tighten as he pulls you even closer. He lifts you onto the counter with ease, standing between your legs, his hands on either side of your waist as his mouth explores yours with a passion that makes your heart race. His hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath.

“Say my name,” he murmurs, his voice low and intense, eyes dark as they search yours. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, and a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his fingers tracing a slow line down your arm, sending a shiver through you. “That’s what I thought.” His gaze drops, his thumb grazing over your collarbone, the barest hint of a smirk as he watches your reaction.

Your breathing is ragged, your pulse racing, and he notices every little movement, every shift, the way your body reacts to his touch. His hand slides down, fingers brushing over your skin with a deliberate slowness that leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “So fucking perfect. All… mine.” There’s a possessive edge to his words that makes your heart skip, a thrill rushing through you as he kisses the side of your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder with agonizing slowness.

You can barely breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he moves his mouth along your skin. “Daddy…” The name comes out as a soft moan, and he pauses, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“Say it again,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for question. His hands move up, cupping your face, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that leaves you feeling bare, exposed. “I want to fucking hear it.”

“Daddy,” you whisper, and he grins, that smirk of his returning as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that’s slower this time, savoring, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You’re all I want,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands tracing over your sides, fingers skimming the fabric of your top in a way that makes your skin tingle, every nerve alive under his touch. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to be here.” His hands slide lower, gripping your waist firmly, possessively, and he leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Only me. You got that?”

“Yes,” you manage, your voice barely a breath as he watches you, his gaze softening just slightly, a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hands moving up your back, holding you close as he kisses you again, deep and slow. His touch, the way his hands move over your skin, leaves you dizzy, overwhelmed, every thought fading away until there’s only him, his hands, his mouth, his breath mingling with yours.

The kiss deepens, his hands tracing over your body in a way that makes your breath hitch, and you feel his fingers slide over your chest, moving with a deliberate slowness that leaves you wanting more. You let out a soft moan, unable to hold it back, and he pulls back just slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he watches you.

“More?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver through you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, unable to look away, your voice barely a whisper as you nod. He grins, that smug, possessive smile, and his lips are on yours again, his hands moving over your body with a gentleness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes.

“Say you’re mine, Vixen,” he whispers, his mouth against yours, his voice barely above a murmur. “I want to fucking hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Rafe,” you reply, your voice shaking with the weight of it, and he lets out a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he kisses you harder, deeper, as if he’s pouring every bit of emotion into it, every unspoken word, every feeling he can’t put into words.

And in that moment, there’s nothing else—just you, him, and the overwhelming need that leaves you breathless, wanting him more than anything else.

Rafe’s hands are on you again, relentless in their exploration, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of your skin. The way his fingers trail over your waist, down your sides, makes your pulse race, each touch sending shivers that start deep within you. He’s leaning in, his breath hot against your neck, lips brushing lightly over your skin as he hums in approval.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rough, eyes dark and intent as he looks down at you, his fingers still gently grazing the fabric of your top. Without breaking eye contact, he pulls the material up slightly, just enough to expose the curve of your tits. His gaze flickers down, a satisfied smile curling on his lips.

“I can’t get enough of you, Vixen,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. His fingers trace a delicate line along the edge of your top, then slide to where the fabric gathers, pulling it tighter in his hands, teasing. The motion sends a spike of electricity through your body, your breath catching in your throat as his touch lingers just a little too long, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

“Rafe…” Your voice cracks, breathless from the way his hands are making you feel—he’s not gentle, but there’s a tenderness in the way he moves with you, as if each touch is a claim, a promise.

He meets your eyes again, and there’s that fire in his gaze, the same fire that makes your heart beat erratically, makes your body ache for more. His hands find the curve of your waist, fingers curling in, pulling you toward him, pressing you against him with a force that feels both protective and possessive.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice low and husky, as he slides his hands up, finding the soft curve of your chest. He pauses there, his thumb brushing over your nipples, slow and deliberate, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

Your body reacts before you can think, your chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, every nerve alight with the sensation of him, of his touch. The way his hands move, gentle but firm, makes your mind go blank. You nod, just once, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the overwhelming need for him.

Rafe’s lips curl into a small, satisfied grin as his fingers press with a subtle insistence, his touch shifting, teasing, sending sharp waves of heat rushing through you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa

[mangostarjam]

breakfast options — haikyuu, miya osamu x f!reader, neighbors au, set a little before the timeskip, just some soft fluffy fluff, 1.4k words

Miya Osamu wakes up to the early dawn light knowing two things.

One: That was the best sleep he's had in months.

Two: This is not his bed.

The sheets are softer — the bed is narrower and pushed up against a wall — and it smells like fresh laundry detergent when Osamu knows for a fact that he hasn't lugged his laundry to the machines downstairs in weeks.

This is not his bed. This isn't even his room or his apartment. The biggest, most obvious clue nuzzles into his chest and sighs.

Osamu's arm tightens around you automatically.

He's so fucked.

Your bare legs are pressed up against his own and you're so soft and warm and relaxed, breathing deeply in sleep, utterly unconcerned about the fact that your neighbor somehow got into your apartment and into your bed with you. Osamu can feel the barest sliver of skin beneath his fingers as your shirt rises and wonders how much his ma will yell at him for messing up this badly with you.

"Mm… 'Samu…?"

He's so fucked.

"Yeah?"

"Why're you awake?"

Osamu can't help the fond huff that escapes his lips and you bury your face further into his chest. He wonders if you can feel the taiko drum beat of his heart in your dreams.

You sniff and your fingers curl into his shirt. "Now I'm awake," you complain quietly, voice muffled in his chest. "Did you need to go to work or something? You seemed so tired last night. Sleep a lil' longer."

"Hey… did I… did I get the wrong door? Last night?" His voice is scratchy, but you don't seem to mind. You shiver a little in his hold and he automatically tugs you closer.

"Hmm…?" It takes a moment as you think through the sleep fog of your mind. Osamu can hear the distant click of your refrigerator humming and the chirp of birds waking up outside.

"You used your spare key and scared the heck out of me," you mumble, shoulders shaking as you snicker at the memory. Osamu wishes he could see your face — well, maybe not. His own cheeks are burning with mortification. "You were like a zombie, Miya-kun."

Something in his stomach swoops with disappointment at the return of honorifics. But — you still haven't untangled yourself from him, and you seem perfectly content to lay here with his arms around you, so maybe — ?

"Sorry 'bout that," he murmurs. "I musta been more wiped than I thought."

"You need to take care of yourself," you scold lightly, finally peeking up at his face. Your eyes widen when they meet his, and for some strange reason you immediately reach up to cover your mouth. Osamu's stomach clenches with hurt. It's not like he was planning on kissing you right now — not after practically breaking into your apartment and commandeering your bed.

And especially not if you don't want him to. Not if you're hiding from him like this.

"Sorry," you mumble. Your gaze feels intentional. Osamu wonders vaguely if he has drool on his cheek. "I don't want you to smell my morning breath."

It's silent for a moment. The two of you breathe in unison as Osamu stares down at you, incredulous, until you break the connection and bury your face in his chest again. "Oy."

"I'm going back to sleep."

That makes him laugh. His body jostles yours and you twist around defensively, nearly dislodging his hold as he clamps his arm back around your waist. "Miya-kun," you mumble. He can hear the pout in your voice, even if he can't see it. "Let's go back to sleep."

"There's no way I'm fallin' back asleep like this," Osamu says.

"What's wrong?"

Nothing's wrong. This is everything he's wanted with you for the past few years, ever since he first saw you go wide eyed over the neighborly bento he held out to you, the delight in your huge grin only growing when you looked up and met his eye.

It's been days and months and years since then, time filled with fond teasing over textbooks, quiet secrets whispered over cups of coffee way too late at night, grocery shopping together and trying out gimmicky snacks that stained your lips blue. You're his neighbor, his friend, his staunch supporter.

His classmate, a few times, when your schedules aligned in university. His coworker, sometimes, when you volunteer yourself to help him with his stall at various events around the city.

But that's it. Or — that was it, until you started getting touchier and clingier and Osamu's hopes spiraled higher and higher.

"'Samu? Did you fall back asleep?"

Osamu presses his face into your hair. He can be weak just this once, right? It's still too early to confess — his business doesn't even have a storefront yet, he hasn't made a name for himself yet — and you deserve someone with all that and more.

"Nah," he says quietly, "I'm up."

"Don't get any ideas," you mumble sleepily. "I haven't had a man in my bed in years, so if I punch you later it's 'cause I forgot about last night."

This shouldn't make him so happy. He hides his smile in your hair. He's been so busy lately it's been hard trying to figure out if you've had anyone over, though your apartment has always only shown signs of one occupant. He didn't want to assume.

"Why didn't ya kick me out?"

"That'd be cruel and unusual," you scoff. Your fingers curl over his forearm before sliding to his hand. Osamu's breath catches for just a second as you begin playing with his fingers, seemingly oblivious to how the temperature beneath the blankets has ratcheted up several degrees.

"You can kick me out now, ya know," Osamu offers half heartedly. At least he can safely tell his ma that he tried.

You bring his hand up to your lips and his heart just about stops. Softly — so softly — you press a kiss to his palm and then his wrist, featherlight touches that have every nerve ending standing at attention. Osamu shifts his hips away guiltily, resisting the urge to press up into you, heart slamming back into rhythm at full force.

"You'd leave without having breakfast first?"

"You'd let me make ya breakfast?"

You bite the tip of his finger and he bites back a groan. "Do you always make your girls breakfast the morning after?"

Osamu frowns. He wants to see your face. "There's never been a girl or a morning after."

"Oh." You hum thoughtfully, pressing his fingertip to your lips, entirely unaware of the silent battle Osamu is waging against his own body behind you. "So I'll be the first?"

"You're the only one it's ever gonna be."

Stupid. Osamu can practically hear his twin yelling at him to just confess already.

He can feel the curve of your smile against his palm as you press another featherlight kiss there. "I'll keep waiting, then," you say quietly, voice muffled against his skin.

You shift and turn back to face him, putting a few precious inches between your bodies as you blink up at him in the slowly brightening light. Osamu can't help staring, memorizing the gentle curve of your smile and the softness in your sleepy gaze. His heart feels like it's threatening to burst out of his chest, joy expanding like bubbles in his ribcage.

"What d'ya want for breakfast?"

Your smile grows crooked.

"I want an omelet this time."

Osamu can feel his own lips tugging up in the corners. "And next time?"

"Hmm. How about a breakfast onigiri?"

A laugh escapes his lips and his grin only grows wider with your answering giggle. "I can do that for ya."

"What about a kiss?"

Your eyes are sparkling in the light and he — he wants to say "yes" — but then your expression falls and you hold up a hand suddenly. "Wait, I take that back," you explain quickly, "I need to brush my teeth first."

Osamu laughs. He tugs you closer, an arm heavy around your waist, anchoring you back into him even as you whine. "You're gonna hafta get used to this," he points out smugly.

You slap your hands over your mouth and glare halfheartedly at him. "No way."

"It's alright, darlin'," he says. You blink as his gaze steadies on yours. Osamu wonders if you have any idea that you look at him like this — like he's special, and deserving, and like you trust him with everything. He's tried for months now to pretend he doesn't see it, scared to get his hopes up too high, but now?

Now he hopes you'll always look at him like this. "I won't make you wait much longer."

[6okuto]

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS

gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna

KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.

HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.

SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”

SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[cherry-leclerc]

don’t lock the door ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, humor, smut, angst, thriller/suspense, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of homicide, erotic literature, tragedy

word count: 9k

An oleander is beautiful—yet deadly. You’re beautiful—yet deadly. But Carlos has always been gentle, and has always known how to take care of things he loves. And even if he doesn’t, he’s willing to learn, just for you. But you can’t outrun secrets. Not when they have everything to do with the only thing he adores—you.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... fingering, riding, car sex

STOP AND READ:

The story you are about to read is not meant to be admired or looked up to. Regularly, the types of fics that I like to present to all of you are light, humorous, and sweet. While I feel that this story does have occasional glimpses of that, it also deals with heavy topics such as; suicide, depression, and homicide. At the end of the day, I care about all my readers, so if any of you feel like this is not something for you then you are always welcomed to head over to my masterlist for much lighter reads. You all know me by now, so you must know that sometimes I like to mix a story of traditional love with a dash of real life struggles, such as trauma and guilt, in this case. With that, I hope you enjoy word for word.

cherry here!...did you miss me????

Tension is normally one’s enemy. It’s fairly simple, you try your best to avoid what makes your skin crawl. Isn’t that how the story goes?

Not quite. 

There’s tension, yes, but it's only because you’re the opposite sex. Nothing beyond that. It could also be because you’re both introduced to each other as a pair of miserable singles. Lewis is the person you share in common.

She’s a close friend, he proclaims as you two shake hands. The touch is sticky, just like hot glue— and for a minute—it feels like a knife cuts this invisible strain in half. He lets himself salivate over your lioness stare; dark, sharp, amorous. You lean towards him just the same; dominant, mature, suggestive.

I’ve seen you race.

He hums, still attached to your desirable touch. Yeah? Why haven’t I seen you then?

Fingers press sternly against his warm skin, as if to provoke him more than he already feels himself falling into. It should be alarming the way his mind slips into a frenzy because of it, but likes it. The rush. 

Maybe because I wasn’t rooting for you.

There. Right then, he disconnects. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

You grin. Well, now you know. 

“You know what? Mingle—”

“Who says mingle?” you and Carlos question at the same time, judgemental eyes staring coldly. 

Lewis blushes. “I-I-Is that not a thing anymore?” Silence. “Fuck, I really am getting old...”

The night consists of mimosas, because according to you, it reminds you of your late-mother. “She liked something fruity, but also fun enough to make her head spin. It was entertaining to watch.”

“How so?”

“She’d ramble on and on. Slurred about her dreams.” A sad smile. “That’s the only reason why I ever found out she wanted to become an author. She was fifty—five decades too old—but she said she wanted one last adventure before retiring. It didn’t even matter if she made it onto the New York Times Best Seller list.”

The way your eyes even out, round and almost doughy, makes him trip for a second because this is not the same girl he shook hands with nearly three hours ago. No, this version of you was almost childlike, but he supposes that's how everyone who loses a parent becomes. 

It comes out shy—closed off—your laugh. As if you just caught yourself being too vulnerable. That was always the worst. “Look at me making you my therapist. I have got to stop doing that.” 

His mouth opens lamely, ghostly scoff sitting upon his lips. And if it were to be released, it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. It was a weird thing to note. “I like hearing you talk.”

A beat. “We’ve only just met.”

Carlos grins, crinkles tracing the corner of his eyes like some beauty. “Then let's meet some more.”

The opportunity is there, the kind you’ve been looking for. With a sheepish smile, you nod. “I should warn you though, I’m a bit of a mess.”

Finally, the scoff escapes. And like envisioned, you laugh at the sound.

“Consider me warned.”

-

He fucked you that same night in the back of his car. It was late, so dark that you barely even had the chance to register the fact that you squirted all over his vintage Ferrari. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he pants as he snaps his hips up again, fast motion making you head loll bad. You wonder what he means, but as soon as his long fingers circle your swollen bud, you’re just as good as gone.

He asked you out an hour later, when he dropped you off right in front of your apartment. You happily accepted, unable to hide your excitement. 

Your smile falters. “Give me a reason as to why I should say yes.”

“Um, well, you sort of already said…yes?”

The confusion that settles onto his handsome features makes you glow with satisfaction. “I could always change my mind. Pretend this night never even happened.”

Panic rushes harshly against his shoulders. He doesn’t even know why he cares so much, but he does. 

Vulnerability is a bitch. 

“Huh,” he hums, relaxing against his seat, head hitting the expensive cushion. And you can see it. The challenge. He clicks his tongue, bored all of a sudden. “Listen, I want you, but I certainly don’t need you.”

You realize right there and then—you met your match. 

You realize right there and then—you two share the same green pride. 

You realize right there and then—

“It was nice getting to know you.” 

-

The only reason you’re even friends with someone like Lewis is because your mother married rich.

Filthy fucking rich. 

Then, somehow, married richer by her third and last marriage. The man was twisted, but you never knew just how much. Not for a very long time. 

He dabbled in stocks, or some boring shit like that, and later invested in some other crap. Somewhere along the line, you met the Brit. 

The same Brit who now hisses at you through the phone. 

“God damn it, what happened? Weren’t you two getting along?”

You sigh, rubbing your feet together as you admire the way the navy blue paint covers your pedicured nails. Stormy clouds match your mood as you shake the bottle of pills that lay on top of your desk. 

“He’s too vain.”

He groans. “You my dear, dear friend, are looking into a mirror then, I suppose.”

A sharp gasp. “Are you insinuating I’m the same?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“May I remind you that you sit and stare at yourself for God knows how long before any race? Newflash, dickhead, you’re going to sweat, look like shit, and one out of ten times, you’re going to win.”

“I see I triggered something.” He sighs heavily. The sound tells you he’s not really upset or anything, but more so worried. Ever since she died, you’ve been that way. 

Snappy. Defensive. 

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I know you.” 

And although he can’t see, you still smile fondly. Rattling the bottle of antidepressants, you inch up higher and higher onto your chair until you face your own reflection. Shattered glass stares back at you as you feverishly look down. 

“Do you still have an extra pass to this weekend's race?”

-

There had to be something wrong with you. Everyone could tell, and quite frankly, you could agree. Would you admit to it out loud? No, now that’s something different. Or maybe you’re just odd. That would also make sense. Whatever it was, it would explain as to why everyone around you screams with excitement as the fast cars fly by. You, on the other hand, simply stare with straight lips and empty eyes.

While all clap cheerfully when Lewis finishes on the third step, you cross your arms. While everyone runs out of the Mercedes garage to declare front row, you drag your feet slowly to the last. 

While Carlos makes eye contact as he lifts his trophy—notably bigger than the Brits—you yawn.

You’re not impressed.

She’s not impressed, the Spaniard remembers thinking to himself as he smiles wider towards the stacks of cameras that turn him temporarily blind. He selfishly thinks you’re here for him, but he knows that's straight bullshit. Truth be told, it didn’t seem like you were here to support your friend either.

“It’s been so long,” Lewis huffs in disbelief as you stare across with vacant eyes. To him, you’re simply jetlagged. “Can you believe it?”

An exhale. “You did good.” Extending your legs outward, you admire the black tiles that shine back brighter than if it were to be white. “Drinks. On me.”

The Brit laughs. “Deal.”

-

Somewhere close by, they play jazz. 

“Pretty,” you softly speak as you connect your lips to the glass. The live band sways back and forth, only adding to the charm you seem to like. And you like it a lot. “Dance with me.”

Lewis snickers. “I love you to death, but I’m gonna have to go with no.”

You frown. “Come on. I never ask you for anything.”

“You were born with a golden spoon and have used retinol since you were ten, you’re not allowed to ask for anything when you’ve already had everything.”

“Yeah…well not this.” You’re secretly envious of every lady in the room. The way they beam with sincere smiles at their husbands. Boyfriends? Flings? Affairs? Who cares honestly, you were jealous nonetheless. 

The Mercedes driver watches as your fingers lazily tap against your lap, as if signaling you’re free. Guilt slithers down his neck as he sighs in defeat. “Fi–”

“Nice seeing you two here.”

Lewis wants to cry with utter thankfulness as Carlos inches closer with a lousy grin. “Hey! Oh God—hey.” You blink. “Wh-what are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, of course, because I’m not.”

The Spanirad shrugs. “I won. Wanted to celebrate, I suppose.” Brown eyes flicker towards you like thunder and suddenly you feel naked under his gaze. You swallow. “You look nice.”

And there it is again—tension.

He cocks his head to the side, almost as if waiting for a compliment of your own. Instead, he finds himself being ignored. Crossing your legs, you lift the empty glass up as the bartender hurries for a refill. 

Finally, Lewis speaks up. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay—”

“Who says hay?” you and the brunette spit out with snarkiness. You bite back a smile while he releases a chuckle. 

The Brit stands up, chugging the rest of his drink as he waves you two off. “I’m not that old,” he shouts as he turns the corner and disappears. 

Carlos takes the time to catch up on your appearance. Last time he saw you, you had longer hair, now it appears you’ve had a trim. He likes it. You were slightly tanner, but now appear a shade lighter. It could just be because it’s winter. It's nice seeing other versions of you. 

“So, how have you be—”

“Why are you still here?”

He freezes. It takes him a while to find the strength to open his mouth. 

“We never finished our conversation.”

-

He didn’t fuck you that night, no, he took you dancing. And maybe that’s why it worked this time around. Instead of taking the time to learn all the different types of moans you have, he took the time to learn all about your upbringing. 

I learned how to bike when I turned six. Had severe trust issues for a year, so I tried again when I was seven.

That must be where your scars are from, he thinks to himself, but he finds them endearing.

I like long hair, I find it beautiful, but as soon as it’s starting to grow out I think it looks too weird on me. 

That must be why your hair is shorter than he remembers, but he loves it. Has the urge to run his fingers through.

My favorite movie is How Harry Met Sally, but quite frankly, I don't find Harry attractive at all, so I never really understood why Sally settled down with him after so long.

And you’re honest. Brutally honest. And he finds that attractive.

“How about you, Mr. Singapore?”

I learned how to kart before I learned how to bike, actually. I, too, have scars on my hands from small crashes. 

You blush as you hide yours beneath your coat. 

I have two sisters, so I mainly learned how to dance because of them. I hated it at the time, but now I’m quite grateful.

Is it possible to swoon harder?

And I don’t have a favorite film, necessarily, but I’ve watched How Harry Met Sally, and I would agree. Sally was too good looking for him. 

You have to laugh. “Is that so?”

He smiles. “The name Harry sounds so…” He winks cooly before running a hand through his locks. You giggle. “He looks more like a Bob.”

“Oh my God! Could you imagine? How Bob Met Sally?” You pause. “Wait, that actually doesn’t sound half bad…”

He chews on his bottom lip slowly, nodding in agreement. Silence engulfs you two as you stare at each other with round eyes. He’s the first to crack a loopy grin and you quickly follow with a sheepish one. Then, it vanishes and he’s left looking like he swallowed a frog.

“Listen, about last time…”

“Long forgotten.”

He halts, almost surprised by your response. “No, no, there’s no need to pretend, I was a—”

“Jerk?”

The Spaniard rolls his eyes. “Great, so you haven’t forgotten.”

You shrug. “I’m a girl. We remember everything.”

“Got it,” he declares. “Ask me again.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze. “What?”

“Ask me why you should say yes to a date with me.”

“You don’t have to do this, we’re good—”

“I know we are, but I still want you to ask.”

You lick your lip anxiously before relaxing your stiff shoulders. He tilts his head as if urging you and you nod. “Why should I say yes to you?”

Satisfaction settles. “Because you like a good challenge.” He leans closer. “And isn't that what this is?”

-

Carlos Sainz Jr. was made for you.

“Leave me alone,” you scream, veins throbbing, as you rush past him, heading towards the guest room. You’re glad his parents aren’t home at the moment because Lord knows the embarrassment you would feel.

“No. Not until you talk to me.” As simple as that. Your eyes twitch as you turn back, then bring your hands up to your hips. He adores it when you do that, though he probably shouldn’t right now.

“You want to talk?” You let out an unhinged scoff. “Oh, would you look at that, he wants to talk! Now he wants to talk. Well guess what, fuckhead—I don’t.” 

With that, you march out into the balcony. His eyes follow the way you light up a cigarette. The way you drink the last drops of champagne that linger in the bottle gifted to you by his mother. 

She was kind. She was beautiful. She didn’t deserve someone being this mean to her son.

You barely recognize him because of how blurry your vision is, but his scent does it. Musky. Woody. Calm. 

He hands you the familiar pill, then a glass of water. He rushes the champagne away, then takes the cigarette and squashes it against the cold floor. He doesn’t so much call you out for being a lunatic, for upsetting his dogs with all your yelling, or for pushing him. No, he doesn’t do any of that. And you have never been more in love with him than now.

“I know I can be a bit much sometimes…” A sniffle. “I swear I try to catch onto it so you don’t have to deal with any of this, but—”

“You don’t mean it.” He tangles his fingers through your hair as you sob. And it’s soft despite spending the entire day near the ocean. It feels silky. He’s obsessed. “I know you.”

-

You were made for Carlos Sainz Jr.

“How do I look?” 

“Like an angel.” He swears he turns bright red when you blow him a kiss. “Your name must’ve been Bonita in another life because look at you…” A hand flies up to clutch onto his heart as he makes a face. “Though, I must say, you do know how to make me look bad.”

You giggle. “Oh? This old thing? I thrifted it. Nice, eh?”

He groans. “Very, but you’re supposed to be rooting for Spain.” A gag. “Not Italy.”

You frown. “That's all I had. Plus, you’re basically Italian given your working status.”

“No, amor, they pay me to like Italy. It’s a cover up, think about it.”

You huff, popping your hip outward. “Still. I like it, so I’m wearing it while cheering for the opposite team.”

“Always over complicating things.” He laughs. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re a complicated person.”

A deadpan expression. “Suck your own dick.”

“Oi, relax.”

Spinning to face the mirror, you fix your jersey one last time before skipping out the door, tube socks sliding as you go. The Spaniard lets out a dreamy sigh. 

Were you flawless? Not at all.

Were you put together? Not without a prescription.

But he loved figuring it all out with you. And that’s called love.

-

You’re in the middle of a rampage, during dinner. While everyone stares at you puzzled, he simply laughs at your cartoon expressions. 

“I mean, I offered!” A pout. “I clearly stated I could get the cap signed for her and she gave me the nastiest, ugliest, dirty-looking glare! I for sure thought her face was permanently damaged.” You relax against the chair, your shaky hand finding its way to your water bottle. “Like sorry for riding your favorite driver…”

Charles laughs nervously. “I don’t think that was a necessary thing to include…” 

You shrug, raising your brows over to your boyfriend who struggles to breathe. 

The conversation flows easily, like most nights you're all together, but this time there’s a minor bump. You’ve been good about it; avoiding the question for so long. Over the course of time, you’ve managed to be so mendacious, that truly no one knew the truth. Not even Carlos.

“I hope it’s not overstepping, but how did your mum pass?”

He means no harm, Lando, but you just wish so badly that you could believe that. While Carlos and Lewis were the closest thing you have to a family nowadays, even they knew not to ask. You never laid the rules out loud, but they could tell it was an unwanted topic to have on your behalf, no matter how curious they got. 

All of a sudden, your mood deteriorates. The look in Lando’s eyes makes sure to strike off as an apology, but you’re so busy looking down onto your lap that you don’t even pinpoint the meaning. The table grows awkward as time ticks by. 

No one has the power to change the subject, save you the same way doctors tried to save your mother—because they, too—wonder. 

You gulp, feeling small, but far too seen at the same time. It was confusing. “She, um…her last husband…” Everyone feels bad, like you’re some limping puppy, zigzagging down an empty highway, but remain quiet. Then, you look up, stone cold but the tip of your rosy nose and blotchy face is enough reassurance that you still have a beating heart.

“Husband number three strangled her to death.”

You say it like you don’t care. Like it hasn’t affected you at all, and that makes Carlos blink twice as fast as everyone else in the table. A droplet makes its way down your cheek as you let out a light laugh. 

“I guess he thought he was some Superior God who had a say in cutting her time short.”

They all freeze. 

“I am so sorry for asking—” 

“I didn’t need to respond.” You smile lamely. “It’s fine, Lando.”

But it’s not, not even close. They ripped the confession out of your throat, at least that’s what it felt like. No one stepped up, no one said anything. 

Your eyes flicker to the only man who makes your heart speed. 

He reaches for your hand and you grip it hard.

No one said anything.

Not. Even. Carlos.

-

You’ve always excelled at holding a grudge. It came fairly simple. 

But as you stare at him through the screen, for the first time—and only the first time—you struggle. Maybe it’s his puppy eyes that betray you, or his gentleness anytime he steps near you, you don’t really know. 

And you don’t want to.

“I was thinking mariscos.”

Hair flies past your eyes as you squint. He looks particularly handsome today, wearing a linen shirt that drapes over him like some silver armor. Long waves brush against his temples as he returns the squint, slightly smiling at your lips. 

“Sounds good to me.”

Soft music roams the isolated restaurant that almost seemed to belong to just you two, and that helps you relax. You could tell it helps him too. 

“The car felt good today.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, biting onto a piece of shrimp. “Felt like I was flying.”

You let out a whistle. There’s a comfortable silence that lingers for a while before you raise a brow up to the open sky. “Hey,” you start as his orbs flicker up with all the attention in the world. “Do you believe in angels?”

A moment. “I’d say so, yes. Yes, I do.”

Hum. “You sound freakishly sure.” You inch forward with teasing eyes. “Why?”

“Easy.” Chocolate orbs swirl with adoration. “There’s you.”

“I don’t count.”

He frowns. “And why not?”

“Because you love me, of course you’d say that only to be nice.”

“I say so because I know so.”

“Love is blind, love is blind,” you chant, sipping on his open can.

A second ticks by. “Why do you ask?”

And like the first night he met you, your eyes merge into doe eyes. “Because I do.” A sheepish grin. “And sorry to disappoint, but it’s not you.” 

“What’s his name?” he jokes.

But you’re not even listening. “My mom was pure. She was a good person, Carlos.” A beat. “She’s my forever angel.”

His heart physically hurts at your glossy eyes, immediately reaching for your hands. “You must really miss her…”

A wet laugh. “Is there a word stronger than ‘really’? If there is, then that would be one way to say it.”

And he has to apologize, even if it’s seven days too late. 

“I’m sorry for not stepping in that night. I-I-I should have said something and you should have said nothing.” Thick brows knit in together. “You don’t know how shitty I felt, but—”

“You wanted to know as well.”

The way his features freeze is enough confirmation. And you can't be mad. Not even a little. Not even a lot. 

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Carlos. I should have been more open and honest with you first.” A gust of hot air slaps you across the face. “I tend to shut out people like you because…I don’t know.”

“Vulnerability is a bitch?”

You laugh. “That’s one way to say it.” Orbs scan his beauty with no shame before falling back. “You still have plenty of questions, don’t you?”

“O-of course not.”

Another laugh. “It’s okay. You caught me in a good mood. Go on.”

He’s awkward at first, but slowly eases with the sound of your breathing. “Why hasn’t he been arrested?”

“Because he’s a multi-billionaire.”

He gulps and you blink. “Why haven’t you sued?”

“Because I’m not a multi-billionaire.”

“So…he did a cover up with a wad of cash?”

“Mhm. No one dared ask whose hand shaped bruise was imprinted in her neck.”

He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, but he knows he needs this because he knows it will keep him up the same ways it’s kept him up since that god forbidden dinner. 

“This was the cause of your…” He doesn’t even want to finish his sentence.

“Depression…yeah. Losing someone you love will do that to ya.”

But he wants to ask—he wants to ask more because he knows there has to be more. He’s lost people he loves too—and he loved them very much—and he never got this way. In a flash, he feels guilty for comparing his healing process to yours but quickly looks down onto his lap. 

And the hot summer rain is enough warning for him not to question you any further. 

The Spaniard shares a grateful smile. “Thank you for trusting me. To take care of you, and all t-that,” he stutters, blushing.

“I love you, Carlos.” A beat. “I’ve always trusted you. The only person I don’t trust is myself.”

-

“Be quiet,” she hisses, urgently signaling you closer. “And make sure to shut the door.”

Confused, you hesitantly push until you hear a click. Inching closer to your mom, you slowly become more and more lost as you eye the scattered papers all over your step-dads office table. “What is all this?”

Color drains from her normally youthful face. Even the brightest shade of red can’t help add life. “Proof of embezzlement.”

“What?”

She slides stacks of black folders towards you and you quickly flip through, to which you don’t understand a single thing. “He’s stealing money, that’s what. We’re not talking thousands, we’re talking millions,” she whispers frantically before growing green. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Okay, okay, hold on, you’re okay.” Rushing to be next to her, you clumsily tie her hair up into a messy ponytail before fanning her with the white sheets. You wince, quickly placing them back down. “How did you even come across this?”

Just as fast as a lighting bolt, she spins the chair. “I’m starting my book—” She gags, “I was supposed to start today, but I came in here looking for his typewriter. You know, the one with the tiny cherubs?” Across the office, you spot it, the tiny angels delicately painted onto the infamous typewriter. You nod. “Well, I started to search for some paper and instead found all of this…”

Even you grow dizzy as you eye the infinite zero’s that jump out against all types of sums. That’s not even enough to spend in ten lifetimes. It was no wonder he just recently made it onto The Forbes list. Her eyes—honest as ever—make you panic as you twirl your thumbs. “Wait…you’re not thinking of confronting him about it, are you?”

“I have to.” Pause. “Right?”

No. You don’t want her to. Not in any scenario. It’s taken you both so long to reach the life you deserve, and now that you were finally here it’s about to be ripped away from you? Your lack of words makes her glare. 

“I don’t know why I’m asking you, I have to! It’s the right thing to do.”

Adrenaline. “Mom, just think about it—”

“I did not raise you to be avaricious,” she spits out, fire practically fuming out of her.  You flinch. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Y-you’re right.” There goes all your money down the drain. “I’m with you no matter what.” 

Knock knock.

Like mother-daughter, you both freeze as your eyes flicker to the sound. 

“Angelica, are you in there?”

You never liked the name Angelica. Not on anyone else that wasn’t your Angelica. 

Running over to open, she finds herself face-to-face to Lucifer himself as he cocks his head in humor. “Locking me out of my own office now?” He enters. “Fun.” Dark eyes roam the messy area. “Fun.”

Her eyes plead with you in a language only you both knew, but never did you mean to obey. You wanted to stay with her—something told you to stay with her. 

“Honey, give us some privacy, yeah?”

“U-uh…” He winks like that was the go-ahead. Like that was the last permission you needed to agree. And maybe it was. 

Deep down it’s almost like you knew he had sinister intentions. Deep down it’s almost like you knew he was capable of committing those sinister intentions. 

Deep down. 

It’s like you don’t even care.

You smile, tight lipped. “Whatever you need.”

You heard the argument that night, you heard the threats. You heard her pleads, you heard her chokes. You could only imagine what was going on inside, but you were your mothers daughter. You could imagine quite a lot. 

She could’ve been an author—with his resources she might just have hit the New York Times Best Seller list. She could have been a grandmother one day—surely your kids would have lived a luxurious life. 

She could have been obedient. Why wasn’t she obedient? Was it so hard to brush it all under the rug?

He was sweating, just as much as a pig. Or maybe he’s glowing, he is smiling after all. Here and there he apologizes in a lousy manner, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was—

“How much money am I gonna get to keep?”

He’s intrigued. “How much do you want?”

“Enough to not have to worry.” You can still see it; cramped rooms, tin canned meals on paper plates. You could never go back.

An eye roll. “You’re just like her…” A beat. “Fucking greedy.” You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’re embarrassed—-of course you were—who is he to judge? He sighs. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“It means I’m not transferring you anything. I want you out of this house no later than Sunday.”

Plump lips open, then snap shut, teeth gritting. “I’ll tell everyone that you’re a murderer. You’ll lose it all, w-watch.”

He’s not phased. Not even in the slightest. “And who’s going to believe you? Tell me, really, because I’d like to know.”

Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything.

And fuck yourself for having nothing at all—again.

Months swept by, the death was ruled a suicide, and antidepressant became your loyal friend. There was no one else, and sometimes you feared there would always be no one else. 

Then—by some miracle—there was Carlos.

He was handsome. He was shy. He was sweet. He was kind.

He was rich.

You played hard to get, but so did he. You played the long haul, but so did he. You were a fantastic liar, but he was an ever better believer.

And it all clicked.

Just the way it was supposed to.

-

You’ve been accustomed to a certain lifestyle for years now, but somehow you’re always surprised about the sudden boost you’ve switched to ever since you’ve met him.

Chanel heels turned into red bottoms. Last season dresses turned into those that were not yet  released. You loved everything about it.

“You look so beautiful, cariño,” he groans against your lips, desperate for more. His large hands play with the silky fabric, fighting to slide it up against your hips. You shudder. “I mean…come on.”

“Hey, hey—that’s sweet and all—” You push yourself closer to his toned body, immediately feeling his erection. You nearly whimper.  “But why don’t you fuck me instead?” A kiss. “You missed me, no?”

And instead—he whimpers. “How dare you even ask?” 

With that, he picks you up with ease, pinning you against the wall. You’re dizzy, because unbeknownst to him, he’s casted a spell on you. Never did you think you could fall in love, much less, have someone reciprocate. 

Tender fingers make their way to your clit as you lunge forward, biting down onto his shoulder. It should amaze you how he holds you up with one arm, but you’re not. If anything, you leak more and more by every passing second. 

His dirty pants make you fold as you clench around him. The way they curl, the way they pulse, all of it was your kryptonite. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you squeal, keeping your eyes trapped shut, feeling the familiar knot forming. He grins, pecking your sweaty forehead, digits speeding up. Berry lips form an O as you moan louder with every push.”I-I’m c-c-close—oh God.”

“Shh. It’s okay, let go for me, yeah? I’m right here with you.” 

Gritting your teeth harder, you moan like some pornstar as you finish all around him. Almost like some rule, he desperately sucks his fingers clean. The Spaniard hums like he’s living his biggest dream of all before opening his round eyes. 

“So sweet.”

You blush. “Yours tastes like shit.”

He laughs. “And yet you beg for me to finish all over your face, isn’t that so?”

Nearly choking at his bluntness, you fight back a smile as you play with his floppy locks. They’ve grown so much from the last time you saw him, so this was certainly eye candy to you. He sighs, relaxing as you continue to twirl thick strands around your fingers.

Soft legs still drape over his waist, hands still lay around your waist, and even breathing connects you both. Carlos feels like he’s nearly dozing off, but his hand remains firm, preferring to take a bullet than to let you fall. 

You like to think that you like his lashes the best. But then there’s his eyes. And his nose. And his heart. And his lips. And his hands. And his sculpture body. And his jokes. And his laugh. And his freckles. So you never could choose, not truly.

Inching closer to his ear, you smirk slowly. “Wanna fuck my mouth?”

His eyes snap open, jaw clenching. “You’re such a tease.”

A shrug. “Want to or not?” You bite your lip, legs letting go of his hips as you slide down. “Because this offer ends in five…” He raises a skeptical brow. “Four…” You motion him closer to which he steadily follows. “Three…” He laughs. “Two, one!”

Sprinting up the stairs in a flash, you giggle as he chases after you. The sound of his steps make your heart beat faster as you jump onto your shared bed. Rushing past the corner, he cocks his head to the side as he clicks his tongue. Stepping into the room carefully, he swung the door closed before locking it. You frown.

“Reassures me that no one will walk in.”

“No one will walk in,” you whisper as your stomach drops. “There’s no need t-to—”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees, taking in your breathless state. “But I prefer it this way. Just you.” A closer stride. “And me.”

Palms are sweaty. Blood slithers down your throat and thighs. And yet your freeze. You feel hot and cold, all at once. You don’t like the feeling, any of it, but you try to ignore the inner monologue. 

“You look stunning,” he states, finally reaching you. “You always do.”

Your speeding heart lessens. “T-thank you.” 

A beat. “You’re not nervous—are you?”

Hastily, you shake your head. “N-no! Of course not!”

Thick brows knit together. “Because you normally aren’t.” His smile fades. “W-we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to, you know that right?”

Physically, you’re cringing. Mentally, you’re spiraling. The act itself makes the Spaniard withdraw, taking a steady step back and shaking his head. Panic rises fast as you crawl closer to him, reaching the end of the bed. 

“I just have a lot on my mind, but I want this.” A beat. “I want you.”

It’s as if you’re a blank sheet of paper, blinking up at Carlos with such innocence. So much so, it makes his heart stop. He looks for reassurance, which you give him, and he looks for it again, which you give again without hesitance. 

“Come on, Carlitos…” you slowly whisper, batting your eyes. “I know you’ve missed my mouth.”

If you weren’t so breathtaking, if you weren’t so seductive, if you weren’t so goddamn tempting then surely turning you down wouldn’t be an issue. By alas, you’re here—and even better—you’re all his. 

“Eres un sueño.” It seems like an eternity passes by before he finally steps close to you once again, getting rid of whatever distance you ever had. Like it was never meant to be there to begin with. “Can I kiss you first?”

It’s sweet that he feels the need to build up to fucking you sore, but sweet nonetheless. That’s one thing you love about him—and there’s a lot to choose from—his respect towards you. Smiling warmly, you extend your arm, inviting him like an angel before he smashes his lips against you like the devil.

The contrast. It’s just what you needed.

“God, I fucking love you.” 

“I—” His lips press harsher as he continues marking his territory. All of it was making your head spin like a rollercoaster. “I love you too,” you manage to spit out as he makes his way down. You blush. “I-I-I sort of wanted to…”

He blinks. “Sort of what?”

“Well, you know…” You point towards his hardened cock. 

And he actually snickers. “Cat got your tongue today or what, bella?”

A groan. “You’re so fucking annoying—”

“No, no, no,” he cuts in with a whistle. “By all means, go ahead.”

Desperate hands crazily reach out towards his belt in a nanosecond. You should be ashamed how hopeless you are, but you don’t find enough strength to care. Not when he was looking down at you with hungry eyes. 

“Tan linda,” he whispered underneath his breath. As if you weren’t meant to hear him. As if he can’t quite believe it’s you he gets to keep. This must all be a dream to him, he thinks. 

Just as you’re about to pull his jeans down, large hands get ahold of your wrists. Confused, you look up at him, head tilted and messy hair falling over your shoulder. He grins wickedly. 

“Just one more kiss.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me—”

But his soft lips move with such urgency that you don’t even have time to bitch and moan. Not that you’re trying. You can feel it; the hunger, the lust. The way you run your fingers through his hair, or how he squeezes your ass. In a matter of seconds, the room grows steamy, hot breaths expanding with every peck. It’s as if Carlos was too afraid of being ripped away from you even for a second, scared your lips might change and he wouldn’t know a thing about it.

Not knowing you might be his biggest fear.

It happens without a warning, his grip. You feel it slide slowly up your ribs—you remember thinking how much you like it, how much it tickles. Then it reaches your chest, to which his eager hands squeeze your tits, pathetically moaning into your mouth. You can’t help but giggle, but still not separating. And then…

It reaches your neck.

As soon as he squeezes, your eyesight begins to blur, but he doesn’t notice. Your chest begins to rise and fall at an alarming rate, but he doesn’t notice. And you’re terrified.

But he doesn’t notice.

“Carlos,” you whimper, but he takes it as a good sign, mouth moving with ease. “Carlos, honey…”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is deep. “You like that?” Large palm squeezes harder. “Bet you do.”

“Okay, stop!” you scream, arms flying like some madman. “Let go of me!”

Panicked, he releases you in a hurry, jumping off of your trembling body. Color drains his face as realization hits him, but it's too late. You’re sobbing hard, shoulders bouncing up and down. The way you crawl back with fear makes his heart break as he shakes his head, running a hand against his jaw.

“Fuck.” More cries. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I am so sorry, baby…” Desperate eyes stare back at you as you hide your face against your shaky hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. I should have known, I should have known.” Inching closer proves to be a mistake when you leap off the bed, throwing a mountain of pillows like daggers. 

“Stop it,” you demand. “Stay. Right. There.”

He flinches. “Are you afraid of me?”

The laugh that erupts from your throat is unlike the others he’s heard. It’s almost maniacal. It makes his skin grow with goosebumps. “Is that even a question?” Dark mascara runs down your cheeks as you breathe heavily. “You just tried to kill me.”

“No,” he pronounces. “No, you know that that’s not true. I-I-I thought you’d like it!” The glare you flicker is enough for him to wince, pinching the tip of his nose. “I should have known better, okay? Please, just…calm down.”

All your sniffles come to an end as you freeze. “Are you calling me crazy?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh my God.” Pushing your hair back, you release a chuckle. “You actually think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, stop putting words into my mouth.”

A scoff. “Okay, wow.” 

He doesn’t have a clue as to how he continues to dig himself into a hole—and yet—here he is. Digging his own grave. Exhaling hard, he licks his lips before looking straight into your glossy eyes. “I love you,” he starts, but you remain as still as a statue. “And I want us to work through this. I want to be able to talk to you, yeah?” A beat. “I’m sorry about…what I did, I should have never done it knowing you’re…traumatized.” 

He’s almost scared to see your reaction, but it never comes. Instead, you blink hastily, as if you’re mortified. 

You should’ve known. You should have figured that karma would catch up to you sooner or later.

I mean, all sins must be paid for, right?

As soon as he starts closing the gap, you’re thumping heart picks right back up. “I just want to talk—”

“No.”

Despite his hurt, he continues his march towards you. “I just want to be near you, please—”

“I said no!” 

It happens almost in the blink of an eye, the sound of glass shattering. He sort of thinks he must’ve imagined it, your hand flying to punch the mirror right besides you, but the gentle blood that oozes out of your hand makes his heart stop. Suddenly, all the scars you have make sense. So much makes sense. 

“Just…stay there, Carlos,” you say, voice trembling, small hand holding out a piece of sharp glass towards him like some wannabe knife. You bite your bottom lip. “Just—there.”

“Cariño…”

“Stop it with that,” you plead, teardrops slipping. “Stop calling me that.”

Somewhere in the shard, he catches his reflection. Half-scared, half-brokenhearted. He doesn’t even know how you two got to this point. 

He gulps. “Okay. I’ll stop, I’ll stop, but please put that down.” You shake your head fast, splotchy cheeks flushing furthermore. Carlos sighs desperately. “Come on—you’re bleeding.”

“I’m used to it by now.”

Tension resurfaces once again between you both as you stare at each other, awaiting for the next challenge. Playing the silent game for a second, curious to see who breaks next. 

“Why did you lock the door?”

He almost laughs. “We always shut the door—”

You raise the blade up higher as you begin to lose patience. Deep down, you know you’re not capable of harming him, but how could you ever let your guard down once again when he tried to strangle you to death?

History almost repeats itself, and you’ll be damned if you ever let it happen.

“You said it, we shut it but we never lock it.” A soft cry. “What were you planning on doing to me, Carlos?”

It’s like a knife to the heart, you’re sudden distrust. The brunette finds himself struggling to breath as he blinks like a lost deer. 

“You know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose, at least…”

You let out a wet snarl, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you.”

A flinch. “All of this was a mistake and I adore you.”

“You don’t, though,” you protest, the shaky vision intensifying. “If not you wouldn’t have tried to mur—”

“For the last time, I’m not your step-father!” It’s as if he’s finally reached his breaking point, just now. His body is tired. His mind is tired. Everything is just tired of trying. Carlos shrugs lamely. “If you don’t want to believe me…so be it.”

The pain that rains out of him should be enough for you to know that he’s telling the complete truth. He’s a good guy, with pure intentions. He’s not here to get even with you on your mothers behalf. None of what you’re imagining is true.

But you just can’t seem to understand. 

“I don’t believe your lies, alright?” you spit out with deep breaths. You drop the blade, finally. “Open the door.”

With his head hung low, he complies, feet dragging with every step. And finally, with a hand on the knob, he turns to give you one last glance. He can tell you’re holding in your breath and he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Why it make him feel so much like a monster…

Click. The wooden door swings open as he pushes it gently.

“Now leave.”

A wave of nausea strikes with your words. “Amor—“

“Stop. Don’t even look at me.” Tension. “I don’t want to see you ever again—not even by accident.”

And that was the last stab that ended it all.

-

Every now and then, he wonders how you are. Hopefully better. 

He hears your name mentioned once in a blue moon, but instinctively blocks it out, too disturbed at the thought of what occurred between you two. 

What did occur between you two?

He could take a guess and say that you’re internally fucked. Straight and simple. 

But it’s still annoying. The way he wishes to forget you with every passing birthday wish. 

At first, it was because he missed you. He just wanted to forget you because he missed you—yes.

Later, it was because the memory of the cramped room suffocated him. The sound of glass breaking was stronger than the sound of his car crashing. And somehow the latter seemed better. 

He just wanted to forget that day—yes. 

Staring off into space has been his thing for a long time, often getting called out on it. Now, he finds himself with his eyes closed, too scared that someone might notice his feelings and feel the need to ask if he’s okay. 

He hasn't been. Not since you. 

“Grape or watermelon?”

Popping and eye open, he catches a glance of Lewis before rolling over. “I’m good.”

It’s tough, this silent war between both his friends. The break up simply made this…tough. Especially when no one really knows what happened. 

Setting the electrolytes down, the Brit claims a spot next to the brunette. Groaning at the unwanted company, Carlos switches to sit upright. Brown eyes glare strongly before Lewis laughs it off. 

“How you doin’, bud?”

Great, no yeah, just severely depressed thanks to your so-called friend. Would you mind asking her where she gets her antidepressants from for me? I mean, I would, but last time we saw each other she, uh, I don’t know, tried to stab me? And you know what’s the most fucked up shit? It’s the fact that I still love her just the same. 

I just wanted to help. 

He forces a shy smile. “Fine.”

A pity grimace. “I can tell she misses you, you know?”

Carlos hates how excited the thought of you alone—dreamily sighing for his return—gets him to sit up straighter, suddenly interested. It’s foolish, really. 

“She would never admit it, but I can tell because I know—”

“Her?” The Spaniard lets out a mocking scoff. “Trust me, you don’t. Not entirely.”

That shuts Lewis right up as he sits there, staring blankly. A dark brow furrows. “Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two—not that I need to know—but she’s a good person. And so are you. So…don’t be afraid of reaching out.”

He flickers his brown eyes accusingly. “Why should I? Did she put you up to this?”

“She didn’t—“

But the fact is, the hesitation gives him away. Anger arises as the Spaniard rolls his eyes. “I knew it, God, I knew it!” A second. “I know her.”

The Brit drowns with nervousness as he waves his hands in despair. “She just wants you to apologize!”

A singular laugh. “Apologize for what?” He pauses, squinting at his friend. “She didn’t tell you why we broke up, did she?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t really know who’s fault it was, do you?”

Lewis looks down onto his lap. “No. Not really.”

“Great, then let me be the one to tell you that it was both of ours. I’m no saint but neither is she.”

An award silence lingers as the Spaniards voice echoes the room. Lewis nods. “Understood. I got it, okay?”

He sighs an irregular sigh. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” A sheepish grin. “It’s not my place to fix anything about your guys’ relationship, I get it.”

Carlos’ face switches to bright red as he nods his head once. “T-thanks.”

The Brit, ever happily, stands up firmly before patting his back. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“Gracias.” Lewis is just a few steps away when he clears his throat before he can even stop himself from asking. “How’s she doing?”

It came across almost softer than a mumble, and one might have missed it if not alert, but not Lewis. 

Spinning to face the almost manchild with round eyes, he smiles as bright as the sun, and that makes his stomach turn. Because he knows. He knows you’re doing—

“Really well.”

Fluffy hair falls down as he tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s good.” Sure. He returns the same smile with a twitch. “That’s really good.”

Lewis has known you two for a long time now. He’s unwillingly memorized your ticks. How the right side of your face slightly twitches before every lie, or how the left side of his does the same before every lie. Much like right now. 

The Brit contemplates for a minute, then two, then opens his mouth in the most hesitant manner. 

“She’s moving to Germany.” Carlos freezes. “Only for a few months. Maybe a year, who knows. But…you should read her book.”

He unfreezes. “Her what?”

A faint smile. Eyes crinkled. “It’s a tough read, but I believe it was necessary. You know, to finally talk about it.”

-

He never quite believed you would open up this way, and yet here he was, in an unknown bookstore, spacing out. Your name jumps out like some shooting star, too difficult to ignore. 

Without a doubt, you’d get a lawsuit from your step-father. Of course—you were only dragging the last name of what seemed to be the world's richest man. 

For what it’s worth, Carlos is proud. This must mean you’re open to moving on. To get the necessary help you so desperately need. From start to finish, the pages are enticing. You go into gruesome depth, something you never seemed to have a problem in doing. From the mention of how her eyes remained open with no sign of life, only terror, to the fact that you got your many scars from punching the door, trying to get in on time. How he bribed his way against the laws. 

Everything seemed to be coming out.

So then why, as he sits in his driver's room, staring at your picture in the back of the book, does he feel like doesn’t believe it? 

Not even a generous half.

-

Angelica lived up to the first five letters of her name. 

She was there for you in the moments you needed her the most. She braided your hair for playdates, she tied your shoe laces even when you were too embarrassed to ask, and she worked her way up, making sure you had it all. 

Undeniably, she was one hell of a woman. Then again, she had more within her—pulled some trigger you never thought she’d pull.

You were going to lose it all, why couldn’t she foresee that? That conversation was going to rip your inheritance straight from your tight grip; the one that ensured your future vacations. How could she ever betray you? Her own daughter? 

You were acquisitive. You were possessive. You were partially responsible for her death.

But call it naiveness, you really thought it’d work.

No one will truly know the way your soul left your body when you heard you wouldn’t get a single dollar. Not even a fucking cent. You had to find some other way to stay secure.

But Carlos was out to get you, you just know he was. You don’t have a clue as to how he found out about the truth, about what happened inside that stupid mansion, but he knew it all. And you had to get out of there.

Only it led you back to square one. With no purpose. With no money. Fuck men and their actions, seriously, too all hell with them.

However, you were your mothers daughter at the end of the day.

You could be a writer. An even better one that she could've ever been. If you wanted to, you could do it. 

And that is exactly what you did.

You typed, and typed, and typed until your fingers would cramp up. The multi-billionaire was a leviathan and everyone would see that no matter what. 

You, on the other hand, were an innocent bystander. Too weak to intervene, to fight back. Too young. Yeah. That was what happened that night.

But you also had your own perspective. One your mom could never match.

While she married for the illusion of love, you would’ve married for money with no shame. Carlos just happened to be the luckiest of strikes because you got both. 

While she always was at the front of the room without having to try, you were always in the back with a bitter smile. Why did she get to have two dimples? All eyes would have surely been on you if you had at least one. 

And while she never cared about reaching the New York Times Best Seller list—you did. 

She would have jumped with joy just by selling ten copies, but not you. You always wanted more—craved more. Label it as ambition. 

More copies sold means more money. A trust fund means more money. Playing the victim against your step-father means even more money. So yeah…

You did care about that stupid list. 

Tilting your head back against your seat, you flinch at the taste of the pill, too familiar for your liking, but the wine helps. It always does nowadays. 

Buzz. 

Picking up with a level of indifference was all fake—you had been yearning this call for what seemed like your whole life.

“Hey.” His voice is almost raw. Like he could use a couple cough drops. “I-I-I read your book. It was incredible.”

And for the first time in a while, you smile. “Thank you, that means a lot, Carlos.”

You can hear the static against the line, indicating once again that you’re on opposite sides of the world and not together. You can almost bet that it will always stay that way. 

The Spaniard coughs awkwardly into your ear.

“Oh, and also, congrats on making it onto the New York Times Best Seller.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[kissforyouu]

...THAT is your boyfriend?

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff

warning : mention of drugs , little bit of angst

request : tiktok

a/n : sorry this is rlly short but LONGER drabbles of this story r comingggg js need to get them out of the drafts LOL

unedited.

this is like after about 3 months into their relationship btw!

"padamdam damdamdampadamdam, tupadadadadadamdam..." you speak nonsense, hand around your boyfriend's arm as you scrolled through your phone.

jungkook huffs, giving you the side eye. "what are you even saying?"

"shush, don't say anything." you comment, giving him a small glare and going back to doing whatever you were doing on the phone.

"yes, ma'am."

you both were at the mall shopping, going from aisle to aisle looking for cute clothes. mostly for you. jungkook didn't really care about what he wore. just some dark coloured clothes and a few rings will do for him.

"i was...hmmm...ah! this is what i was looking for earlier." you show your boyfriend your phone which displayed a picture of a plastic figure of cinnamonroll.

"the fuck is that?" he couldn't help but laugh a little, taking the phone from your grasp and zooming into the figure.

"it's cinnamonroll." you give him a sour look. how could he not know!

"i swear, it was pink before." he kisses his teeth, tilting his head to the side, curious about the mysterious bunny (not) figure.

"baby, that was poron. his sister." you correct him. "it's a HE?" jungkook's jaw falls a little, turning to look at you with a shocked expression. yeah. i felt the same when i found out too.

"it's okay. me too. can't believe i was supporting a MAN. but he's really cute, i love him!" you smile. jungkook glances at your face then back at the phone with a small smile forming in the corner of his lips.

"okay, where do we find this guy?" he asks.

"YAY!"

that was before you grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him out of the store.

"mm, jungkook, nooo, it has to be here!" you sigh, going through each of the figures displayed on front. he just hums, not really paying any mind to your misery.

a few minutes pass by and you were still searching for the little guy. at this point, jungkook was getting a little tired. he looks over to you who was crouched down, going through a pile of figures in a basket. he decides to take matters into his own hands and find this little guy for his girlfriend.

so jungkook walks away from you across the store to the cashier, asking for help. he shows a picture of the figure to the cashier, and while he goes through their computer trying to find if he's still in stock, jungkook wonders why you didn't do this first. dumb little girl, he thinks.

"sorry sir, seems like it's out of stock." the cashier speaks. jungkook thanks him, walking back to you. but plot twist! you were gone!

but something catches jungkook's attention. some guy holding your bag outside the store. what?

the corner of his lip twitched upwards, to not to form a smile but rather to form a scowl. what was some rando doing with your bag? he was leaning against the wall with a grin, examining your bag like he owned it.

jungkook walks upto the guy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. the guy turns around to look at him, raising his head up. shortass, jungkook thought.

"why do you have her bag with you?" he points at the bag.

"what? why are you asking?" the guy furrows his eyebrows, his lips twitching up to a sour expression.

"because it's my girlfriend's bag, dumbfuck. where's she?"

girlfriend? the guy scans jungkook from top to bottom. long hair, tatted arms, piercings. y/n can't be possibly be into...that? she can do so much better. the guy looks like he's on drugs. he probably is! he thinks.

"no way y/n's dating a druggy like you." the guy laughs mockingly, clutching onto the purse.

"alright, little man. fuckin tell me where my girl is or i'll pluck your toenails out one by one." he looked as if he was about to beat up the guy then and there, and he probably was too.

"fucking hell, man. god, there she is!" the guy rubs the back of his head, clearly annoyed as he moved away from jungkook. meanwhile, jungkook immediately turns around to see you walking towards both of them with a confused look.

"where were you?" you ask.

"no, where were YOU? and who's this fucker holding your shit?" he points at the guy who's walking towards you. confidently too. as if he knows you better than anyone else. jungkook's jealous, it doesn't take a genius to understand that. angry too. really fucking pissed that this shortass little man is interrupting their date.

before you could answer, the guy cut you off.

"y/n, here's your stuff. and i don't know who this is, but he's—

"i'm her boyfriend, dumbfuck!" jungkook shouts, frustrated.

"is he?" he turns to look at you for confirmation.

"yeah...?" you nod.

"you never told me?" the guy scoffs.

"i don't have to tell you about everything going on in my life?" you frown.

"y/n, he looks like he cheats on you with a different girl every week." the guy comments.

okay no, what the fuck. you're not going to tolerate some meanass comment about your boyfriend. but you also don't want to cause a scene. okay, nevermind—

"the fuck did you just say?" jungkook's clearly offended. but before he could do more, you grab onto his arm and pull him back.

"let's go." you say. he didn't really reply to you, but just gave you a scoff. okay. he's not disagreeing either.

"matheo, i'll talk to you later." you don't even bother giving the guy a smile, but just drag jungkook away.

"what was that all about?" you squeeze his biceps. jungkook pulls his arm away from you, rolling his eyes.

"nothin." he mumbles.

not wanting to continue this topic further, you just nod.

but it's odd. it's been about 30 minutes and jungkook hasn't said anything to you except replying to whatever you tell him. he's also been keeping a small distance from you. what's wrong again. ugh.

"baby, what's wrong?" you look at your boyfriend who was sitting across you mindlessly scrolling on his phone. he raises his head up to take one glance at you but looks back down immediately. instead, he just shakes his head.

"no, i know something's wrong." you protest.

jungkook sighs, placing his phone on the table before finally looking at you.

"you really want me to tell you?" he asks, his expression rather serious. uh oh. you messed up. but fine, you'll take it. you hesitantly nod your head, nervously scratching your skirt with your nails.

"i'm tired of keeping this private. i know you wanted time till you felt like telling people, but it's been 3 months already and we still haven't told a single soul."

oh!

"i don't want to run into guys like that ever again. fucking shortass. you know i care about you and respect your feelings, right? but i just...you know, want to tell people. it's fine if you still wanna wait. but this is just how i feel." he sighs, turning his head to look away.

you couldn't help but pout a little at his confession. you know he's right. it's been 3 months.

"okay. let's tell people. i'm sorry for making you wait that long. and thank you for telling me, gguk." you smile at your boyfriend who's eyes lit up at the mention of you finally publicly posting about your relationship.

"you're sure about this?" he re-checks.

you nod in approval!

"fucking finally. i can beat up every guy who approaches you now."

"okay, no no no no." you laugh, disagreeing COMPLETELY. you knew he wasn't joking either.

ᥫ᭡

taglist: @fungie233 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt

[writingouthere]

friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader. Your friend Yuuji sets you up on a date with his co-worker to help you get over your recent slump, not knowing that his dear older brother had ended it months ago.

cw: none really, some possessive behavior

"He's really great though, I swear!"

"What does 'really great' entail, exactly?"

"Well he's nice! Like, super nice."

You waited to see if there was any more information and when there didn't appear to be any forthcoming, pushed your friend. "Yuuji, I'm going to need a little bit more than that."

Yuuji seemed to think about this for a second and as he did you snuck some dumplings off his plate. He'd taken more than his fair share of the take out anyway.

You loved Yuuji, he was one of the most genuinely kind people you'd ever met. He just happened to have terrible taste in men, aside from his own boyfriend.

"Well, when I got lost the other day, he gave me directions and they were super helpful!"

"Wait, did you find this guy on the street? Are you setting me up with a stranger?" It wouldn't surprise you, Yuuji tended to adopt human beings the way a normal person might adopt stray cats. You couldn't complain too much since it's how the two of you had ended up being friends, but it didn't necessarily mean that whoever he'd picked up off the side of the road this time was your one true love.

"No, no, he works in the school too. He teaches like history or something. He just teaches in the upperclassmen building, so I don't see him that much."

"So he gave you directions after you got lost in your own place of work?"

Yuuji either doesn't hear your tone or he chooses to ignore it. "Yeah, really nice dude. He's also good friends with Maki, so you know he must respect women."

That was actually pretty persuasive. Maki would never put up with any man who was a piece of shit, maybe there was something here.

"Is he cute?"

Yuuji scratched his head and tried to take some dumplings off your plate while you blocked him with your chopsticks.

"I mean I guess, he always looks kind of sad but you're into that right?" You blocked his attempts at stealing your dumplings with a little more aggression than necessary at that.

"I am not!"

Yuuji hummed unimpressed, chewing on the dumpling he'd managed to snatch away while you argued. Thief.

"He's like a little taller than me, pretty eyes and he's stronger than he looks. He actually beat me in some sparring matches last year when the teachers competed." You listened even as you scowled at the way Yuuji said all this with his mouth still full of stolen food. He swallowed and gave you a mischievous smirk. "He has really nice hands too."

"Yuuji!"

"They're big and his fingers are long but not too skinny, they kind of remind me of Megumi's-"

"Who the fuck are you talking about?"

You stiffened as Yuuji's older brother walked in, scratching his bare midriff since he seemed to have once again forgot that wearing shirts was an expected human behavior. Even though he was only a few years older than you and Yuuji, he always seemed larger than life. Maybe because you had known him for so long.

"Yuuta, this guy I work with," Yuuji said, pouting when his brother stole some of the food off his plate. Served him right. "Hey! I asked you if you wanted anything before I ordered it."

"And I told you, I don't want any of this garbage. I'm just sampling," Sukuna said as he popped another piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Go eat your stupid healthy food then and leave our garbage alone," Yuuji protested pushing the plate out of Sukuna's reach. Naturally, this led to Sukuna shoving Yuuji's head into the table as he reached over and stole more food off the tray in the middle.

"So why are you talking about Yuuta's hands anyway. You and Fushiguro finally call it quits?" Sukuna's tone was casual but you had once seen him knock out a guy for groping Megumi in a club. If the day came where Yuuji and Megumi actually broke up, you think he might take turns knocking sense into both of them.

"Mnat mor me."

"Huh," Sukuna said even as he kept Yuuji's face pressed to the table. You rolled your eyes.

"He's saying that he's not the one interested, he's trying to set me up with him." You tried to push down the guilt you felt as you spoke after all you had nothing to be guilty about.

There was a flash of something in Sukuna's eyes but it was gone before you could identify it and with one last shove that had Yuuji groaning, he let him up.

"That hurt, you bastard!"

"Not an insult, I'm literally a bastard," Sukuna said and Yuuji rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, anyway, back to helping you get laid-"

"Hey!"

"-I'll let Yuuta know you'll meet him at six?"

"Can you make it eight, only old people eat at six." Yuuji nods and goes to type something in his phone. There's an awkward silence that he doesn't seem to notice and you can't help but look at Sukuna who hasn't taken his eyes off you.

"Didn't realize you were so desperate," Sukuna says and Yuuji doesn't look up from his phone before throwing a punch at him. Sukuna dodges, his eyes still on you.

"There's nothing wrong with going on a date," you say and you wonder who you're convincing. "It has been a while since a nice guy took me out."

"Ah right, I forgot you liked nice guys." His tone is too knowing and you feel yourself flush.

"Stop picking on her, Sukuna. Don't you need to be going to the gym, anyway?" Yuuji asks, finally putting down his phone. He seems to attribute the current tension for you and Sukuna's usual animosity. You wonder if that's all there is to it. Sukuna scoffs and walks back to his room. You still weren't sure why he'd even come out in the first place.

"Whatever, you two have fun planning the wedding," he says, his tone making your hackles rise.

"Say hi to Uraume for me," Yuuji calls back, oblivious. "Tell them I still want a rematch after last week."

Sukuna waves a hand before shutting the door to his room. Yuuji turns back to you and the two of you talk about other topics while your mind wanders.

You weren't doing anything wrong. Were you?

You and Yuuji decide to meet up with Megumi and Nobara for a movie before you need to get ready for your date. While Yuuji goes to his room to change, you head to the kitchen to clean up the remains of lunch.

You're putting some glasses in the sink when you feel a warm presence at your back. You can't hold back your sigh as a familiar pair of thick arms comes to wrap around your waist and a pair of lips presses gently against your neck.

"I haven't seen you in forever," Sukuna murmurs, the movement of his lips against your neck sending a familiar pulse of want to your core. You tell yourself not to let the soft gesture get to you. He never did shit like this without a purpose and his usual purpose isn't going to be fulfilled with Yuuji in the next room.

"You saw me last week, Sukuna," you remind him before leaning away from him to close the dishwasher. His hands slip down to your hips and you just know he's staring at your ass. You roll your eyes even as he pulls you back to him once you're standing. His hands pressing into the curve of your hips, putting pressure on them in that way that makes you melt.

"That's too long, princess. I was getting lonely," he teases and you feel him smirk against your cheek. "You must be lonely too."

"Actually I'm just fine," you tell him but you tilt your head so he can kiss the skin of your face, your neck, the parts of your shoulders revealed by the stretched collar of your old t-shirt. You let him lull you into a false sense of security before he reminds you why that's a bad idea.

"Really? I just assumed you felt lonely and that's why you were agreeing to go on dates with losers you've never even met."

There it was. This was why you couldn't let Sukuna get soft with you. He never did it without returning your vulnerability with malice.

"Sukuna," you say and you go to pull his arms off you but he pushes you into the counter, you wince as the cold stone presses against your body. "Let go of me." Your tone is calm even as emotions band their way across your throat.

"I would, but you seem to get lost when I let you out of my sights. I mean you're going to go on a date with some high school teacher?"

"Your brother literally has the same job?"

"Well, are you going to fuck my brother too?"

"For fuck's sake, Sukuna, get off me!"

Sukuna does let you go but only so he can turn you to face him.

Sukuna doesn't get mad the way normal people do. Usually he's just amused, maybe even mildly annoyed, but blatant rage isn't his thing. After your years of-acquaintanceship? light antagonism?-friendship, you recognized this as the stage where he was about to make his insults increasingly personal until you needed to go cry in the bathroom later.

"We are not dating," you tell him and he rolls his eyes.

"Obviously."

"Therefore, I can go on dates with other people."

"I don't give a fuck if you go on dates with other people."

"Great, because I'm going to go on this date tonight."

"Good for you."

"Yes, yes it is good for me!"

"You seem really happy with your choices," Sukuna goads in that tone of his. You hate that tone.

"I am. I don't plan on just accepting whatever scraps some loser will throw me when there are actually decent guys who want a real relationship."

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wasn't being subtle," you tell him before leaning back against the counter. Going for casual, knowing you're not quite hitting it. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. You can't give what you don't have, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Sukuna bites out and if he was anyone else, you would think you'd hurt his feelings but this wasn't anyone else and there was no way something you said bother him.

"You're just not a relationship person and that's-that's fine, I knew that before we started this thing. It's just, sometimes I want more." You soften your tone from earlier but it doesn't do anything to relieve the tension between the two of you.

"And this, Yuka is going to give you that?" He sounds bitter and he's not touching you. You'd been the one to tell him to back off but you couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had his hands on you in some way when it was just the two of you.

"I think his name was Yuuta," you correct before his expression tells you this is the wrong step.

"Right, okay. You know what, you go on your date and have the best time with Yuuta. I got places to be."

He brushes past you and goes back to his room just as Yuuji opens the door to his.

"Geez, what's his problem?" He asks as he makes his way over to you. You shrug your shoulders and he takes your lack of response as just your normal discontent with his brother and wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, he's just a dick."

"I know," you tell him and you do. You know Sukuna's true nature better than most.

You two make your way out of the apartment so you can make your movie and you try to ignore the guilt you feel as Yuuji talks to you.

"You know, he's actually been in a better mood the past few months. I think he might actually be seeing someone. Can you imagine who would be crazy enough to actually date that asshole?"

new series? wrote this to get the rust off so we'll see.

[alchemistc]

eta: based on my spiral in the tags of this post

Tommy's quiet as Buck nuzzles his nose into his neck, fingers stretched wide against Buck's back, rubbing absentmindedly.

Buck tilts his gaze up. He's staring at the ceiling.

There's nothing wrong with a little ceiling staring. Buck is actually a really big fan of ceiling staring, when needed, but Tommy's been so good at being a sounding board when Buck needs it, way better than the silently judgey rafters, and Buck wants to return the favor.

"What're you thinking about?"

Tommy hums, lifting his head just a bit, the skin under his chin wrinkling like a shar-pei.

His hand slides up, down, palm lifting so he can swirl his fingers a bit.

Buck's always been a big fan of cuddling, but there's something extra sweet about Tommy's version of it - skin to skin, even if it's just rucking up Buck's shirt so he can get a hand in there, arms and legs all tangled up in each other, his hand always drawing aimless patterns. Buck's getting too used to it - had caught himself pouting, a little, the last time Tommy hugged him in a rush out the door and didn't do the little circular motion against the small of Buck's back that usually indicated when a hug was over. He's a little worried someone else is gonna hug him and he's gonna melt into it, tuck his face into someone inappropriate's neck.

"Eddie asked me something earlier, and I didn't have a clue how to answer it."

Buck tips his chin against Tommy's chest, a little eager at the idea of providing answers. Tommy knows how much he likes that.

"What about?"

"About you." He pinches at Buck's side. "Us, technically."

Oh. Well. Buck doesn't have facts and figures and statistics about that. Yet.

He hums.

"He wanted to know why I don't call you Buck."

"Do you two talk about me enough for him to notice that?" He's pretending not to be pleased about that. He's doing a shitty job, but still.

Tommy blows out a breath, hands drifting down, over the hem of Buck's briefs to squeeze. "You are one of the things we have in common. It's not all shirtless men beating the crap out of each other and trauma bonding over enemy gunfire," he says, wry, fingers sliding over Buck's ass and around to his hip, no real intention in the motion, just touching to touch.

And that's - oh that's kinda nice. The idea of that, just being a shared interest between them.

"I didn't know what to say," he continues, like he can't see Buck really fucking enjoying the idea of being a topic of conversation between his boyfriend and his best friend. "You introduced yourself as Evan. You've never corrected me, so - I didn't see a reason to change it up."

Buck grins, a little bashful. "Yeah. It took me a while to figure out why I did that."

Tommy raises a brow, hands still wandering as he waits for Buck to expand on that.

"Buck was a work thing, to start," he tells him, still working his way through it, because he's only recently considered exactly why he'd never told Tommy to call him Buck. "And then the 118 kind of became my family, and Buck - it just felt like Buck was who I was. The person I wanted to be. Evan was just - the guy I was before I found my people." Tommy's hand sweeps over his back. "And, like - I never hated that guy. Evan. He was just - he was just there, in the background. People only used it when they had something serious to say." Except his parents, but that - that's not the point he's trying to make, anyway.

"Good serious or bad serious?"

"Just - important. Something - something that needed both of those parts of me to be present in the moment."

Tommy hums. "So when we met, and you introduced yourself..."

"I think I was just trying to manufacture some intimacy." Buck admits, like he hadn't spent a ceiling-staring evening of his own figuring out this exact thing. "Get you to call me sweetheart right out the gate."

Tommy's eyes go soft and sweet. Buck never means to do this, give Tommy all these chick flick moments of introspection, but when they stumble into his lap he can't deny the little thrill that races up his spine at the sight of Tommy tucking them away. Tommy's hand settles between his shoulder blades, fingers spanning wide. "I'm not telling Eddie that," he teases, and Buck nips at his arm in retaliation.

[calthinez]

Pink, Sweet smelling dust

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: While on a witch hunt, you and Dean get some sort of dust thrown on you. After Dean ganks her, you two high-tail it to the bunker thinking the worst. Turns out that witch got her dusts mixed up and hit you guys with an aphrodisiac.

A/N: I heart Dean Winchester. The relationship between the two of you is unspecified and its implied that this is the first time you guys are having sex. I love the sex pollen au :P

Warnings: NSFW(18+) car sex, rough sex, unprotected sex

Your heart was beating so fast. You could figure out if it was from the fear of what was to come from that dust, or if it was from the dust. Looking up at Dean, he seems to be taking this a lot better than you, or he was at least pretending to.

The two of you were fast-paced walking to the Impala, not even caring to clean up the mess that was made. "Your heart beating fast, too?" You asked, voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. We'll be fine." Dean said as he fished his car keys out of his pockets. You couldn't tell if he actually believed that, though, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. The hunt was going fine right up until she blew pink, sweet smelling dust into your faces. "What the fuck was that?" Dean had yelled at her. She only gave him a dry laugh in response with a suspenseful "You'll see"

Dean had no hesitation when he shot her in the chest, only checking to make sure she was actually dead before grabbing you and high- tailing to the car.

Once the two of you got in the car Dean wasted no time putting the key in the ignition. You barely had time to buckle your seat belt before he sped off, causing the dirt on the road to fly into the air. Even with Dean going thirty over the speed limit, the car ride is at least half an hour long. You have no idea how your going to survive that, especially with the growing ache between your legs.

The only thing you can think about is your doomed fate. There was no time-limit on how long this would take before it ends the both of you. For all you know it would take only a minute.

Dean notices the anxiousness spread all across your face. He reaches his hand over the comfortingly pats your knee. You realize hes trying to make you feel less scared but you suddenly become hyper-aware of your body and how hot you feel.

Its just his hand on my knee. You think to yourself. There's no reason to get all excited from that.

He leaves his hand on your knee, and all you can think about now is where else he could put his hands. On your thighs? On your chest? In your mouth? Inside of you- You shudder and close your eyes tightly at that thought.

Its not that you haven't thought about Dean like that, you were sure just about everyone who met him has. You just never had it take such a big effect on you especially when you're right next to him.

Dean takes your shudder as a shudder of anxiety, so he trails his hand up ever so slightly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thigh.

The only sound in the car is the humming from the engine, none of Deans usual songs playing. At a time like this, you wish the radio was on to distract you.

You stick out your tongue to wet your dry lips. Deans hand that isn't on your thigh is gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are turning white. His movements are stiff and his eyes are locked on the road, not sparing you a glance. You wonder if he has the same problem as you, if he also has an ache between his legs. You quickly glance down to his pants and see that, yes, he does have the same problem, the large tent in his pants being painfully obvious.

Dean turns his head immediately to you when you let out a little whimper at the sight of his bulge. You avoid eye contact, desperately staring out of the car window.

"You okay?" he asks you, his gruff voice adding to the fire in your belly.

"Yup," you squeak out. What is this man doing to you? You can hardly think straight.

Dean doesn't believe you, not in the slightest. It takes a minute for the gears in his head to turn before he realizes; you feel the same way he does. He originally chocked it up to you being scared, but he knows that is not the case. Dean slides his hand up higher on your thigh, you suck in a quick breath at the feeling.

"You sure?" He asks you with an underlying tone of arousal. You look back to him as you angle your leg to lean towards his body. "Mhm." You mumble out.

The fingers on your upper thigh slowly creep to the junction of your hip and thigh, there Dean rubs small circles into your flesh. His touch is lighting you on fire. Your breathing picks up and the ache between your legs rapidly intensifies.

On the old dirt roads Dean pulls off to the side, stopping close to the trees that line the road. He puts the car in park and turns off the vehicle. There was no cars on the road this late at night, It was just you two.

"You feel it too?" He asks you, just incase this is actually just one big coincidence and he read into it too much.

You nod your head yes and unbuckle your seat belt, Dean does the same. There is a pregnant pause where the both of you just look at each other, unsure of what to do. You cannot take this feeling anymore, though. You almost pounce on Dean. You crash your lips against his as his hand come up to hold your jaw in place. The kiss is messy, unsynchronized with teeth bumping against teeth and tongues sloppily licking at each other's mouth.

Dean uses his free hand to push you back onto the flat seat of the car. It's a good thing that the car has the big bench seats or else this would be a lot more uncomfortable. You're now laying down under Dean, his hand roughly grabbing at your boobs. You moan into the kiss.

Dean roughly pulls down your pants, leaving you in just your panties. All embarrassment you might have had has been overshadowed by your need to be fucked by Dean. You bring your hand down to grip Deans hard cock through his pants, he lets out a hoarse moan at the friction. You make work on unbuttoning his pants and also pulling them down.

Skipping all foreplay it seems you both feel like you'll explode if you aren't fucking as soon as possible, hell, you actually might. You pull down Deans boxers just low enough for you to free his cock. You jerk him a few times before he breaks the kiss. "Can I fuck you?" He says, you're literally jerking him off but he just wants to make sure. Ever the gentleman.

You enthusiastically nod your head up and down, giving him the go-ahead.

He takes his cock in his own hand and uses his other hand to push your panties to the side, allowing him access to your wet pussy. He pushed into you, both of you releasing pent up moans. His cock is big, and you barely have anytime to adjust to his size before he roughly grabs your hips with both of his hands and starts thrusting into you.

Dean leans down to your neck to kiss and suck on your pulse point as you're moaning sweet praises to him, urging him to keep going. The windows start to fog up from both of your heavy breaths being released. Its an erotic scene, thats for sure. The both of you in the front seat fucking like you're depraved.

There's definitely going to be bruises on your hips, you think to yourself. You lock your legs around Deans torso. Deans moans are like music to your ears, going straight to your impending orgasm. Your nails scratch at his back.

"Fuck- I'm close." You moan out into Deans ear.

"Yeah me too, sweetheart." His pace never relents, though, even with his orgasm quickly approaching. If anything it speeds up.

You can feel the coil in your belly tighten like no other time before. Your hands are grasping and clawing at Deans shoulders as your back arches, pushing your chest to his.

The coil in your belly snaps hard. Harder than any time before. You screw your eyes shut and loudly cry out as you cum around Deans cock.

It takes Dean no time to be cumming, as well. He cums inside of you, not that you care you're too fucked out to be thinking about anything other than your orgasm.

You slowly release your legs' hold on Deans waist. The both of you trying to catch your breath from your climax. He slowly pulls out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. Dean sits back up-right on the seat and you follow suit. You fix your panties and pull your pants up.

The both of you just sit in silence for a moment, collecting your thoughts. You notice that you no longer feel anxious or ill, like the sex completly cured you... Oh. You think you figured it out. You open your mouth to say someting to the man next to you but he beats you to it.

"I think it was a sex powder."

[you-have-a-metal-arm]

‘Til The End of The Line

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, shooting and getting hurt

Summary: You get injured in a mission, and Bucky cannot bear to see you in such state.

Author's Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. English is not my first language, so please understand grammar or spelling mistakes.

I am so sorry for being gone (school’s been killing me)

I appreciate every feedback! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

“Ready to kick some ass, kiddo?” Steve’s voice was calm, almost soothing, but you could hear the adrenaline beneath his words as the two of you adjusted your parachutes. The jet engines hummed around you, a subtle reminder of the mission ahead.

You grinned, giving your suit one last check and tightening your grip on the gun in your hand. “Yeah, I’m gonna beat the shit out of them.”

Steve smiled, not bothering to correct your language. With him, you were always an exception.

Moments later, the wind was whipping against your face as you both jumped from the jet, splitting off into the night sky. Steve took the left wing—the more dangerous side—leaving you the right. Tony had assured you it was safer, but as you slid through the narrow gap in the door, the freezing cold hit you like a wall. The air inside was frigid, bitterly reminding you of Bucky’s stories about the winters he hated so much.

“As far as I can see, it’s clear here. How’s the situation there?” Steve’s voice crackled through the comms, full of concern. You knew he cared for you deeply, saw you as the daughter he never had, and would have taken a bullet to ensure your safety.

“It’s clear here too, Cap,” you replied, trying to ease his worry.

“Let’s stick to the plan: I’ll draw out the agents while you head straight to the operations room and grab their file IV data.”

“Copy that. Be safe, Cap—and I mean it. If you need help, just call me.”

“I will, kiddo. Be safe yourself. And promise to call me if you need anything.”

“I promise. Let’s fucking go.”

You raced through the deserted corridors of the right wing, a dagger in one hand and a fully loaded gun tucked into your suit for emergencies. The cold air bit at your skin, the silence amplifying every footstep. Suddenly, a loud, thunderous noise echoed behind you. Instinctively, you thought it was Steve, but it wasn’t. The sound was coming from your side of the building.

Before you could react, you were ambushed by over twenty armed agents.

On the other side of the wing, Steve was facing his own battle. He tossed a grenade down a hallway, expecting a swarm of enemies, but only three agents rushed at him. Something was wrong. There should have been more.

“Shit,” you hissed into the comms, struggling against the overwhelming odds. Steve heard the panic in your voice, but he couldn’t respond—one of the agents had him in a chokehold. His grip tightened on the comms as he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, followed by a loud thud that made his blood run cold.

“Kiddo, you okay?” Steve managed to gasp out, but all he got in return was a pained groan.

“I’ll get to you in less than a minute, I promise,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. He could hear your labored breathing through the comms, and it was tearing him apart.

“Steve…” Your voice was faint, each word a struggle.

“Hmm?” he replied, trying to sound reassuring despite the dread clawing at his chest.

“Are the comms… still being recorded?”

Steve’s heart sank. He knew what you were doing, and he hated it. “Yes, kiddo, if there weren’t any changes to the plans, it’s on record.”

You exhaled shakily, the breath catching in your throat. There was only one person you needed to reach out to. “Buck…”

As soon as Steve heard the name, he knew the weight of what you were about to say. Even after four years of being together, Bucky’s name still brought shivers to your spine, thick with emotion.

“If by any chance you get to listen to this, Buck—”

“Y/N, kiddo, no, you’re not dying. I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t know that…” Your voice was helpless, a reflection of your dwindling strength.

“Just stay there. I’m on my way. Please, don’t give up on us.”

But a part of Steve knew this might be your last moment. It was an instinct, a gut-wrenching feeling that he couldn’t shake. So he didn’t stop you from saying what you needed to.

“If you get a chance to listen to this…” You fought to keep your eyes open, tears mingling with the blood on the cold metal floor. Your mind flashed with the future you had imagined—a life with Bucky, growing old together, watching your children grow up. “In another life, we might—maybe we could have grown old together.”

Steve’s heart clenched as your voice wavered. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, but he knew there was nothing he could do except listen.

“I wish I could have given you babies,” you continued, your voice cracking with emotion. “Watched them grow in our backyard… I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to give you that life.”

Your vision blurred as sleepiness started to consume you. You fought against it with everything you had, but the darkness was closing in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry that this is how it ends for us… I’m really sorry.”

“And if this is how it really ends… Promise me you’ll find someone else to love, to open up to. Find someone else… Call someone else ‘doll.’ And don’t grieve too much.”

The darkness was overwhelming now. You felt it pulling you under, felt the life draining from your body as blood poured from your wounds. “You deserve to be happy… And the past doesn’t—doesn’t define you.”

Your last words were barely a whisper. “I… Love you, Buck. And I’m sorry I couldn’t say that more often.”

And then… silence. The darkness consumed you, and Steve heard nothing but the empty static of the comms. He refused to believe it, refused to accept that you were gone. He sprinted through the hallways, throwing open every door until he found you, lying motionless on the floor, your suit stained crimson with blood.

He scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, his legs pumping with every ounce of energy he had left. The jet’s engines hummed steadily, but inside the cabin, chaos reigned. Steve knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he assessed your injuries. The bullets had done their damage—one near your heart, another through your stomach, and the last through your left arm. Blood pooled beneath you, soaking through your suit.

“Kiddo, hang in there, please,” Steve murmured, his voice tight with fear. He grabbed the medical kit from the overhead compartment, spilling its contents across the floor. His hands worked quickly, tearing open a pack of gauze and pressing it firmly against the wounds. The bleeding was relentless, and he knew he needed to act fast to save your life.

You were pale, your breathing shallow and irregular. It was a miracle you were still breathing at all. Steve knew he had to stabilize you before they landed, or you wouldn’t make it. His mind raced through the limited medical training he had received—enough to get through emergencies, but nothing like this.

He fumbled with an IV kit, his hands shaking as he tried to insert the needle into your arm. Your veins were fragile, but after what felt like an eternity, he got it in. He attached a bag of saline solution, knowing it was only a temporary measure.

“Stay with me, kiddo. Buck won’t be so happy about this,” Steve whispered, his voice trembling. Your pulse was faint, but still there. He applied more pressure to the wound, checking if you were breathing again. It was labored, but there were no signs of a collapsed lung, thank God.

He grabbed the portable oxygen mask and gently placed it over your mouth and nose, adjusting the flow to give you the support you desperately needed. Your chest rose and fell slightly more steadily—a small victory amid the chaos.

With one hand still applying pressure to the wound, Steve fumbled with the jet’s communications system. “Friday, please check if the team is ready for immediate surgery.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Stark has everything prepared, and Dr. Cho is on standby.”

“Can you connect me directly to Tony?”

“Connecting now, sir.”

“Cap, how is she?” Tony’s voice crackled through, tense with concern.

“I think I stabilized her. We’re landing in three minutes, max. Thank God this jet has autopilot, or else… she wouldn’t have made it.”

Tony was silent for a moment. It wasn’t the time for pride or self-congratulation. He was kicking himself for not being more cautious, for not having medics onboard, for underestimating the mission. You were the youngest, the brightest member of the Avengers, and he couldn’t bear to lose you.

Steve checked the wound again. The bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped. He packed the wound with more gauze, securing it tightly. You needed a blood transfusion, surgery—everything he couldn’t provide here. All he could do was keep you stable until they landed.

“Tony, do me one favor,” Steve said, his voice thick as he wiped the blood from your cheeks. “Please… Don’t let Bucky see her like this. He won’t be able to handle it.”

But Tony’s response was firm. “Sorry, Cap. James already knows. He’s waiting at the airbase. And he has the right to see her.”

Steve nodded, though his heart ached at the thought. “Okay, Tony, thanks… We’re almost there.”

The jet descended, the lights of the airbase coming into view. Steve cradled you close, whispering words of comfort that he wasn’t sure you could hear. “We’re going to make it, kiddo. Just hold on a little longer.”

As the jet landed, the hatch opened to reveal Tony, Dr. Cho, and Bucky. Bucky’s face was ashen, his eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of you. Steve gently handed you over to Dr. Cho and her team, who rushed you to the medical bay. Bucky stood frozen, staring at the blood that covered Steve’s hands and suit.

“She’s alive, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice raw with exhaustion. “But she needs you now more than ever. Don’t lose hope.”

Bucky nodded, swallowing hard. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the sight of you lying there so still. He followed the team as they wheeled you into surgery, praying with everything he had left that you would survive this.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

THERE’S GOING TO BE A PART 2 by Sunday

Part 2 is up y’all

[loudstan]

How to (not) Write a Book

Summary: For Taeyong, asking his mate out was easy. The hard part was not fucking her brains out every time he saw her.

Pairing: Werewolf! Taeyong x Female reader

Warnings: uh...smut as usual. Y/N is horny, bubu snaps at some point and...yeah she fucks around and finds out I guess. Also I made him cry, sorry

 You wanted inspiration and you had found it alright. This town had everything you could need to write your next book: witches, vampires, werewolves and you had even heard you could stumble upon a few faes if you went deep into the forest, which was amazing because faes were becoming a popular topic in literature and your editor was pushing you to write about them.  

The cheap motel where you were staying(which was probably haunted), the lively streets, and even the coffee shop you had just found were out of this world; the cozy interior was illuminated by candles and plates filled with cake magically floated towards their designated table while the baristas prepared beverages that smelled heavenly. 

Too mesmerized by what was happening around you made your way to the counter without looking where you were going and accidentally bumped into a customer who was picking up his order.

“Sorry!” you quickly said. “My bad, I wasn’t paying atten–”

The customer turned around and gasped loudly, dropping his coffee. 

Ok? That was either a very delayed reaction, or you looked ugly enough to scare the poor guy as soon as he saw you. You didn’t want to cause trouble in a foreign land, so you quickly grabbed some tissues from the counter and tried your best to clean the stains of coffee on his clothes.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll buy you a new one,” you insisted, panicking at his lack of reaction. He was just standing there, frozen like a statue.

You finally looked at his face and it was now your turn to gasp.

He was the most alluring person you had ever seen. Was he a fae? A vampire? He had to be a creature who used his beauty to attract his prey, otherwise, it would make no sense that he looked like that. 

“You’re beautiful,” you blurted out and regretted it immediately. Who says that to a stranger?

The man’s eyes sparkled, and his cheeks turned pink as his mouth morphed into a grin. The sight of his pointed teeth heightened his charming face, which you could only describe as unfairly perfectly symmetrical. The universe really had its favorites. 

He didn’t only have natural beauty; his hair was also perfectly styled to match an attire, clearly tailored to his body, and his perfume overpowering the aroma of coffee smelled expensive.

You cleared your throat before trying to communicate once again. “Uh, sorry about that. Are you okay?”

 He licked his lips and his reddened eyes scanned your entire frame, but his only reply was what sounded like a satisfied hum. It was a simple sound, but it did something to you.

It sent shivers down your spine and your heart beat at an erratic pace. Your face felt hot and your body weakened, your legs trembled, and suddenly the room was spinning around you.

But the man’s arms held you in place before you fell flat on the floor and then he pressed your body against his with urgency. 

 His warmth added to the mixture of strange sensations, but even if your body wasn’t functioning properly, your brain was on high alert: if this man had caused you to react like this against your will, then he surely wasn’t human.

You let out a silent cry when his lips caressed your neck. 

Oh no. A vampire. Just your luck. You were going to die.

“I found you,” he murmured against your skin. His voice was way too raspy and deep for such a delicate face like his, and it made you tremble from head to toes. 

Your heart was beating so fast and hard you could hear it. You would probably have a heart attack before he killed you. You whimpered in fear, but a small part of you liked his warmth surrounding you. Why were you suddenly feeling…good? Now you had no doubt he was a vampire, playing with his food by making you feel pleasure before devouring you. 

“Why do you smell distressed?” He purred, sounding a little wounded, and then you felt teeth against your pulse. 

This was it. You couldn’t believe your life would end like this.

You sobbed quietly and closed your eyes, preparing for what was coming, but suddenly you were on the floor, away from the man’s hold. 

You blinked twice and slowly started becoming aware of what was happening around you; the customers and staff were screaming and backing away from the commotion, the beautiful man you had assumed was a vampire was on the floor too, in the opposite corner of the cafe.  Between you and him there was another young man, who the vampire was glaring at furiously.

“What the fuck, Mark?” he hissed.

Mark gulped. His pale face and tense posture showed he was terrified, but he didn’t back down. “Taeyong hyung, you need to calm down.”

“Move,” Taeyong growled.

“I really don’t think this is the right–Oh my god,” he whined when the older bore his teeth and stood up.

 Taeyong tried to walk towards you, but Mark blocked the way.

“Are you challenging your alpha?” Taeyong gnarled.

Mark shook his head but when Taeyong tried to push him out of the way, he locked his arms around the leader solidly and they both fell on the floor, wrestling as their roars made the store’s windows shake and people ran away in terror. 

You tried to get up too, but your legs wouldn’t respond and you could only watch in fear at the animalistic display of power in front of you. 

Soon Mark was forced into submission by Taeyong, but he still made weak attempts to stop him from reaching for you.

In that moment you heard hurried steps and three more men jumped on top of Taeyong, who was furious at their insolence. 

A black haired man checked on Mark, before turning to the source of the riot.

“Taeyong, stop!’

“You don’t tell me what to do, Doyoung,” Taeyong snarled, trying to free himself from his captors. “Get off me!” he growled, jabbing and kicking at them.

“Don’t do this, Taeyong. Not like this,” Doyoung begged, holding Taeyong’s face in his hands. “You’re scaring her.”

Something clicked in Taeyong he stopped struggling. He looked around and saw that the coffee shop had been destroyed, some people were hiding under the tables, and Mark’s lower lip was bleeding. Finally, his eyes landed on your terrified ones and he was consumed by shame and guilt.

“I–” he wanted to apologize, but his body was overwhelmed and before he could say another word, he fell unconscious in his friends’ arms.

The group of men holding him let out a synchronized sigh.  

“That was horrifying,” Mark was the first one to speak, sitting on a chair nearby and wincing in pain.

“Jungwoo, please take Mark to a healer,” Doyoung requested. “Johnny, Jaehyun! Help me take Taeyong home.”

“Sure, I think I could use a visit to the healer myself,” Jungwoo said, limping slightly while walking out with Mark. 

“I had never seen him this…feral,” Jaehyun said.

“He does get a bit too brutal during his rut, but this was…,” Johnny trailed off, not sure of how to finish that sentence. “If Mark hadn’t been here, that girl…”

“The girl!” Doyoung quickly turned around to check on you but you were nowhere to be found. “I guess she ran away…”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” Jaehyun asked rethorically, as they all carried their leader to the car. 

“I doubt she’ll want to see Taeyong after this,” Johnny said.

“She’ll understand once we explain it to her,” Doyoung assured them.

“If we manage to find her again,” Jaehyun murmured.

You had been holding your breath until you heard them leave, hiding behind the abandoned counter. 

“Thank god it’s over!” a relieved voice exclaimed next to you, making you jump and yelp. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not dangerous! I was hiding here too! This is my coffee shop,” the man quickly explained. “My name is Taeil.”

“Oh– I’m Y/N…” you mumbled. “Sorry for the mess…”

“It’s not your fault, don’t worry. I’ll have a word with the pups later.”

“Pups?”

“Werewolves,” he said, grabbing a couple of cups from the shelf.

“Oh…OH! They said something about an alpha,” you remembered, trying to make sense of the whole situation. “So he wasn’t a vampire after all. He must have been close to his rut.”

“Yeah…you could say that,” the man partially agreed, offering you a cup of coffee. “On the house. This is embarrassing to admit but I’m a member of the pack who caused all this...”

“You’re a werewolf too?” you asked incredulously and let him guide you to a table that hadn’t been destroyed. “Then why were you hiding?”

“It was scary,” he shrugged and sat down across the table.

You let out an incredulous laugh and took a sip of your coffee. This guy was being serious but somehow he made everything sound hilarious. 

“Something’s different about you,” he suddenly said, observing you carefully. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“I’m not,” you replied. “I’m here for business. I’m writing a book about some creatures that live here.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Something like that, yes,” you admitted, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s why I came. I’m hoping to rent a place near the forest to observe the faes.”

“Faes?” Taeil’s lips turned downwards. “Those are a bit too dangerous, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be careful.”

“There are so many other creatures to write about,”  he insisted.

“I’m really interested in faes,” you said. “And there isn’t quite enough literature about them, so I thought I should talk to them in person to understand them better.”

“Talk to them?” he repeated incredulously. “You definitely shouldn’t do that…”

“I heard I can find some in the East Forest,” you pressed, ignoring his apprehension. “Is that true?”

“...It is,” he conceded. “But there aren’t any places to rent in there,” he quickly added.

“I’ll just camp in the woods,” you shrugged.

The man choked on his coffee and coughed loudly. “CAMP?” 

“Just until I finish my book.”

“Oh my god,” he shook his head. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you replied without hesitation and finished your drink, ready to leave. “Thanks for the coffee, Taeil!”

“I HAVE A HOUSE FOR RENT! ” He blurted out in panic when he saw you standing up.

You raised your eyebrows. “You said there was no place available near the forest.”

“Technically, there isn’t…,” he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers. “They don’t build homes near the forest because of the faes… but I own a little hut, not too deep into the woods, which I was using to store some stuff…”

“For real?” you asked excitedly. 

He nodded, taking out his phone and showing you some pictures of the place. It was a small, lovely, wooden hut surrounded by trees. 

“It’s not furnished, but I could get it ready for you in about a week,” the kind werewolf offered because he clearly didn’t want you to camp in the forest. “But you would have to promise me to stay inside the house at night.”

“Why?”

“Faes become… restless when the sun goes down. If you really need to talk to one of them, do it during the day.” 

You nodded and took mental note of an interesting new fact about faes. Then you asked a few more questions about the house, which he replied to, along with giving you some extra safety tips before offering you to rent the place for an incredibly low price. 

“Thank you so much!” you exclaimed happily, forgetting about what had happened earlier with the Taeyong, thrilled at the idea of moving to such a nice place, for cheap and meeting some of your favorite magical creatures. 

“No problem,” he said, handing you back your phone where he had added his contact information for you two to seal the deal later. “No one’s staying there at the moment, so it’s not an issue,” he added, walking you to the door and bidding you goodbye.

You thanked him again and happily walked back to the motel you were currently staying in. 

“Where were you?!” Johnny asked Taeil when he arrived home. “It’s your own cafe. How did you just disappear?”

“I was hiding behind the counter,” Taeil admitted shamelessly.

“Wow, thanks a lot, hyung” Mark said sarcastically from the sofa, holding a cold pack against his cheek.

“I’m not strong. I would have been useless anyway,” Taeil said. “I found Taeyong’s mate, by the way. Her name’s Y/N.”

“ Is she okay?” Doyoung asked, entering the living room. 

“She’s fine, it looks like she forgot about the whole incident already.”

“Do you know where to find her?” Jungwoo asked.

“Yes, well…about that…I need some help casting a protection spell on my old hut in the woods… because she’ll be living there,” Taeil trailed off as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bunch of herbs and salt. 

“WHAT?!” Doyoung hissed, following Taeil to the kitchen. “That area is infested with faes!”

“She has a thing for faes,” Taeil replied. “She was going to camp in the woods just to study them and write about it in her book.”

“Ah, so she’s a lunatic,” Jungwoo said.

“She’ll go to the forest no matter what, so I offered that hut because then we can at least know where she is and protect the place.”

“That’s actually smart,” Doyoung conceded and started looking for some herbs to help with the spell.

“We need to buy a bed and some other stuff because that house is empty right now,” Taeil added.

“Alright, to IKEA we go,” Jaehyun sighed and stood up. 

“I’ll go with you!” Jungwoo yelled happily.

“No,” Jaehyun groaned. “It takes you forever to choose what to buy.”

“And you have terrible taste in furniture,” Jungwoo replied. “Always buying the cheapest shit.”

“The bed can’t be cheap,” Johnny said. “Remember Taeyong can potentially spend his rut there. And you guys know how he gets.”

As if on cue, they heard a loud crash followed by the squeaking noise of the bed dragging back and forth on the floor mixed with guttural moans coming from the second floor.

“Looks like he’s awake…,” Mark mumbled, getting pale again, thinking that his leader would have his head after what happened at the coffee shop.

“Don’t worry. I secured his room with a spell,” Doyoung quickly assured him. “You’re safe.”

“I don’t know, I think I kinda wanna go to IKEA,” Mark said nervously.

“The more the merrier,” Jungwoo encouraged enthusiastically. 

The next few days were torture for Taeyong. He had a fever, his body ached and his erection wouldn’t disappear no matter how many times he came. He knew the reason: his wolf wouldn’t be satisfied until he claimed his mate. But his pack had put a spell around his room, making it impossible for him to leave, which made sense, because those were the instructions he had given them a long time ago in case he met his mate and couldn’t control himself. His pack had left enough snacks and drinks for him to survive for as long as his rut lasted, and he thankfully had his own private bathroom inside his room, but what he needed was his mate.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong approached the door and called for his friend. “Doyoung, open the door. I need out.”

No answer came from the other side of the door, but Taeyong wouldn’t give up. “I know you’re there. Just let me out. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“…I can’t do that,” Doyoung finally replied, and then he jumped when Taeyong banged on the door loudly.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” The leader yelled, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Please. It hurts,” he pleaded.

“Taeyong…”

“I’ll be gentle,” Taeyong bargained. “I won’t hurt her. I just need to see her, please…”

“I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Doyoung agreed. “But this isn’t you.”

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke through gritted teeth. “Your alpha commands it.”

Doyoung inhaled sharply. Taeyong was using his alpha voice, which made his wolf ache to comply, but he knew if he let him out now, the leader would do something he would regret.

“My best friend is more important than my alpha. I won’t let you fuck this up for yourself. Get back to your senses and then you can see her,” he replied stoically. “Her name is Y/N, by the way,” he added before walking away.

“Y/N…” Taeyong sighed, leaning his head on the cool material of the door. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember your scent and the way you trembled in his arms like a scared bunny. Cute. His wolf loved it. “Oh…” he breathed out, pressing his lower body against the door, slowly humping the barrier that kept him from finding you. This would have to do until he caught you and had you shaking again.

 After a long night of sweating and cumming, he finally reached for one of the many bottles of water they had prepared for him. Three days later he gained enough clarity to eat something. Five days later his member would remain soft for a few hours a day, which allowed him to take a proper break. After a week he had successfully survived what he was sure was the worst rut of his life. He got up slowly, dizzy and sweaty, and took a look at his room: it was in ruins, with clothes and personal belongings scattered on the floor. His bed was disgusting, the bedsheets were sticky and wrinkled, his pillow had been torn apart, and its filling was everywhere. The door was marked with scratches that looked too deep and big to be human, which had to mean he had transformed at some point. If it hadn’t been for the spell, he would have easily broken the door and escaped. 

Taeyong started picking everything up and cleaning the place. Then he jumped into the shower and allowed the hot water to relieve his aching muscles and clear his mind. Slowly, memories of the scene he caused in the coffee shop popped up and he cringed. He had to apologize to so many people now. 

He got dressed in comfy clothes, dried his hair, and attempted to open the damaged door. This time he was able to get out easily, which meant that the spell was meant to last as long as he was in rut. 

Then he took a deep breath in and walked down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise. He heard his pack members laughing loudly over the sound of the TV, which meant it was movie night. It was a good thing that they were together, so he could properly apologize in front of everyone, but his anxiety grew and his eyes started watering as he got closer to his destination.

 He had made a scene and attacked his own pack. What type of leader loses control like that? He was so ashamed he turned back, ready to hide in his room again.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung’s calm voice called for him. Of course Doyoung would notice him before he had the chance to run away.

Taeyong whimpered and looked back, to where his pack was making space for him to sit. They had paused the movie and were looking at him, patiently waiting for him to join in. He bit his lip nervously and sat down. His eyes landed on Mark; he looked fine, but there was still a small bruise on his face as evidence of what he had done to him. Mark caught him staring and offered him a reassuring smile. Tears finally rolled down Taeyong’s cheeks.

“Mark, I–,” the leader sobbed and hid his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hyung, I’m fine,” Mark said softly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“You did him a favor,” Haechan added. “I think you fixed his nose.”

Taeyong snorted mid-sob at the unexpected joke and wiped his tears with the back of his hand, letting out a soft giggle.

“Everyone’s fine,” Jaehyun said, patting his leader’s back comfortingly. 

“Still, I should have controlled myself,” Taeyong mumbled.

“Pff…if you hadn’t controlled yourself, Mark wouldn’t be here,” Johnny said.

Mark laughed nervously. 

“And the place you destroyed was Taeil hyung’s shop, so no one cares,” Jungwoo said.

“Fuck you, guys,” Taeil said but he was laughing too. “No more free coffee for you.”

There was a pause when the laughter ended and Taeyong looked at Doyoung.

“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that,” he admitted apologetically.

“Oh, that? Your alpha voice isn’t as powerful as you think,” Doyoung shrugged smugly. “I think I’m the real leader of this pack.”

“Didn’t you have a panic attack right after you disobeyed him—“ Yuta tried to ask, but he was quickly interrupted.

“That’s not important now,” Ten interrupted, sitting closer to his leader. “You found your mate!”

Everyone cheered, making Taeyong blush and chuckle. He was overjoyed to finally meet the one he had been waiting for for so long…but then his anxiety came back.

“I don’t think I’m ready though,” he whispered.

“You are,” Doyoung rebutted.

“I almost bit her…”

“She’s fine,” Taeil said. 

 “You’ve helped many of us get together with our mate,” Jaemin agreed. “No one has prepared for this moment more than you.”

“But I didn’t know it would feel like this,” Taeyong said.

“Like what?” Kun asked.

“Like…like I’m some type of animal,” Taeyong groaned. “The things I wanna do to her I just–I feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t—,” he paused and blushed. “...You know…”

“Oh, that’s normal,” Jeno assured him, laughing. 

“It is?” Taeyong asked, surprised. 

“Yeah!” Jeno insisted. “All of us who are mated have gone through that.”

“So it gets better later, right?” the leader asked hopefully.

“No,” a choir of voices replied. 

“But the bond works both ways,” Yuta added. “Soon she’ll be wanting you just as much as you want her.”

Taeyong’s face was hot. He wanted that. He wanted everything with you. “First I have to apologize to her.”

“Good thing we know where to find her,” Doyoung smiled.

Your new temporary home was more than you could ever wish for. It had a perfectly functioning bathroom and a kitchen. It was also fully furnished and excessively decorated in a way that made you think many people had been involved in the process because nothing matched. Your favorite thing was the little window in the kitchen which offered you a beautiful view of the forest while doing the dishes. You often opened the window to feel the breeze, smell the fresh grass and listen to the birds singing, and even if it was getting darker you could catch a glimpse of the stream and— were those eyes?!

You gasped and whoever was hiding far behind the bushes ducked down. They would have been successful if it wasn’t because of their pointy ears peeking out. 

You gasped again, this time out of excitement, and rushed out to meet your visitor. They had to be a fae!

Once you stepped out of the house, and stood near the entrance, waving at the creature, who was still hiding shyly behind the bushes.

“Hi,” you greeted them softly. “It’s okay! I won’t hurt you.”

The fae shifted enough for you to see their beautiful features, they seemed to be a male, with silky dark hair and pale skin. He looked at your house and tilted his head.

“I live here,” you continued talking, pointing at the wooden hut. “Do you live in the forest?” 

He gave you a short nod without taking his eyes off of you. Despite his lethargic expression, he seemed curious.

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself. You had this habit of talking non-stop when you were excited or nervous. “What’s your name?”

The fae’s plump lips twisted into a little smile. “Soobin.”

“Nice to meet you, Soobin! I guess we’re neighbors,” you smiled at him.

 “Sweet,” he whispered.

“Hm?” you asked.

“Smells sweet,” he said this time loud enough to hear, and he stood up, revealing he was way taller than what you expected. He was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a crochet open shirt that didn’t quite cover his lean torso and eclectic necklaces and pendants adorned his neck.

“Oh, that’s probably the pie I baked,” you replied. “Do you want some?”

The man licked his lips and took a step toward you, but then he tensed and glared at a spot on the ground in front of him. “I cannot get closer,” he muttered. 

You stared at the ground too, looking for whatever he was looking at, but you couldn’t see anything. Maybe he just didn’t trust you enough to get closer. 

“Let me bring you a piece, then,” you offered, running back into the kitchen and placing a big piece of fresh pie on a plate. Then you went out to see him waiting for you in the same spot, still glaring at the ground.

You tried to keep your distance while offering him the plate, not wanting to scare him. 

“Closer,” he whispered.

You took a step towards him, but contradictorily he took a step back.

“...May I come closer?” you asked confusedly. 

He nodded and looked at your feet.

You took a hesitant step towards him and he took another step back. It made no sense, but he was smiling now, so you guessed this was what he wanted. 

“Is this okay?” you asked, taking another step.

“Yes,” he chuckled, taking another step back. It seemed to be some type of game for faes. Whatever it was, he looked like he was having fun.

You couldn’t help but laugh too as you took another step, even without understanding the nature of the game. “Closer?”

“Closer,” he agreed. 

You took another step, but he didn’t step back this time. He moved his hands towards you and instead of picking the plate, he grabbed your arms.

 At that moment a growl echoed in the before peaceful forest, catching you by surprise. Soobin looked as confused as you, with his widened eyes scanning the already dark trees around you. He then turned around slightly, while still holding you and you saw it: a big grey wolf lurking behind Soobin, bearing his teeth threateningly. 

“Alpha,” Soobin acknowledged the wolf with a nod.

The animal’s red eyes glared at the fae, trying to communicate something that you couldn’t catch. But Soobin seemed to understand the message.

 “It is past dusk,” the fae said in a defensive tone, never letting go of you. “It is allowed.”

The wolf let out an aggressive snarl, and even you understood that they did not like whatever Soobin was implying.

The fae sighed and he hesitantly let go of your arms. “I do not wish to fight you, alpha. But let it be the last time. Rules are rules.”

“What’s going on?” you asked Soobin, still frozen in your place. 

“Alpha is not happy to see me,” the fae replied simply and took the plate from your hands. “Thank you for the pie,” he added, looking between you to the wolf one last time and walking away with a smile. 

“C-come back anytime!” you offered as you saw him leave. That was not how you expected your first encounter with a fae to go. He seemed to be sweet and willing to be your friend. You had so much you wanted to ask, but then this wolf had to scare him away. Soobin had called him alpha and you knew there was only one pack of werewolves in town. You had met the pack’s alpha before…

“Taeyong,” you turned to look at the wolf angrily. 

The wolf’s ears lowered and he winced. You knew it was him?

“Shift and come in. We need to talk,” you said before stomping back into the house, leaving the door open behind you.

A minute after the man you had met at the coffee shop a week ago and who had almost given you a heart attack stood at your door, fixing his clothes nervously. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his human form. You remembered him being good-looking, but his beauty was surreal. You had to remind yourself you were mad at him.

“Get in and close the door already” you commanded. “It’s getting cold.”

The man hesitated momentarily before finally stepping inside the house and closing the door behind him, but he stayed as far away from you as possible. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

God, why was he so cute?

“You should be,” you replied, setting a couple of plates on the table

“I lost control. I know it’s not an excuse, but–”

“Damn right it isn’t, you scared poor Soobin!”

“I–What?” he asked.

“He was opening up and now I don’t know if he’ll ever come back!” you replied, letting out a frustrated sigh as you searched for cups in the cabinet.

“...That’s what’s bothering you?” he asked.

“Yes! I need to interview a fae!”

“...You were trying to interview him,” he repeated slowly. 

“That’s right, and you interrupted us just when he allowed me to get closer,” you groaned, sitting in one of the chairs and pouring some tea into your cup. “Take a seat,” you told Taeyong. 

You may be mad, but you were still a good host. Taeyong was family to Taeil, and Taeil had been good to you, so you would be good to Taeyong and at least feed him while telling him off.

He bit his lip and sat down on the chair across from you. “I think you got it wrong. He didn’t allow you to get closer, he took you out of the protection circle on purpose.”

“The what?” you asked, biting on a piece of pie.

“The protection circle around this house,” he said as if it was obvious. “Can’t you feel it?”

You swallowed the pastry and looked around, trying to see if there was anything off with the house besides the odd decoration. “Feel what?”

Taeyong tilted his head. Anyone with a tiny bit of magic in their body would be able to notice the house was under a spell. 

Oh…

“You’re not a witch…” he gasped. Taeil said he had sensed something different about your aura but that he wasn’t sure what it was. This had to be it.

“I’m not,” you agreed. 

The color drained from Taeyong’s face. 

“Then what are you doing here?! It’s dangerous!” he whisper-shouted, looking around like he was afraid anyone would hear. 

“I’m writing a book,” you replied.

“About faes?!” he asked. “No, no, no, please. Do you even know what faes do to humans?!”

“...No,” you admitted. “Do you?”

“No! No one knows! They take them away. Make them disappear. That’s why this area is not accessible for tourists and even magic users stay away after sunset!” Taeyong let out a frustrated groan and placed one of his palms on his chest, trying to calm his beating heart. “Didn’t Taeil tell you to go out only during daylight?”

“He did,” you remembered. “But I thought he was overreacting.”

Taeyong could cry because of how stressed he was. Not only did his mate turn out to be human, but she was also clueless and living in an enchanted forest like it was nothing.

He took a deep breath in and tried his best to explain everything calmly. “Faes have been here for centuries, so this land belongs to them. We have no power to tell them what to do, but they at least agreed to make a deal with us and not hunt during the day.”

“...Soobin was…hunting?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. 

Taeyong nodded.

“He was going to take me away…” you whispered, staring blankly at your plate. You weren’t that hungry anymore. How could someone who looked so sweet and innocent be hunting humans? 

“Yes,” the Werewolf grunted. He hated how easily you had followed Soobin out of the protection circle. He hated the way he had touched your arm. He hated thinking about the possibility of you being gone who knows where. You were too careless for a fragile human. 

You both sat there without saying a word until you cleared your throat awkwardly. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he replied softly. “But please don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” you replied. “Sorry…”

“I should be the one to apologize. That’s why I came here today,” he murmured. “The way I behaved at the coffee shop was not okay.”

“...Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering the event. “Well, that was an accident, right?”

“Uh…yes…” he said, sipping on his cup of tea.

“I guess your ruts are irregular,” you hummed.

“My r–,” he blushed and choked. You had thought about him in rut? 

“Do you take suppressants?” you asked casually, not noticing that he was mortified.

“Y-yes.”

“Hmm… That’s odd,” you commented. “Then you shouldn’t have entered your rut so fast and out of nowhere. Did someone trigger it?”

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were wide and glossy, as he stared at you in silence. He tried to think of something to say, but he didn’t want to lie to you nor did he want to scare you. 

You had studied supernatural creatures before, so you were able to put two and two together. 

“...It was me, huh?” you asked.

Oh, well. He was fucked. 

“H-how did you know?” he asked in the smallest voice you had heard, looking away.

You hummed.

“You went straight for my neck, so at first I thought you were a vampire, but you turned out to be a werewolf. I can only think of one reason why you would want to bite my neck.”

Taeyong gulped. He was shaking with anxiety. You probably found him disgusting.

“I’m s-sorry…” he whimpered with difficulty because of the way his breathing had quickened.

“Hey, calm down. Breathe,” you instructed.

“I’ve w-waited for so long I…I didn’t mean to– I just couldn’t-...” 

“Taeyong,” you called his name firmly and held his trembling hands in yours, making him gasp. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control it.”

He was still too terrified to look into your eyes. “I don’t w-want to force you–”

“I know,” you assured him.

“I just w-wanted to get to know you…”

“We can do that,” you conceded.

“...Really?” he finally looked up and his eyes lightened up with hope.

“Really,” you replied. “It’s the least I can do for someone who saved me from being abducted by faes,” you joked, but he didn’t find it funny.

“That’s not why I did it! You don’t owe me anything–”

“I know,” you chuckled. “That’s not the only reason. I also think you’re cute.”

You had broken him. His face was as red as the cherries that adorned the forgotten pie and he was struggling to hold back a shy smile. He sighed, relieved, and now it was his turn to hold your hands in his, bringing them to his chest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sighed. “I’ll do it right, I’ll treat you well, I’ll court you the way you deserve.”

You giggled. “Court me? How about you give me your number first?”

And that’s how you started dating the kindest man you had ever met. He was a walking green flag, gentle, respectful, and patient… Sometimes too patient. 

He insisted on taking things slow, and it took him almost two months of courting before he agreed to officially call himself your boyfriend, because, according to him, he hadn’t earned it yet. 

You didn’t want to be ungrateful but there were times when his chivalry frustrated you. Yes, he treated you like a queen, took care of you, and listened to you but sometimes you wished he actually kissed you instead of quickly pecking your lips and pulling away. 

You enjoyed his company as it was, but you couldn’t deny the burning desire that consumed you whenever he was near you. 

“Taeyong,” you called his name after you finished cleaning up the table. 

“Yeah?” he replied absentmindedly while washing the dishes.

“Can we make out?” you asked straight to the point.

He almost dropped the plate he was holding. His whole body tensed and he continued staring at the running water. He didn’t ask you to repeat yourself. He had heard you perfectly.

“Is that a no?” you asked, taking a few steps closer.

Taeyong closed the water tap and turned around to face you, leaning against the sink.

“Of course, we can, my love,” he said, offering you a smile that somehow seemed a little forced. 

Before he had the chance to take it back you pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back softly, but as usual, he pulled away quickly. 

“That’s not making out,” you pouted.

“Let’s take things slow,Y/N,” Taeyong said, ready to resume his domestic task, but you were tired and frustrated, so you grabbed him by the nape and kissed him hard. 

He gasped in surprise but he had been controlling himself for too long, and his wolf was not going to waste this chance. He gave you an open-mouthed kiss that felt too urgent for someone who wanted to take things slow, and when you sucked on his tongue he moaned loudly, finally daring to use his hands on you. 

His still-wet fingers tangled in your hair and angled your head for his lips to fit yours perfectly, allowing his tongue to play with yours quite aggressively. 

A shiver ran down your spine when he switched positions to have you pressed against the sink, and you let your hands travel down his torso.

That’s when he detached himself from you abruptly. 

“Was that better?” he asked as evenly as he could with his chest rising and falling erratically.

“Yeah…” you breathed out.

He nodded.“Go rest, love.I’ll finish cleaning.”

For him, that had been the closest he had been to losing his sanity. He had to lock himself up as soon as he got back home due to another unscheduled rut–which was happening more frequently the closer he got to you– and he couldn’t stop thinking about how good you tasted and how easily he could manhandle your fragile body. 

He  had opened Pandora’s box. Now he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you every chance he got. 

‘Just a kiss,’ he kept telling himself. ‘I will stop before it gets serious.’

But God, was it hard when he had you all pretty on his lap, with your breasts pressed against his pecs and driving him crazy.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips. 

“Hm?” you murmured, kissing his jaw and neck slowly.

He tilted his head back and rested it on the sofa when your lips brushed a spot where you could feel his strong pulse. 

“Oh… Y-Y/N,” It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite remember what. Especially when you rolled your hips against his like that. So he just whined. 

“What is it, baby?” you asked, dropping more of your weight on his lap. 

His breath hitched and his eyes snapped open in your direction, a reddish tone replacing his usual eye color. His fingers dug into your hips as he pressed you against him harder, humming when he heard you moan faintly.

His lips chased yours and he wasted no time in sliding his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you fiercely and let out breathy moans while guiding your hips against his crotch insistently.

“Tae–...b-baby that feels…” you manage to breathe out as your hips shake in his hands.

“G-good?” he asked in the softest voice despite his lusty eyes and his hips thrusting against your core harshly. 

“So good, baby,” you gasped. “Can you g-give me more?”

“Anything,” he breathed out, eyes dazed, allowing his hands to travel your body. “Everything…”

“Good boy,” you praised him lovingly, reaching for the hem of his pants to free his painful erection.

“Mm…Ah,” he moaned softly as you palmed him over his boxers. When your thumb pressed against the head he let out an audible gasp. 

“Y/N, w-we have to stop,” he panted urgently, but his body said something different; one of his hands kept yours firmly pressed against his cock, while the other slid under your shirt, looking for your breasts. “Gotta…gotta s-stop…”

“Do you w-want to stop?” you asked him, whimpering when his fingers found one of your nipples, while his other hand guided yours up and down his cock.

He shook his head.

“Then why do we…ah! Why do we h-have to stop, b-baby?”

He stared at your lips dumbfounded, still moving your hand up and down, harder, faster. There was a reason why he had to stop. He had to. But why? He just couldn’t remember…

“I don’t know…,” he admitted.

 The hand that was caressing your breasts, slid down your stomach, drawing gentle patterns until it slid past the hem of your shorts. Your hips jumped slightly  and he breathed shakily when his fingers slid into your panties, immediately getting then soaked.

“B-baby…,” you breathed out when he slowly took his digits out and brought them to his mouth. 

He opened wide, sticking his tongue out , and then sucked on his fingers lewdly. 

Suddenly, his head rolled back, his back arched, and his body convulsed. He moaned around his fingers and a big wet patch formed on his boxers, right where he was holding your hand so desperately. 

You gasped at the sight of him cumming just because of your taste. “Oh my god…,” you murmured, pressing the palm of your hand against him harder and feeling his cock squirt another generous amount of cum while he trembled under you.

Once you thought it may be too much for him, you released his member and his body relaxed on the sofa. His mouth finally let go of his fingers, leaving behind a trail of saliva. He was panting and his wide eyes were fixed on the ceiling, trying to comprehend the pleasure he had felt. 

“Taeyong?” you called his name gently.

 It was like the sound of your voice brought him back to reality. Or maybe it drove him further into madness because he hugged your waist and pressed your crotches together urgently.

“Y-you too…” he begged, before kissing you messily, making an uncoordinated attempt to dry hump you.

You kissed him back, slowly moving against his still-hard member, but the pace didn’t quite satisfy him. He grabbed your hips harshly and moved your body insistently back and forth.

“Ah, right t-there,” you encouraged him, letting him set the pace. 

He hissed. The chaff of your clothed clit on his sensitive tip was pleasurably painful and your moans mixed with your aroused scent had him forgetting about all the possible downsides of letting his wolf loose. It felt too good.

“I’m cumming,” you gasped, shaking on his lap. “B-baby— Oooh!”

“Yeah…” he moaned, pulling you into a suffocating hug and giving your neck wet, sloppy kisses. 

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling weak and dizzy, but incredibly happy. You had wanted to feel Taeyong close to you since you had started dating and now it was finally happening. You sighed and looked down at your boyfriend who was still clinging to you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Then you felt liquid dripping down your chest.

“Tae—,” you laughed, thinking it was saliva and whipping it off with your hand but your smile dropped when you saw your fingers tainted red. “What…”

Did he bite you? You hadn’t felt anything at all. You could hear him panting, but you were sure his fangs were not on your skin. 

You quickly pushed him off you, pressing his back on the sofa and taking a look at him. He was pale, covered in sweat, displaying a lost expression and his mouth and chin were stained with fresh blood. 

Your hand flew to your neck, finding more of the red liquid, but the smooth texture of your skin proved you hadn’t been bitten. 

That blood wasn’t yours.

What he had bitten was his own hand.

The same he had earlier used to touch your folds and taste you was now covered in blood, displaying an injury in the shape of a crescent moon.

“Taeyong!” You screamed, forgetting all about the pleasure you had just felt and running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

When you came back and started examining his wound he seemed more conscious.

“How did this happen?!” You asked him, carefully disinfecting the bite.

His beautiful eyes looked at you with sadness but no words came from his lips.

“Why did you do that?” you continued rambling on until you heard a quiet sob. “Taeyong?”

He looked away, but you had already seen the tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, cupping his face on your palms and trying to make eye contact.

He placed his hands on top of yours gently, still weeping bitterly.

“Does it hurt that bad? Should we go to a healer?” You insisted, your worries increasing every second.

He let out a broken sob.

Broken-hearted you tried to hug him but he quickly stood up. “I have to go. I’ll c-call you later, okay?” 

“What? Taeyong, wait–” 

“I’ll ask Jaemin to heal me,” he said, trying to hold back his sniffles. 

“I’ll go with–”

“No, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “You’ll make it worse.”

“...I will make it worse?” you asked in a whisper.

“I–,” he let out a shaky sigh. “No, baby, I don’t mean it like that.”

You didn’t reply. What were you supposed to say after being told your presence would make your boyfriend feel worse?

His face told you he wasn’t happy with the way he had worded it either. He knew he had hurt you and he wanted nothing more but to comfort you, hug you, and kiss you stupid, but he needed to get away from you before his wolf took over.

“You did nothing wrong, my love,” he assured you. His words were gentle, but his body language was so distant. “I just need to be alone, right now, okay?”

You nodded. What else could you do?

And then you were left alone.

“You’re back already–Holy shit, hyung, are you okay?!” Xiaojun jumped out of the couch where he had been hanging out with Hendery when he saw his leader. 

“Fine,” Taeyong mumbled. 

“You’re bleeding!” Hendery yelled. 

“I just need–”

“TEN HYUNG!” Xiaojun screamed.

Ten came down the stairs running and gasped when he saw Taeyong’s hand covered in blood. “What happened to you?!”

“I need you to lock me up,” Taeyong mumbled tiredly.

“You need medical attention,” Ten replied, trying to pull him back to the door to take him to the hospital.

“There’s no time,” Taeyong groaned.

“Time for what?” Ten asked, but then he noticed the way his leader’s eye color kept changing and that the skin he had touched was burning up. “Wha—AGAIN?! You just got out of rut two weeks ago!”

“Lock me up,” the oldest repeated weakly, leaning against his pack member for support.

“Fuck,” Ten hissed, gesturing for the others to help him carry him up the stairs. “There’s no way this is healthy.”

“Hmm…” was the leader’s absentminded response before losing consciousness. 

If you had known what was happening, you would have just gone to sleep instead of waiting for the call that he said would come. He didn’t call you and he wasn’t responding to your texts

After two days you decided to look for answers somewhere else and visited Taeil’s cafe.

He received you with a warm smile, as usual. But you could sense some awkwardness when he asked that many trivial questions (even talking about the weather), as if he wanted to talk about anything but Taeyong.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you finally said.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he still gestured for you to go on. He knew he couldn’t avoid the topic forever.

“Have you seen Taeyong?”

“I have,” he said curtly.

“He’s not answering my calls. I didn’t think he would be the type to ghost someone, but here we are,” you laughed awkwardly.

Taeil let out a heavy sigh.

“He’s not ghosting you.”

“Yes, he is,” you said bitterly. “If he wanted to break up he could have just said so.”

“Y/N, I promise you he wants to be with you,” Taeil insisted.

“Then why is he ignoring me?”

“He’s in rut…”

“…Again?!”

He nodded. “Again.”

“This is happening way too often.”

“I know.”

“What about his suppressants?”

“They don’t work anymore.”

“There has to be something we can do!”

Taeil groaned. “We can’t force him.”

“Force him to what?”

“Just…ask him, okay?”

“When?! He’s always in rut and  disappearing!”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know this must be hard for you, but trust me, it’s hard for him too. He’s trying his best to be a good boyfriend for you.”

Part of you knew he was right. Even if it felt like he was ghosting you, deep down you knew that was not Taeyong. You agreed to wait until his rut was over and he contacted you, but you felt so lonely without a single text from him.

One day you thought you heard a noise outside so you ran out of the house, thinking Taeyong had came back, but there was no one there. The only thing that was new was an empty plate a few meters from you; the plate that Soobin had taken the day you met him. 

“Soobin?” you called nervously.

 You may still be a bit wary of him, but your editor still wanted you to write that book about faes. You had been researching at the local library and asking your boyfriend questions about the mysterious creatures but you knew that talking to one directly would be better.  The sun was still shining so talking to Soobin should be safe, right?

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” the fae’s calm voice replied as he came out from behind the tree where he was hiding. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” you said, trying not to show the fear in your voice.

“Are you, really?”  he asked.

“Of course.”

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Well, I’m a little scared,” you admitted. “But I’m still glad. I wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s interesting,” he purred, walking towards you and stopping right before the protection circle–which now was very visible to the human eye thanks to your boyfriend’s efforts– started. “I love a good conversation. What is it you want to talk about?”

“I’m a writer,” you said, sitting on the other side of the line that drew the circle. “I’m writing about faes and I was hoping to ask you some questions.”

“Ask,” he encouraged you, placing his elbows on his crossed legs and leaning forward, with his face resting on his hands. 

You gulped, deciding to go straight to the point. “Do you hunt humans?”

He smiled in a way that would have been sweet in a different setting but now was giving you chills, and not in a good way. “I do.”

“Why?”

“For different reasons. It depends on the human,” he shrugged.

“Do you…,” you shifted uncomfortably. “Do you eat them?”

He laughed out loud. It was the first time you saw him express himself so openly. “Your kind is not as nutritious as you think you are. Not with all that coffee and fat that you consume.”

You gasped, a bit offended. “Are you calling me fat?!”

He laughed harder. “Are you offended I don’t want to eat you?”

“N-no, but…”

“We did eat humans in the past. But we know better now. Eating you won’t bring me any benefit.”

You sighed in relief. “Then what were you planning to do to me? The day you took me out of the protection circle…”

He tilted his head. “I was not going to eat you…but I wanted a taste.”

“A t-taste?” you repeated.

“Mhm…You carry a very sweet smell. I was wondering if you taste like you smell.” 

You didn’t want to be dirty-minded. He probably didn’t mean it like that.

“Y-you mean in a cannibal type of way or—”

“A sexual way,” he deadpanned. 

“O-oh…” you mumbled awkwardly. “So uh…faes do s-stuff like that with other species?” 

“Not often. I haven’t fucked a human in centuries,” the way he stressed the word fuck made you blush. You knew that faes preferred to speak eloquently, but he had deliberately chosen a word used by humans.

“Isn’t it better to do those things with y-your kind?” you asked.

“You see, faes can gain vitality from emotions we elicit from others.  And, compared to faes, humans are so, so deliciously sensitive, meaning your emotions would be more intense than those I could possibly get from one of my own kind,” he said, eyeing you up. “If I feed on your pleasure I’m sure I’ll become even stronger.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Aren’t there other ways to be stronger?”

“There are,” he conceded. “But don’t you think this way is more fun for both of us?”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline,” you said firmly. “I’m seeing someone.”

He looked at you dumbfounded for a second, expecting an explanation as to why that was relevant and then his eyes widened. “Ooh…are humans still monogamous?” 

“Uh…I am,” you replied.

“How disappointing,” he sighed. “Is it alpha?”

“Yeah…” 

“Hm…Congratulations…”

“Thanks…”

“You don’t sound that excited,” he teased. 

“I’m just a little tired,” you lied. “But thanks for answering my questions today. You were very helpful,” you said, reaching for the empty plate Soobin had left on the grass, when you felt his hand grabbing your wrist firmly.

You froze.

How could he touch you when you were still inside the circle?!

Oh shit.

The plate was outside of the circle.

And now so was your hand.

“Not so fast,” he warned you. “What do I get in return for all that valuable information?”

You had been fooled by the fae once again. How could you be so careless?

“Soobin, please,” you pleaded. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” he asked, tugging your wrist towards him playfully and almost making you lose your balance and exit the circle. 

“Please, there has to be something else I can give you,” you bargained desperately. 

He chuckled and finally let you go, making you fall on your butt. “Y/N, the sun hasn’t set yet. I can’t do anything to you. I was just playing.”

“That wasn’t funny!” you fumed. 

“But I would still like to propose a deal,” he said casually.

“Forget it,” you said, standing up, ready to go back inside the house. 

“Don’t you have an entire book to write about me?” he asked.

You looked at him suspiciously. 

“I can provide all the information you need,” he continued. “For a price.”

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” you snapped at him.

“As delectable as that would be, that’s not the only way you can pay me. During this conversation, I absorbed a variety of emotions coming from you. They may not be as powerful as pleasure, but they satisfy me for now.”

“You were feeding on me the entire time?!” you accused him incredulously.

He shrugged. “Isn’t it convenient? I give you what you want, and you pay me back without even noticing.”

Well, he had a point. He wasn’t even hurting you. All you had to do was your job and he would take what he needs without disturbing you.

“Deal,” you said. “Come back tomorrow at the same time. No funny business.”

He smiled and gave you a short nod before you walked into the house.

“If alpha doesn’t satisfy you, the offer still stands!” you heard him say before you slammed the door shut.

True to his word, Soobin showed up the next day and the day after that. Separated by the protection circle, you had long conversations in which he answered your questions regarding faes while sneakily asking about your life. You often prepared tea and snacks for him, and while he enjoyed some of them, he did not hesitate to let you know when something wasn’t tasty. So far, the snacks he liked the most were whichever you prepared using fresh fruit, so it wasn’t surprising to find a handmade basket full of fresh berries on the spot where he usually sat. He said it was a gift, but you knew it was his way of asking you to bake something for him. 

You were kneading dough when Taeyong showed up at your place, looking exhausted. He kissed your forehead and hugged you softly, apologising a thousand times.

“I’m so sorry for leaving like that,” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going into rut?” you asked him, hugging him back. You weren’t accusing him of anything, but you needed to understand him.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Of course I worry! How many times has it been since we started dating?”

“I got it under control, Y/N. My pack knows how to keep me locked away.”

“Baby, you shouldn’t have to...”

“I have no choice, love.”

“You have me,” you reminded him.

He gulped, pulling away from the hug. “I would never force this on you–”

“You’re not forcing me. I’m offering.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he warned.

“I do!” you said. “Your wolf should calm down after you claim me–”

Taeyong groaned, closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t say stuff like that…”

“Taeyong, I can take it,” you insisted. “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started dating. I want to do this with you–”

“No,” he said harshly.

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous, Y/N.”

“I trust you–”

“I don’t trust myself!” he confessed. “I’m not myself when in rut. An alpha wanting to mate is not someone you can reason with. I wouldn’t stop even if you begged. Don’t you understand?! I’m not human!”

You looked at him with wide eyes. He had always been human to you–an equal. You couldn’t understand his fear, but it was obviously something that tormented him. 

“I don’t wanna argue, Y/N,” he said weakly. “I missed you so much…Can we not talk about this right now?”

You nodded, leading him to the sofa, where you lay down in each other’s arms in silence until he fell asleep. He probably didn’t sleep well the past week; he looked tired and thinner than before. That was the last bit of physical contact you had with your boyfriend; after that, he avoided every touch. It was torture, but he knew if he touched you he would kiss you like he was dying to, and then another rut would probably be triggered, which meant he would have to be away from you again. 

You tried to be understanding, even if it hurt to see him pull away like he was repelled by you. At least his words were still very loving and assuring, but you missed his touch.

Soobin noticed you sulking during one of your scheduled interviews. 

“You’re not even listening,” he said suddenly.

“I’m sorry!” you said quickly, snapping out of it. “I was thinking about something else. 

“That’s annoying,” he sighed. “Humans normally can’t think of anything else when in the presence of a fae.”

“I guess I got used to your presence by now,” you shrugged. 

He glared at you. He was in a bad mood because he couldn’t feed on your emotions unless he was the one causing them. Right now you were sad, but it was because of someone else so he didn’t get to absorb it. He had you right in front of him and he couldn’t get anything from you.

Unless…

“I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t been marked,” he said casually, looking at your neck. “Did alpha find another partner?”

You scoffed. “Our relationship is going well, thank you for asking.”

‘Yes,’ he thought. ‘Anger.’ He would take what he could get.

“It’s strange,” he continued. “Normally werewolves claim their partners as soon as they can.”

“He wants to take things slow,” you defended him.

“Hm… I guess he doesn’t need to mark you to please you,” he conceded.

You bit your lip an that told him all he needed to know.

“Oh? Alpha rejected sex with you?” he asked in a condescendent tone.

“I told you we’re taking it slow…”

“You’re telling me one of the most libidinous creatures–a half animal– refuses to copulate?”

Your face was red because of shame and anger. “Don’t talk about him like he’s just some animal.”

“I’m not looking down on him, Y/N. I genuinely find it unbelievable. I don’t see why he would hurt himself like that.”

That caught your attention, and your anger switched to worry. “Hurt himself?”

Soobin nodded. “If he imprinted on you, denying himself the pleasure of having you should hurt him physically. He shouldn’t be able to control himself.”

“Are you saying I’m not his real mate?” you asked in a small voice.

He seemed to consider it for a moment and then he shook his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m certain he imprinted on you. There has to be another reason why he rejects your body.”

“Like what?” you asked urgently. All your anger was long forgotten. Now you wanted answers.

The fae licked his lips. “I can’t think of a reason not to want to fuck you, Y/N. I’m still hoping you  accidentally step out of the circle at night.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up, Soobin.”

“But…” he said tentatively.

“But?” you repeated.

“If it hurts him not to have sex, and he still chooses not to, it could be that maybe…”

“Maybe what?!”

“...He’s not attracted to you.”

Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t even considered that possibility. You knew werewolves imprinted for life and that they would be loyal to their partner no matter what, but now that you thought about it, they couldn’t choose who they imprinted on. What if you were not his type but he was stuck with you? What if he was trying his best to be a good mate, but he genuinely did not want to sleep with you?

“...You think he’s not attracted to me?” you repeated.

“No. I’m saying that could be a possible reason for someone not to want to lie with their partner.”

You nodded. It was only a possibility. It wasn’t necessarily true, right?

But the more you thought about it the more it made sense. What if the reason he pulled away every time wasn’t to protect you, but because you disgusted him?

Seeing you like that, Soobin felt guilty. He wanted to make you feel something and feed on it, yes, but maybe he had taken it a bit too far. ”I’m sorry, please forget what I said”

“Okay,” you said absentmindedly, picking on the blueberries he had brought you today. 

He grabbed your hand, which once again had incautiously crossed the shield around the house. This time you were too sad to be scared.

“You’re attractive, Y/N.”.

“Thanks…,” your emotionless voice replied.

“I mean it.”

“Right,” you said, not believing him and attempting to stand up.

“Wait!,” was the last thing he said before he hastily pulled your hand and took your entire body out of the protection circle. 

You landed on top of him, spilling the berries all over the grass, and just when you were about to demand an explanation you heard a hoarse familiar voice.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Taeyong commanded. His tone was scarily calm. 

You quickly stood up and so did Soobin.

“Taeyong–” 

“Get back into the circle, Y/N,” he demanded, making his way towards Soobin.

“We were just talking,” you insist but your boyfriend had already grabbed the fae by his necklaces and pulled him closer threateningly. 

“Didn’t seem like it,” he growled, staring down at Soobin’s calm expression. He had arrived right in time to see the fae pull you towards him and his blood was boiling.

“Let him go!” you pleaded, trying to separate them. 

“Get the fuck back inside the circle!” he yelled at you. “Don’t you see how dark it is already?!”

You finally noticed that it was indeed late. You had been talking for so long that you didn’t pay attention to the sunset and the fact that it was the time for faes to hunt.

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you insisted.

“You don’t know that,” Taeyong disagreed.

“Soobin, tell him!” you begged the fae, who had been quiet the entire time.

“I do not intend to cause her pain,” Soobin finally said, causing Taeyong’s hold to loosen up a bit as he knew faes did not tell lies. “But my intentions are not pure either.”

You opened and closed your mouth dumbly. Did he have a death wish?! Why would he admit that?

“...What do you mean?” Taeyong hissed.

Soobin’s lips twisted into a lazy smile. “You know exactly what I mean, alpha.”

The werewolf lost it, and slammed the fae against a tree. Soobin didn’t even try to defend himself, nor did he show any sign of pain. He just stared at the furious man back.

“NO! STOP!” you yelled. 

“I don’t want you anywhere near her again,” Taeyong grunted. “Do you understand?”

“But she has a book to write,” Soobin replied arrogantly. 

“TAEYONG!” you screamed, hugging your boyfriend from behind before he had the chance to throw a punch. “Baby, please, let him go. Please.”

Taeyong glared at the Soobin furiously. He was nowhere near done, but he could feel your arms shaking around him. He would not be the cause for your distress. Hesitantly, he let go of Soobin. “Get lost.”

Soobin wasn’t done either, but because of how scared you were, he decided to stop for now. Without another word he walked away. 

For a minute, you and Taeyong stood where they were in silence until he sighed and grabbed your arm, walking back into the safety of the protection spell. You were about to enter tne house when he stopped.

“It’s not the first time, is it?” he asked seriously. “I could smell him on you before, but I thought I was imagining things.”

“He comes here often,” you admitted, feeling Taeyong’s grip on your arm tighten. “But we are always separated by the spell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you?”

“He’s not bothering me,” you mumbled. 

Taeyong looked confused…and nervous. “So you were willingly spending time with the fae prince?”

You shrugged awkwardly. “He’s been helping me with my book.”

“Faes don’t do anything for free,” he said apprehensively. “You know that, right?”

“I do…”

“...Whad did he want in return?” 

Now he was alarmed. What had Soobin done to you?!

“He’s been feeding on my emotions,” you admitted. It sounded more intimate and shameful now that you had said it out loud.

“...What?! Y/N why–...what were you thinking?!”

“Taeyong, he didn’t hurt me. Other thatn that, all he did was talk to me and bring me fruit,” you groaned, tiredly.

He stared at you in disbelief. “…All those baskets of fruit in the kitchen are his doing?!”

“What, you think it’s poisoned or something?” You asked sarcastically.

“Fruit has a sexual innuendo for faes,” Taeyong deadpanned. “They exchange them and eat them together during the courting stage.”

Your jaw dropped and your confidence left your body. 

“He left out that detail, huh?” Your boyfriend asked rhetorically.

“I…I told him I wasn’t interested,” you said.

“Yet you accepted his courting gifts and let him absorb your emotional energy.”

“Are you jealous?” You scoffed for a lack of a better comeback.

“Yes! Jealous and furious at your naivety!”

“I know what I’m doing, okay?” you said defensively.

“No, you have no idea what you’ve been doing ever since you came to this town!” he exclaimed. “You came to live into the forest having no magical abilities, without even knowing about protection spells, let a fae court you without telling me, and even let him feed on you like it’s no big deal?!”

“Would you have preferred I fucked him as payment?!” you blurted out. 

Taeyong’s eyes widened.

Oh no.

“That’s what he originally asked from you, huh?” Taeyong scoffed. 

“It’s fine, I rejected him–”

“It’s not fine, Y/N, what the fuck?! He could have taken you regardless!”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know him!” he roared. “You don’t know how men think! I could smell his desire for you, Y/N, goddammit!”

“Good to know someone desires me…,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes and trying to walk past him and into the house, but he pulled you back towards him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

“At least he’s not disgusted by me.” 

“What are you even talking about?!” he growled, starting to lose his patience.

“Oh, please! It’s obvious! You’re not attracted to me, Taeyong!”

Taeyong shook his head and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?!”

“You hate it when I touch you. You pull away when I kiss you. Honestly, Taeyong, why are we even together?”

“You can’t be serious right now,” he chuckled bitterly. “All this because I haven’t dicked you down?”

“Fuck you,” you said, ready to end the discussion and get into the damn house but once again he yanked you back, this time kissing you forcefully.

You wished you had the will to push him away, or at least to remember you were mad at him, but his lips felt so warm and soft against yours and it had been so long you couldn’t even try to resist him. You let him take the lead, moaning at the way he basically fucked your mouth with his tongue while his hands travelled up and down your body. 

You gasped when he pulled up your shirt swiftly and the cold breeze caressed your stomach. It reminded you you still hadn’t gone into the house.

“B-baby, shouldn’t we go inside?” you asked.

“Why?” he asked nonchalantly before pulling the shirt even higher, along with your bra. “Like you weren’t about to let the fae prince take you against a tree,” he said sharply and attached his mouth to one of your nipples.

You moaned and threw your head back. “I-I wasn’t going to–”

“I would have killed him,” he said between wet kisses placed on your chest, licking up to your neck. “I would have started a damn war and put the entire town in danger. But you don’t care about that, do you? You just wanted sex.”

“W-with you only–Ah!” you gasped when one of his hands slid inside your pants, cupping your center and patting it roughly.

“I’ll give it to you. Again and again,” he promised, nibbling on your ear. “But don’t say later I didn’t warn you.”

All of a sudden he turned you around so you were facing the forest and he was standing behind you. He held you in place by circling your waist with one hand while the other found its way into your underwear making you squirm nervously. 

“Oh! B-baby, wait–” you wanted to convince him that it was scandalous for him to finger you in such a compromising position where the whole forest could see. “The faes–Oooh!”

“I know, my love. I see them,” Taeyong chuckled by your ear, easing a finger into your entrance. 

“F-fuck!” you moaned. Unlinke Taeyong’s your human eyes could only see some trees in the dark of the night, but it was hunting hour, so you had no doubt someone was out there. Soobin probably hadn’t gone too far. He could be watching this lewd spectacle right now. “It’s so embarrassing…Nngh!”

“Oh, Y/N, don’t be embarrassed,” he panted between messy licks on your neck. He slid a second finger inside of you and curled them in just the right angle to have your vision go blurry and your toes curl. “Soobin wanted to see you cum, so we’re going to show him, yeah?”

You shook your head, but you could feel yourself getting close to your climax. “Taey-aah…Baby I’m s-so sorry, p-please–Ah!”

“If you’re sorry you’re going to cum in my fingers for the entire forest to see,” he dared you, pumping into you faster and pressing his palm against your clit. 

“Taeyong!” you moaned, tilting your head back and resting it on his shoulder as he fingered you furiously with one hand and bounced your tits with the other.

“Come on, come on, Y/N, cum, cum, fucking cum!” he demanded darkly before sinking his fangs into your skin and pressing your G-spot harder. 

For a second you couldn’t breathe. Your body felt light and tingly and the only thing you could focus on was your boyfriend’s raspy voice as he complimented you.

“That’s my mate,” Taeyong cooed, licking the fresh mark on your neck and finally  taking his hand out of your underwear. “From now on only I can make you cum, mmkay?”

You nodded dumbly and allowed your legs to give out, landing on your knees on the grass. That had been so intense you were still coming to terms with the fact that you had had an orgasm in public and, potentially been seen by Soobin. 

More importantly, you had been marked as Taeyong’s, meaning he did want you after all.

Before you had time to celebrate you felt a sharp pain on the back of your head as Taeyong pulled your hair to make you look up. 

The first thing you saw was his massive hard cock as he jerked it slowly, and if you looked a bit higher you could see his red eyes staring back into yours. 

“Suck,” he commanded, pressing the head of his cock against your mouth. 

You didn’t hesitate. You were salivating the moment you saw it and you wanted nothing more but to have it in your mouth, completely forgetting all decorum and the fact that you were still pretty much out in the open. You parted your lips and licked the precum leaking from his tip, making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.

“I said suck, not lick,” he grunted, pushing the tip past your lips and shuddering at the warmth. “Mmm…yes.”

You sucked on the tip enthusiastically, hollowing your cheeks occasionally to hear him curse, and then taking him deeper…or at least trying to, because even though you had heard about an alpha’s size, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.

He was barely half way in when you gagged around the tip and a loud moan escaped him. “Ooooh…Oh, Y/N, fuck…”

You tried to get used to the feeling, but he wasn’t feeling patient today so he used his grip on your hair to angle your head in a position to fuck into your mouth comfortably, making you gag again.

“Come on, love, relax your throat,” he instructed, thrusting faster and trying to go deeper, but his size was too much for you. “What was The Moon thinking? Giving an alpha such a delicate human to breed? How will you t-take my knot?” he asked teasingly, but his words caused damage to himself, making his cock twitch at the thought of fucking you somewhere thighter and more wet than your mouth.

You moaned around him, struggling to breath as he kept assaulting your mouth. Luckily he took his member out, allowing you to gasp, desperate for air. 

“Almost there, love,” he grunted, using his cock to slap your cheek. “Open up,” he urged, now slapping your tongue, before he placed both his hands on the back of your head and thrusted into your mouth with full force on more time, rolling his eyes back at the pleasurable feeling of you moaning and gagging around him while his cum filled your throath. “F-fuuuck…,” he breathed out, moving your head harshly from side to side for a little extra stimulation like you were nothing but a toy.

When you thought you would pass out he released you, making you cough loudly and take desperate breaths. 

Once you calmed down, Taeyong kneeled down in front of you and kissed your forehead, which was a crazy contrast to his previous behavior, before he took you in his arms and lifted you up.

“Show’s over,” he said, looking into the dark forest. You still couldn’t see anything, but it was obvious who Taeyong was talking to. “She’s taken,” he added before (finally) carrying you inside.

It finally hit you that he wasn’t finished when you found yourself landing on your bed on your back, with your legs hanging off the side. Taeyong climbed on top of you and looked at you as he caressed your hair. His gentle touch showed you that your sweet boyfriend was still there, even if he wasn’t the one in control of his actions.

He leaned in and licked a string of cum from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, before kissing you. “Don’t say I’m not attracted to you,” he said. He didn’t sound angry anymore, but his tone was serious. “Ever.”

“I’m sorry,” you croaked and coughed a little, your throat still sore.

He nodded, now looking at the trail his fingers were drawing, from the mark on your neck to your still uncovered breasts, and going down your stomach. He then got off the bed and in the blink of an eye he ripped off your pants and panties.

“Tae–” you called his name questioningly, sitting up, but he gently pushed you back on the mattress and kneeled in front of you. 

He kissed your inner tigh slowly, nibbling on it occasionally as he got closer to your center.

“Oh god,” you whispered when blew on your clit before looking into your eyes, sticking his tongue out and immediately flattening it against you. “Ooh! B-baby…ah…”

He moved his head in small circles, slowly, moaning at your taste. Then he licked his way down to your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds and thrust his tongue inside.

Your back arched and you screamed at the intrusion, and he loved to hear you losing your cool like that, so he pressed his head harder against you, licking and drinking as much of you as he could while his nose teased your clit just enough to drive you insane. Your hands landed on his head, pushing him harder against you and he moaned appreciatively and sliding a digit in along with his tongue.

“Taeyong oh–...Oh my g-god,” you gasped, feeling yourself getting close for the second time.

He knew exactly what to do. He attached his mouth to your clit and sucked on it slowly, but thrusted another finger into you at a faster pace. The contrast was delightful and your body tensed, finally releasing as his tongue circled your clit languidly.

Satisfied, he parted from you, taking his fingers into his mouth to suck on them wantonly. “Mm…Y/N, that was heavenly,” he purred.

You were still registering his words and the tingling feeling in your body when you felt something hot and hard rubbing your pussy. It was finally happening; Taeyong had taken off his pants and underwear and was standing between your legs guiding his cock into you. His size was intimidating, but more than scared, you were eager.

“B-baby,” you gasped at the intrusion.

“Mm?” he hummed, focused on the way your walls squeezed him.

“Take me,” you pleaded and winced when he thrusted more of him inside.

“Y-yeah…” he agreed pushing a bit harder and groaning when he couldn’t get any deeper. “Fuck, Y/N, so tight…” 

He held your ankles against his shoulders, pulled out until only the tip remained inside and then rammed back into you, letting out a shaky breath. “This is…oooh…this is all y-your tiny cunt can t-take…f-fuck,” he grunted building up a steady pace even if he coldn’t fit completely inside.

“Ah–ah, ooh…,” you whimpered, gripping the sheets for support. The pain was being replaced by a pleasant tickle in your lower abdomen, and his breathy moans only made everything a thousand times more erotic.

“N-need to–....,” he licked his lips and pushed your legs towards your body, folding you. “Go deeper…”

“Can’t b-baby, sorry–OOH!!” You moaned in surprise when he climbed on the bed, one foot planted on each side of your body, and he pressed your legs all the way to your chest, and pounded into you using his whole weight. He indeed went deeper than before.

“We c-can,” he mumbled like he was entranced. “We ca–aaah!” he insisted, bouncing on top of you to fuck into you deeper with each thrust. “S-see, my l-love? Your pussy is w-welcoming me, squeezing me s-so good…” he added deliriously.��

Your eyes rolled back when he doubled up the pace. His balls slapped against your ass and he grunted each time he felt himself get a centimeter deeper inside of you. One of your hands travelled down your body to pinch your clit and you tightened around him, making him cum with a throaty groan.

He closed his eyes and filled your cunt with his load with relish. The first of many times to come.

“Haa…Y/N…my mate…,” he breathed out, slowly opening his eyes to look at you with adoration. 

He pulled out slowly, and got off the bed to once again stand between your legs, which he held open to admire the view of his cum spilling out of you.

“Taeyong…” you croaked tiredly. “B-baby, my legs hurt.”

He kissed your calf and put your legs down, but just when you thought you could catch a breath he manhandled you so were on your belly. 

“B-baby?” you asked hesitantly, trying to turn around, but a strong hand on your nape held you in place. 

“Present properly,” he growled with his thick voice.

Instinctively you knew what he meant. You placed your knees on the mattress and arched your back, lifting your lower body while keeping your chest down. 

Taeyong hummed with approval, letting go of your nape to caress your back and then knead your ass cheeks. His hands then travelled down your tighs and pushed them open, allowing his dick to tease your folds and making you clench around nothing. 

“Should have done this since the beginning,” Taeyong murmured, sliding into you slowly. “You wouldn’t have–aah….,” he gasped and his hips faltered when you pushed back to meet him midway. “Shit… you wouldn’t h-have entertained another man’s advances if I had…haa… kept you—Mmh…full…”

“You were t-too busy avoiding me–” you had the audacity to say but were quickly interrupted when he plunged into you hard enough to leave you breathless.

“You have a lot of nerve for someone who c-can’t even…haaa… take me all the way in,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “My bad,” he sneered. “I treated you like a queen when you wanted to be fucked like a whore.”

“You’re so petty when you’re jea– Fuck!” you whined when he positioned one feet on the bed and curled his body over yours, quickening his thrusts.

“You still don’t know your place, hmm?” he muttered darkly as one of his hands drifted towards your folds. “I was too lenient with you. But that stops today,” he grunted rubbing your clit roughly. 

Your brows furrowed with pleasure and you shrieked when your orgasm hit you. Your body tensed and then fell limp on the bed, making him slide out of you, much to his disapproval. 

“We’re nowhere near done, omega,” he purred.

Your eyes snapped open. What?

“W-what did you call me?” you asked, turning around and crawling back cautioslly. 

He followed you, climbing onto the bed and landing on top of you, giving you a passionate kiss. “My omega,” he mumbled in between kisses.

“B-baby I’m,” you sighed when his kisses travelled down your jaw. “I’m not an omega…” you reminded him, caressing his hair gently.

He looked at your face, then at the mark on your neck and then back at your face. Then he laughed softly and shook his head, cupping your face. “You’re confused,” he cooed.

You were astonished. 

He was gone gone.

Is this what he meant when he said he wasn’t himself when in rut?

“Taeyong,” you called his name while he tried to take off your wrinkled shirt and bra. “What’s my name?”

He threw your clothes somewhere on the floor and went for another kiss. “Y/N,” he sighed against your lips. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, my mate, my omega…”

Okay, at least he knew who he was fucking. He was only mistaken about one detail.

““I’m human,baby,” you tried to reason. “Humans can’t be omegas.”

He took his shirt off, and positioned himself between your legs. “Nonsense. Only an omega has hips like these,” he reasoned, looking at your body, enchanted. “Perfect for breeding,” he muttered before sinking into you in one go.

“Oooh! Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whined, arching your back.

“And these tits,” he uttered, leaning down to burry his face between them, kissing, licking, biting. “Perfect to feed our pups.”

You let out soft moans and gave up on trying to reason with him. He was in rut and to be honest, it was turning you even more how pussy drunk he was.

“All you have to do is let me in,” he growled, pushing his hips onto yours harder, still trying to fit it all inside.

“G-god, shit–Aaaah!” you squirmed in his arms.

He sit up and held your hips in a strong grip to start fucking you with intent. He was sweating and grunting, tensing his muscles every time he pushed into you, trying to reach deeper. “Accept me, omega,” he moaned. “Be good.”

“I’m t-trying, baby I– fuck, I d-don’t think it’s possi–Aaaah!!” you screamed when thrusted hard, finally burying his cock into you completely. Your legs shook and you threw your head back, completely caught off guard by an intense orgasm. “T-taeyong—Tae, fuck!”

Taeyong’s jaw had dropped. He himself was shocked at how deliciously good it felt to be one with you. He laughed breathlessly and gave you an open-mouthed kiss, which you barely responded to, as you still hadn’t completely came down from your high.

“See? Y-youre my perfect little omega,” he breathed out, pulling out and fucking back into you, satisfied with the depth of his thrusts. “F-fuh…fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing,” you heard him say when you got back to your senses.

You couldn’t believe this was your sweet, shy boyfriend. His moans were loud and shameless, his words were highly indecorous, his movements were precise but harsh, his body was covered in tattoos you didn’t even know he had, his teeth were displayed in a content smile that seemed sinful with the sounds that came out from his mouth, and his pupils were so dilated you couldn’t even see the red in his eyes.

 Then you looked down and saw a slight bump forming in your tummy along with his thrusts. 

“Oh g-god…Baby y-you’re in my stomach…” you sobbed, making him groan appreciatively.

“Ooohh fuck, yeah,” he hissed, using one of his hands to press down on your lower abdomen and making you whine. “Yes, love, yes, yes,” he murmured.

“S-so big,” you whimpered

“All y-yours, my love,” he cooed, pressing his pelvic bone against your core and rotating his hips.

You  tossed and turned desperately, the stimulation becoming too much for your spent body, and then everything turned black. You coun’t see anything, your ears were ringing and your heart rate slowed. You felt weightless and then came nothing. 

You don’t know how long you were gone, but when you woke up Taeyong looked absolutely deranged, fucking into you fast enough to have the bed shaking and panting like a dog in heat. When you made eye contact he shivered, cumming inside of you with a guttural moan, but he didn’t stop. He winced and kept going like his life depended on it.

He had warned you.

He told you he wouldn’t be able to stop.

You knew there was only one way to calm him down. 

“Oh, baby,” you called for him. “My baby needs t-to knot me?”

He nodded quickly panting, looking at your belly, dazed. “Pups,” was the only coherent word he could say and even that was probably hard to pronounce in such a lust-induced state.

“W-wanna give me your pups?” you taunted, pulling him impossibly closer by circling his waist with your legs. “Make me a mommy?”

He groaned animalistically, snapping his hips hard.

You heard a loud crack. 

And then, before you could comprehend what had happened, the room moved slightly and you felt yourself fall along with Taeyong, and the mattress.

 One of the bed legs bent–or broke, you had no idea–and now you were lying on a slightly bent mattress on the floor with your boyfriend still humping you.

“B-baby—we broke the–Oh!” you tried to speak, but Taeyong couldn’t care less. He was so close and it felt so good he went even harder and faster.

“Haa…,” he panted, furrowing his brows. “Aah–ah haa my–...my omega.”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, not trying to correct him anymore. “I’m yours, baby–ah! Ah! Oh–AH!”

His eyes rolled back until only the white part was visible, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as a lewd expression of pure bliss when his knot finally started forming.

“Yeess, baby, g-give it to…aaah! Give it to m-me, come on,” you urged him, using one of your hands to rub your clit.

 Heavy pants were the only thing coming from his mouth. He forced his knot into your entrance and let out a high-pitched moan, cumming so hard he felt dizzy. 

You tossed your head back, stroking your clit faster until you came one more time. This orgasm was not as intense as the others, but Taeyong’s constant spurts of cum inside of you made it feel just as satisfying. 

“Pups,” he repeated, sighing shakily and caressing your stomach and whimpering when his cock twitched and released another string of cum. “T-take my pups…,” he said, finally collapsing on top of you.

“Holy shit, Taeyong,” you breathed out, weakly lifting one of your hands to play with his hair. “You weren’t joking about this whole rut thing.”

He hummed,  looking for your neck to lick his mark possessively.

“But I told you I could handle it–” you continued speaking before he silenced you with a kiss.

“You have no choice now, Y/N,” he said when he pulled away, finally sounding lucid. “You’ll have to endure it until the end.”

You scoffed. “I just did.”

He raised his brows. “You think it’s over?”

“Well, it looks like you’re back to normal now, so…yeah?” 

He stared at you in silence and then sighed.

“Y/N…my ruts last a week,” he said slowly. 

“A week?!” you repeated in disbelief.

“Mhm,” he confirmed. “I gain some clarity back after cumming a few times, but that will probably last about 20 minutes before I’m fucking you again.”

Your eyes widened at the discovery of this information and he tried his best not to laugh.

“But like you said, you can take it, right?”