#i need to lose weight !!! and its like. no. you need to stop drinking so much then youll be healthy. your weight has nothing to do with

[luvnoirs]

WICKED GAMES

paring: paige x black fem!reader synopsis: after being drafted number one pick, paige is under pressure to prove herself and save a failing relationship. then, she sees you. warning(s): cheating (sorta kinda), angst, fingering, edging word count: 5.1k

a/n: i absolutely hate ts im only posting cause i promised my oomfs that i would post this tonight 😭 it’s supposed to be inspired by wicked games by the weeknd but i feel like i started losing the plot… also lets pretend that paige isn’t a lightweight cause i know her ass would be gone off the shots she took in this LMAOOO

PART ONE | PART TWO

paige wasn't quite sure how she ended up downtown in dallas. one second she was staring up at the ceiling in her silent apartment, the next she was behind the wheel driving down the highway. the city lights illuminated the road, blurring past almost as if she was running from something. but maybe she was.

she should've been in the gym, putting up shots until her arms gave out, trying to excuse the mess of a game she had last night. or maybe she should've been at home, working through the silence with her girlfriend— if you could even still call her that. it used to be sweet late-night texts and dinner dates. now it was just unanswered texts and empty kisses.

paige wasn't oblivious. she knew she hasn't been the easiest to love during her transition from college basketball to the league. but being a rookie meant pressure she couldn't explain and expectations that she was dying to reach. she was either too focused or not focused enough. too distant or too clingy.

a text lit up on her car screen as she rolled to a slow stop at the red light.

lys: yooo. you still pulling up?

paige let out a quiet breath, one hand on the wheel, the other raking through her hair. she didn’t even know why she said yes to nalyssa inviting her out tonight. maybe because it was easier than explaining why she didn’t feel like being around anyone.

she turned down a narrow side street and spotted the club her teammate had mentioned. its neon sign was buzzing, half the letters flickering on and off like they couldn’t commit either.

p: yeah im bout to park

she hit send without thinking, backing into one of the last open spots in the lot. the engine cut off and everything got quiet. too quiet.

she sat there for a second, staring out the windshield, watching a group of girls laugh their way out of an uber, heels clicking against the concrete. smiling like they didn't have the weight of a record-breaking season or a deteriorating relationship on their shoulders.

then paige opened the door and stepped out.

she kept her head down and eyes on the cracked pavement. she kept it moving until she reached the bouncer who stood outside the door.

the bouncer nodded his head, signaling for her to go ahead inside. it wasn't too crowded inside, so she was able to spot nalyssa near the back, already with a drink in her hand.

“took you long enough,” nalyssa called over the music, reaching for her hand.

paige shrugged, letting herself be pulled in. she wasn’t here to catch up or make friends.

she needed a drink.

and if she was being honest with herself— she probably needed to get laid.

but she shoved the thought down as she trailed behind nalyssa, weaving through bodies until they reached the section tucked near the back. vip, of course, but not too flashy. just enough to feel separate from the ongoing chaos.

everyone in the section was already settled in laughing, posted up with half-empty glasses, even a joint being passed between a few people. as nalyssa introduced her to the table, paige offered a lazy nod and a half-assed smile but didn’t stop moving until she dropped into the open seat beside the low table.

nalysssa settled next to dijonai, getting back into a previous conversation, but paige tuned them out.

instead, she reached for the closest shot without even knowing what was in it and drank it.

tequila.

she welcomed the burn in her chest.

a second shot followed, much smoother this time. the edges around her thoughts began to blur by the time she took a third one. one of nalyssa's friends, who she had fallen into an easy conversation with since she arrived nudged her hand in her face, offering the half-finished blunt. paige declined with a shake of her head.

"you good?" nalyssa cuts in as dijonai orders more drinks for the table. "over there looking all mean n'shit."

paige cracked a smile, the liquor finally starting to settle in her system. her shoulders were eased and her jaw was unclenched for the first time tonight. she wasn't drunk, just tipsy enough to relax. "i'm chillin'."

nalyssa gave her a look, half amused, half knowing. "didn't you say things were fucked up with you and your girl? i was wondering why you ain't bring her."

she leaned back, her eyes scanning the room instead as she responded passively.

"yeah, i'm not dealing with her bullshit tonight."

and truth was, part of paige did want to work it out with cassidy.

deep, deep down, the part that still lived off of the memories of them cuddled up on the bed watching the white lotus and the late-night sex still kept her hoping for a change.

but the other part? it was tired. tired of the bending and explanations. tired of feeling like she had to choose between being great and being enough for someone else.

cassidy never understood. she said she did, but her actions spoke otherwise. every time paige missed a call, came home late, or chose the gym over a dinner date, it became another argument.

you've changed.

you never make time for me anymore.

but maybe cassidy was the one who changed. she loved the idea of paige but not the reality of what it took to be her.

paige blinked, suddenly aware of the drink in her hand again. nalyssa was rambling on about the tough patch she and dijonai went through, trying to offer some advice. paige nodded here and there, more so focused on her own surroundings than her friend's words.

someone was dancing on the table across the room. another girl was crying in the corner, visibly arguing with a man who was too drunk to care. and as nalyssa made another comment, paige couldn't help but completely drown it out as she laid eyes on another woman who was walking past the table.

paige couldn't see her face. she didn't need to.

she walked with confidence and a sight sway to her hips, immediately captivating the blonde.

she wore a black lace dress that left little to the imagination. it was thin and sheer, clinging to her body like it was made for it. underneath, paige could see the outline of her black thong through the see-through floral lace, every detail intentional.

she walked to the section beside them with her back still facing paige as excitedly hugging a few people who were already seated as if she hadn't seen them in years. her dress fit around her curves deliciously and paige caught herself staring a bit too long at the woman's ass as she bent over.

nalyssa couldn't help but notice the lack of attention from paige at this point and she caught on immediately, following paige's gaze until her own eyes landed on the woman.

nalyssa leaned in, nudging paige's arm. "damn, paige. you all in her shit."

paige rolled her eyes as she reached for her glass again, trying to shake it off.

"shut up." paige took a sip of her drink, swallowing it down hard.

paige always considered herself a loyal person, especially when it came to romantic relationships. she didn’t entertain attention she didn’t plan to return.

but then again…

were she and cassidy even in a relationship anymore?

the last time they spoke face to face, it ended in a slammed door and another argument that started over nothing. cassidy stormed off after mentioning staying with her friends for a while. and that was five days ago. neither of them had called. neither of them had tried.

so what did that say?

but all that blurred the second she laid eyes on her, the woman now sitting just a few feet away like temptation itself dressed in all black lace.

her head tilted back mid-laugh, hand resting effortlessly at her waist, the other flicking a cascade of curls over her shoulder. even from the side, she looked unreal.

that small gesture exposed the curve of her neck, a sharp jawline, and a tattoo that started at the base of her neck and disappeared beneath thin black straps. she could make out some writing and a few flowers with leaves, and lines trailing down into the fabric.

she shifted in her seat, jaw tightening, trying not to stare, but failing miserably. she was definitely the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.

“listen, man,” nalyssa said, setting her drink down and turning to face paige fully. “i’m not tryna be the villain here, but let’s stop pretending. from everything you’ve been tellin’ me these past few weeks… you and cassidy ain’t had nothing going on for a minute.”

paige didn’t say anything. just stared down at the melting ice in her glass.

nalyssa kept going, softer now. “this is exactly why i dragged your stubborn ass out tonight. you need to stop holding on to something that’s not holding you back. cassidy doesn’t get it, and to be honest? i’m not even sure she’s trying to.”

paige sighed through her nose, the weight of it all pressing against her ribs. part of her wanted to argue and defend the pieces of the relationship that still felt familiar. but the words never came.

because nalyssa was right and that realization sat heavy in her chest.

“i just…” paige started. “i don’t know how to let go without feeling guilty.”

“nah,” nalyssa said quickly. “you're staying in something that ain’t feeding you and you need to let that shit go. don't feel guilty for choosing yourself for once."

paige leaned back, her hand rubbing over her face as she took in nalyssa's words, internalizing them.

she peeked over again, searching for the now familiar head of curls. she was still there. talking with another woman who held a phone to her face.

then, finally, the woman glanced over. almost as if something in the air had shifted, like she felt the weight of paige watching her.

her eyes landed on paige instantly and she felt it in her chest. her face was stunning in a way paige couldn't even describe.

her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, framed by baby doll lashes that fluttered softly.

her curls spilled down the sides of her face perfectly like they knew exactly where to fall. it framed her like a portrait in a gallery. like something you weren’t supposed to touch, only admire. the lights hit her just right, casting a warm glow over her skin. rich. soft. paige wondered what that skin would feel like under her fingertips.

paige didn't want to look away, but the woman had broke eye contact first.

she watched as the woman leaned over, saying a few words to the person next to her before she stood up, making her way toward the bar.

paige dragged her fingers across the rim of her glass, still watching.

then she stood up, slowly.

nalyssa raised an eyebrow. “oh shit.”

“i’m just saying hi,” paige said, but the smirk pulling at her lips betrayed her.

nalyssa leaned back with a knowing grin. “uh huh. you better hi the hell outta her.”

paige didn’t look back as she stepped out of their section.

—

“yo,” zoe leaned in and nudged your arm, eyes glinting with curiosity. “that white girl been starin’ at you all night.”

you raised an eyebrow, unfazed but intrigued. “who?”

zoe gave a slight tilt of her head, chin pointed toward the section next to yours.

you turned, eyes scanning the group who were all laughing and drinking, tucked comfortably into their booth. then her eyes locked onto her.

a blonde woman, legs slightly spread, sipping slowly from a glass like she had nowhere to be. she was talking to the light brown-haired girl next to her, nodding along, but her focus wasn’t all the way there. you could tell.

you eyed the white cropped jacket hugging her frame, the black fitted shirt underneath that exposed her abs. her hair was slicked back into a clean, low bun. the studs in her ears caught the glow from the club lights every time she shifted.

you wouldn't deny the fact that she was attractive, or your exact type. but you didn't come here tonight to get laid, so you turned away and towards zoe with a dismissive shrug.

yet, zoe was still squinting her eyes at her. "she don't look familiar to you?"

you shook her head before taking a sip of your drink. "nah, not really. but it's dallas, everybody know everybody here."

zoe clapped her hands together and pointed to you in sudden realization. "dallas! she plays for the dallas wings. that's paige bueckers."

your expression didn't shift. "who?"

zoe rolled her eyes and reached for her phone, opening up instagram and typing in paige's name in the search. she practically shoved the phone in your face. “girl, what? she plays ball. in the league. she's a rookie but been hyped up since high school. she got mad game, i’ll give her that.”

tapping zoe’s screen, your eyes narrowing slightly at the profile pulled up in front of you. paige had it all: blue check, millions of followers, highlight reels, magazine features, the whole deal.

you blinked, a little caught off guard by the level of attention the girl commanded. you expected maybe a couple hundred thousand followers, not a whole fanbase.

"that woman is fine as fuck," zoe said, pulling her phone back down to her side and locking the screen. "if you don't get you some of that... i will."

you knew zoe was joking, but part of you was curious. curious enough to wonder what exactly it was that pulled a basketball star’s attention your way.

you took another slow sip of your drink, then glanced back toward paige, expecting her to still be deep in conversation with her friend.

but she wasn’t.

no thoughts.

just eyes.

locked directly on you.

you froze for half a second, not visibly, but enough to feel it.

zoe was right— paige was insanely gorgeous. her gaze felt like she wasn't just looking, but studying you.

you tried to play it cool, kept your posture relaxed, head slightly tilted like you weren't phased. but with every second paige kept that gaze locked, you felt something shift.

a slow heat settling low in your stomach, crawling up your spine.

you needed another fucking drink.

you turned away from paige's table, nudging zoe, who was deep in conversation with one of your friends, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“imma hit the bar. you want anything?”

zoe shook her head, barely missing a beat. “nah, i’m good.”

you slid out of your seat and excused yourself to the rest of the group before heading toward the bar. you didn’t bother looking back, but you felt paige looking at you still.

you walked a little slower than usual, with just enough sway in your hips to make it worth watching. if paige wanted a show, you were more than happy to give her one.

once you reached the bar, one of the bartenders gave you a quick nod, mouthing 'give me a sec' as he tended to a row of customers.

fine. you had time.

you slipped onto one of the empty stools, crossing your legs, letting your fingers trail along the edge of the bar. you took a slow breath, just settling into the wait.

then, you felt it.

a presence right next to you. you didn’t even have to look to know who occupied the space.

but you did anyway. and you didn't wait for her to speak first.

"you gon' keep staring at me all night or what?"

you turned your head, chin tilted up due to the height difference. there she stood with her mouth curved into an easy smile and one elbow resting on the edge of the bar. you noticed a chain that hung from her neck in the process.

she looked good. as hell.

but you wouldn't verbally admit that. you weren't going to stroke her ego.

“i’m just tryna figure out how to say hi without gettin’ curved.”

your head titled slightly, eyes skating across paige’s face, still deciding if she was worth the time.

“so this is you being shy?”

“nah,” paige said, shaking her head once. “this is me being respectful. you had a whole section, friends, vibe going on. i wasn’t tryna interrupt all that.”

"what changed?"

paige licked her lips, her eyes drifting for a second, just enough time to gather the words. then they locked back onto yours, more focused now.

“i did,” she said simply, offering no explanation.

you didn’t respond right away. just let the silence breathe as you thought to yourself.

you weren't naïve, you knew paige wanted you. had known from the second your eyes met. but what surprised you was how paige wanted you.

there was no flash. no ego. no embarrassing attempt to impress you. she didn’t lead with status or money or weak one liners. she came over with intention and left her pride at the door.

and that made you slightly more interested than you already were.

paige, sensing the silence stretching just a little too long, leaned forward slightly, her voice warm.

“i’m paige, by the way.”

she extended her hand steadily, no pressure behind it. you looked at it for a second, then took it, her fingers cool against your palm.

you introduced yourself, but before either of you could say anything else, the bartender stepped in.

“i apologize about the wait. you ladies need anything?”

you turned slightly, letting your hand fall from paige's loose grip before reaching for your purse. “yeah, i’ll take a paloma.”

your fingers were halfway to your wallet when paige quietly pulled a card from the back of her phone case and handed it over without hesitation.

“i got it,” she said, eyes still on you. her gaze drifted, lingering on the swell of your chest. the way your top exposed just enough to tempt.

she let her eyes trace every curve like she was memorizing it. and when her eyes finally came back up to yours, there was no apology in them.

you swallowed hard, muttering out a 'thank you'.

being this close to paige was fucking with your head. you hadn’t even planned on leaving with anyone tonight, but the way paige looked at you had you feeling something you had been neglected of for a long time.

not just lust, but craved. wanted. seen.

you liked it.

but then reality creeped in. you thought back to your conversation with zoe: paige bueckers, money, wealth, headlines, women.

you had her fair share of one night stands in the past, but never with a celebrity, a basketball star at that.

and that was the problem.

you didn’t want to be a quick fuck in some sweaty club bathroom that got sent off with a quick nod and a 'take care', or worse, plastered on some messy instagram page that lived off exposing celebrity's private shit.

if you were gonna give paige your time— your body, it had to mean something.

paige leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "and don't think i didn't notice that shit you pulled when you walked over here either."

you didn't flinch, but shifted your body toward paige, your knees brushing. the contact sent a spark up your spine.

your lips curled into a knowing smile.

“well... it worked, didn’t it?”

she let a beat of silence pass between the two of you, her eyes never shying away from yours.

"how long you wanna play this game?"

“depends,” you said with a shrug.

“i’m not tryna be just some quick fuck to you,” you said bluntly. “i'm not like these other groupies in dallas, and i’m definitely not easy.”

paige nodded, slow and sure. "good. i don't want easy."

"what? got bored of fucking every girl who threw themselves at you since you got to dallas?" you retorted.

paige didn't say anything, only chuckling in response. she

the bartender placed your drink on the bar with a clink, but it barely registered. your focus stayed locked on paige, who took a step closer. close enough for her body to brush yours, close enough for her scent to trickle into your throat.

her hand moved up without warning, thumb and index finger catching your chin, tilting your head up. not rough, but firm.

your body tensed on instinct, not in fear, but from how fast the atmosphere shifted around you.

“you think i came over here just to fuck you and dip?” she asked. “if that was all i wanted, i’d be long gone by now.”

your breath caught, chest rising slower. everything around you— the people laughing and conversing, the bass thumping through the floor— blurred into noise.

your voice came quieter than intended. “so you’re saying you don’t wanna fuck me?”

paige’s jaw flexed at that. she let out a slow breath, something close to a laugh, but nothing was humorous.

"oh, i definitely want to," paige confessed. her fingers moved just barely. the edge of her thumb brushed along your jaw like she was trying to memorize it. "you've been driving me fucking insane since i saw you and you know that shit."

you did.

and you definitely lied to her earlier. you were easy as fuck... at least when it came to her.

your thighs squeezed together under the bar in a weak attempt to calm the pressure building between them. it was borderline unbearable and you wondered if she could tell. if she knew how deep she had you already with one simple touch.

but before you could speak, she continued on.

"i just don't want to fuck you here. you're worth way more than some back of the club quickie." she said, her eyes flickering down to your plump lips. "besides, if im gonna fuck you, i need you stretched out somewhere clean and comfortable. preferably my bed."

the thought of paige having you stretched out made your mouth go dry. paige didn't move or touch you anywhere else, but it felt like she had you pinned. you absolutely hated it. you couldn't let her get you so easily.

"so what? you think 'cause you got money n'shit that i wanna fuck you too?" you said, gently pushing her hand away from your face.

"you talk a lot of shit, you know?" paige's lips curved into a smirk. "especially for someone who's been clenching their thighs every five seconds."

"oh, please," you scoffed, hating the fact that she was absolutely right. "fuck you."

you turned your body towards the bar and grabbed your drink, taking a much needed sip.

"tell me to leave and i will." paige said, her voice still sending shivers down your spine. "but don't sit here and act like you don't want me, ma."

you stared at the glass in front of you like it had answers. the buzz from the alcohol did nothing to help the burning desire for the woman next to you. you didn't want to give her the satisfaction, but you also didn't want her to leave either.

you turned, "if i didn't want you, you would know. trust."

paige paused. her mouth parted like she had something to say, but nothing came out.

instead, she bit her bottom lip like she needed to keep it together or else she'd end up dragging you out the club right then and there.

“finish your drink,” she said firmly. it looked like she was holding herself together by a thread.

you looked at her for a second, before obliging. you calmly took your glass and knocked it back with one clean sip, setting it back down without breaking eye contact.

"you drive here?" paige asked, pulling her keys from her pocket.

you shook your head.

"good. let's go." she didn't wait for a reply, just turned and started walking like she knew you'd follow.

and you did.

you glanced over to your friend's table to find zoe already looking at you with a knowing smirk. she made a humping gesture and you were quick to flip her off before catching up to the blonde woman in front of you.

it was about midnight now and the air was chillier than it was when you arrived. but you welcomed it, it relieved your flushed skin.

paige finally looked back once you were both out of the building, her eyes looking you over under the glowing neon club sign.

"you good?"

it was like she was asking if you were still in. wondering if you were going to start second guessing.

but you made up your mind.

"yeah," you said. "you?"

she nodded, biting her bottom lip before she started walking. "i'm parked around the corner."

it wasn't long before you two made it to her car. she led you to her passenger side, opening the door for you, and watched as you stepped in.

she then got in herself from the drivers side and started the car, driving off.

the ride was quiet. not in an awkward way, but dangerously quiet. the radio was a whisper and somehow during the first two minutes of the ride, paige's right hand had made its way to your thigh. you wanted to squirm. you knew she was doing it on purpose too.

but you tried to play it off anyway. your eyes stayed glued to the road, trying to distract yourself by reading random billboard signs that passed by. but your body betrayed you. again.

you leaned towards the window, quickly pressed the button down, and let the fresh cool air wash over your hot skin. but it wasn't enough to settle you.

paige glanced over, "you okay?"

"mhm," you hummed, shutting your eyes as your head rested against the door. "it's just really hot."

you could hear paige pause briefly before chuckling. "it's 65 degrees in here."

you didn't respond, just silently prayed for the ride to end before her hand slipped any further between your legs. but of course, paige, sensing your overwhelming discomfort, slipped her hand even further.

her movements were slow, tempting, almost as if she was waiting on you to stop her. but the slit in your dress and your slightly parted thighs gave her access to swipe her finger against your clothed clit.

“paige,” you warned, cracking your eyes open.

she wasn’t looking at you. her eyes locked on the road with her bottom lip caught between her teeth like she was holding back a laugh or a moan, you couldn’t tell which.

“hm?” she murmured lazily. her middle finger dragged along the edge of your thong, toying with the fabric like she had all the time in the world. “no more shit to say?”

and then she pushed it aside.

you were undeniably wet it was nearly humiliating. you had been since the moment she sized you up at the bar like she already had you bent over in her mind. but with the cold air kissing your exposed pussy, there was no more hiding it.

yet still, still, she refused to touch your clit. instead, she rested them on the inside of your thigh calmly. you couldn't help but notice she was driving slow as fuck too— at least ten under, like she wanted you to suffer.

you clenched your fists in frustration. "i'm not the only one who's running their mouth. you say you want me, but you haven't done shit to me all night."

she let out a short laugh, finally glancing over to you for a brief second. "yeah?"

her next move was sudden. before you could even process anything, you felt her slide her fingers inside of you, smooth and deep. your breath hitched as your thighs instantly widened to make more space for her.

a hand instantly flew to the passenger side door with a smack, blindly searching for anything solid to grip onto as she slowly curled her finger against your g-spot.

a sharp, helpless moan left your lips.

"say something else," paige said, her voice laced with grit.

you tried. you really did.

the beginning of a 'fuck you' was on the tip of your tongue, but the words died in your throat the second her middle finger circled your clit with precision, the pressure just right. you choked back a moan.

"drippin' all over my seat and i barely even touched you tonight," she murmured, almost mockingly, like she was pitying you. "look at you, ma."

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the blind spot mirror. the wind picked up, making your curls wildly stick to your face as your chest rose and fell in deep pulls. your lips were parted, legs trembling,

she kept her rhythm painfully slow. each time she pressed her knuckles deep inside you, she pulled back too soon, leaving you clenching around nothing but air. you were soaked. your arousal dripped down your thighs and coated her fingers.

"shhh... you hear that?" paige lowly, almost like she was holding back a moan. she dragged her fingers out slowly, making your pussy squelch shamefully.

you only nodded against the headrest. the feeling of an orgasm brewed deep in your gut as your hips moved on their own, chasing after the high she was refusing you.

"paige..." you gasped, voice cracking as your dragged out the last syllable.

then her palm brushed against your clit and you cried out, sharp and needy.

your hand shot down, fingers wrapping tight around her wrist, forcing her palm back onto your throbbing clit.

and she let you.

"you wanna cum for me, baby?"

you nodded your head, eyes fluttering shut. your legs were trembling against her leather seats as she slightly picked up her speed, curling her long fingers up into you

"shit, paige," your moan was desperate and breathless. "just like that." 

your orgasm was right there, sitting heavy in your stomach, just a few seconds away.

until paige suddenly retracted her hand. completely.

your body jerked at the sudden loss, your orgasm snatched right from under you. you snapped open your eyes to catch paige licking the thick coat of slick that was on her fingers like it was left over candy residue.

you groaned in disbelief, reaching over to smack her arm. "are you fucking serious?" 

she finished sucking the last of it off before plastering a lazy smile on her face. "deadass."

you stared at her, breath still ragged and your pussy still exposed, clenching around nothing yet again. you closed your legs together, cringing at the discomfort.

paige rolled to a complete stop at a red light before turning over to you, meeting your eyes. her hand found your thigh again, giving it a soft squeeze.

"don't worry, baby. we're almost there."

[brainddeadd]

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but I think Jack Abbott showing up at your apartment unannounced and slightly intoxicated saying he regrets how things ended between the two of you would be amazing. A rare moment/emotion but he doesn’t care because he doesn’t want to lose you.

I Shouldn’t Be Here

warnings: non detailed smut, angst, fluff

It’s almost midnight when the knock comes. At first, you think you imagined it. But it comes again—louder this time. You pad to the door in your sweats, annoyed, until you look through the peephole and your heart stutters.

Jack.

He’s leaning against the frame, head down, thumb grazing his bottom lip like he’s working through a thought he doesn’t quite know how to say. When you open the door, the smell of whiskey hits you—subtle, but enough.

He looks up at you with that crooked, lopsided smile he used to flash when he was nervous. “Hey.”

You fold your arms. “Jack. It’s late.”

“I know.” He takes a slow breath, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets like he’s grounding himself. “I shouldn't be here. I told myself I wouldn’t do this. But I’ve had a few drinks and… that usually makes me honest.”

You step back just enough for him to take it as an invitation. He walks in like the air inside is easier to breathe.

“I regret how things ended,” he says quietly, his voice stripped of its usual bravado. “I told you I didn’t want to get in the way of your future, but the truth is, I was scared as hell. Of loving you. Of losing you. Of not being enough.”

You stay silent, watching the way his jaw clenches and relaxes, the way his eyes hold yours like they’re begging you not to look away.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he admits, raw. “And I know showing up like this is selfish as hell, but it’s killing me pretending like I’m okay.”

A long silence hangs between you, heavy with everything unsaid. And then, soft—so soft you almost don’t hear it:

“Do you still love me?”

Your breath catches.

You should slam the door on him—on the past, on the heartbreak, on every night you cried yourself to sleep wishing he’d say the very words he just did. But he’s here now, looking at you like you’re his last shot at something real, something right.

“Do I still love you?” You repeat, voice quieter than you mean it to be.

He nods once, like he's bracing himself for the blow.

You take a step toward him. "Jack, I never stopped.”

His eyes close for a heartbeat, like the weight of your words sinks too deep too fast. When they open again, they’re glistening. You’ve never seen him cry. You’re not sure he knows how to.

“I was such a goddamn coward,” he murmurs, voice cracking. “You were everything good in my life, and I pushed you away like it meant nothing.”

You move closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to smell the whiskey and cologne and everything that used to feel like home. Your fingers twitch like they want to reach for him, but you’re not sure if he deserves it yet.

“Why now?” you ask. “Why tonight?”

Jack laughs under his breath, but it’s sad, bitter. “Because I saw someone today who reminded me of you. She had your laugh. And I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out. I had to see you. I had to know if there was still a chance.”

He finally looks at you fully—no walls, no smirk, no mask. Just Jack. Just a man who looks like he’s unraveling at your feet.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispers. “Tell me what I have to do. I’ll do it.”

This time, you reach for him. One hand on his chest, over his heartbeat. The other brushes the side of his face, gentle, like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“Start by staying,” you say softly. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning.”

He exhales like it’s the first breath he’s taken in months. And for the first time in a long time, you both feel like maybe—just maybe—you’re home again.

Absolutely. Picking up right where we left off—emotions running high, tension thick, and everything they've held back finally slipping through:

Jack doesn’t move at first. He just stands there, looking down at you like he can’t believe you’re real—like if he blinks, you’ll be gone.

But you’re not. You’re there, hand pressed to his chest, thumb brushing his jaw, heart thundering against your ribs.

And then he’s kissing you.

It’s not soft. It’s desperate.

His hands cup your face like he’s afraid to lose you all over again. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, until his body’s flush against yours and there’s not a single inch of air between you. The door is still wide open, but you don’t care. Neither does he.

You pull back just enough to speak, your breath brushing his lips. “Shut the door, Jack.”

He does—fast, fumbling for the lock with a smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth. But when he turns back to you, it’s gone, replaced by something deeper. Needier.

“God, I missed you,” he groans, walking you backward toward the bedroom. “Missed your voice, your laugh… missed this.”

Your back hits the edge of the bed. He’s already pulling your sweatshirt up, eyes locked on the bare skin he’s uncovering. His hands are reverent, rough with callouses, but careful—like you’re something holy.

“You still sleep in my shirt?” he murmurs, thumbing the hem. It’s one of his old Henleys, stretched and soft from too many washes. You nod, and it drives him a little insane.

“I thought about you every night,” you whisper, tugging his jacket off, your hands quickly finding the buttons of his shirt. “Wondered if you still thought of me.”

“Every goddamn day,” he mutters, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “No one else—fuck, no one else ever came close.”

The bed creaks as you fall into it together, clothes tossed aside with the kind of urgency that comes from long denial. His mouth is on your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach—he’s trying to memorize every inch of you again. Trying to apologize with every kiss, every touch.

When he finally sinks into you, it’s with a low, broken sound—like relief and ruin all wrapped in one.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and his tumbles from yours like a promise.

He moves slowly at first, forehead pressed to yours, hands gripping your hips, eyes locked on yours. Like he needs to see everything. Feel everything.

“I love you,” he breathes. “I should’ve said it before. I should’ve fought for you. I’m not losing you again.”

"I love you." You kiss him, hard, nails raking down his back. “Don’t stop.”

His rhythm picks up, your legs wrapped around his waist, moans swallowed into skin and tangled sheets. There’s nothing careful about it now. It’s raw. Real. Years of tension and pain and longing unraveling in every thrust, every gasp, every whispered “I love you” against your throat.

And when you both finally come—shaking, breathless, wrecked—it’s not just release.

It’s forgiveness.

It’s everything unspoken.

It’s the start of something new.

Sunlight spills in through the half-open blinds, warm and soft against the tangle of sheets. The air smells like sleep and skin and the faint trace of his cologne still lingering on your pillow.

Jack’s arm is slung low around your waist, his chest pressed to your back, body curved into yours like you were made to fit this way. He’s still asleep—barely. You can feel the slow rise and fall of his breath, steady and calm, like his whole world’s finally stopped spinning.

You shift just a little, and his arm tightens.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, voice raspy and low with sleep. “Not yet.”

You smile into the pillow. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. Not really.” He nuzzles into the back of your neck, lips brushing the spot that always made you shiver. “Been lying here trying to convince myself this isn’t a dream.”

You twist in his arms to face him. His hair’s a mess, jaw shadowed with stubble, and his eyes—God, his eyes—look softer than you’ve ever seen them. Open. Real.

“It’s not a dream,” you whisper, fingers brushing his cheek. “I’m here.”

“I know,” he says, like he still doesn’t quite believe it. “And I’m never walking away again. You hear me?”

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “Good. Because if you do, I’m changing the locks.”

That pulls a low chuckle from him, rough and warm. “You always were the only one who could keep me in line.”

He kisses you slow this time—no urgency, no desperation. Just lips on lips, patient and full of everything he couldn’t say last night. His hand slides up your back, fingertips tracing lazy patterns across your bare skin like he’s memorizing you all over again.

When you finally break the kiss, you lie there in the quiet for a while. Just the two of you. Just heartbeats and morning light.

“Let’s stay here today,” he mumbles. “Forget everything. Just us. Just this.”

You smile, tucking yourself closer beneath the covers, your leg sliding between his.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Let’s just stay.”

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 191 }

your heart belongs to me.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: an unedited, self indulgent, 18+ thirst post based on some readers’ asks; MINORS DON’T INTERACT!

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

anonymous said: I wanna be kissed my jinwoo until i find it difficult to breathe 🤤 thank you for the recent food

anonymous said: .... Yandere Jinwoo who pulls you into a mating press, not stopping until you're shaking, cumming, and squirting from the sheer amount of effort and strength jinwoo's emitting. Bro goes on and on like a desperate man until you can't speak and you can't process anything coherently anymore..... Rarararararrararararaa.... I despise him he's so hot I'm literally gigging in the corner whenever i see his cute ass face🫣

{ … }

your beloved boyfriend was just relaxing in bed, reading a novel as his grey eyes were honed in on the pages.

yet something about him made him appear extra delectable today. you stand by the doorway, eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of sung jinwoo. he looked extremely cozy tonight, dressed in a loose t-shirt that was raised ever so slightly as you caught sight of those delicious abs. his sweatpants hung loosely against his hips, and you could see the prominent v shape coupled along with a happy trail that matched his ebony locks of hair.

there was a discomfort felt between your legs, and you could feel your panties turning damp from how aroused you became. knowing that tonight would be the time where you were needy for your incredibly sexy hunter lover, you made your first move, literally pouncing on him.

jinwoo feels your added weight on the bed and sets aside his book. he gives you a sweet smile, but upon seeing your dilated eyes and the way you practically crawled towards him in the bed, his gaze loses all traces of sweetness.

“what’s this?” his voice becomes a deep rumble, letting out your name as he sits back in bed, feeling you straddling his waist before leaning forward. you kept silent, pressing your lips against jinwoo’s in a chaste kiss before purposely biting down on his bottom lip. a gasp was heard coming from your boyfriend when you suddenly licked and sucked at his bottom lip.

and that was all the urging your boyfriend needed to lose all of his inhibitions.

your giggle fills at the air when jinwoo immediately grips at your waist before tossing you against the bed. you give him a cheshire cat grin, hands already clutching at the wrinkled comforter as jinwoo was now hovering over the entirety of your body, his large hand gripping at the front of your oversized shirt before (quite literally) ripping it off of your frame.

you gasp upon feeling the cool, a.c. air against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all across it as jinwoo’s eyes glowed purple at the sight of your nearly naked form, your heaving breasts revealed to him as you were only left in your panties.

“no bra? naughty girl…” jinwoo’s chuckle turns darker as he places his large hands over your breasts, admiring how perfect they fit against his hand. when he gives one of them a squeeze while playing with your hardened nipples, you end up tossing your head back in response.

“j-jinwoo… fuck.”

he hums before leaning down to give its twin some attention, this time using his mouth. he latches on to your hardened nub and curls his tongue around it, suckling at them as you felt your panties become even more ruined in response.

a string of curses escapes from your parted lips, causing you to delve your fingers into his hair. jinwoo spends a considerable amount of time littering your breasts with love bites and heated kisses, making sure that they both received equal attention before moving on to taste a different part of you.

jinwoo slides down your body, purposely running his tented sweatpants down your bare leg as you shivered in response to such hedonistic friction. he chuckles at your flustered expression, not stopping until he pulls your legs toward the edge of the bed. with jinwoo situated on the ground, he grips at the waistband of your panties with his teeth, pulling them off completely with an expertise built from spending 3 plus years fucking and making love to you.

he breathes in the scent of your cunt, admiring the scent of your arousal before tracing his lips all across your pussy lips. the sensation of his tongue felt tracing at your core makes you react immediately, legs spreading as you gripped at his dark hair, feeling the way jinwoo devours you like a man starved.

his groans and grunts were felt against your aching sex, causing pleasurable vibrations to course through you as you cried out to him. only when he begins thrusting his thick fingers in and out of you all while continuing to devour you with his hot mouth did you feel your release quickly approaching.

yet before your walls could clench around his tongue and fingers-

before you could spill your juices within his awaiting mouth-

jinwoo pulls away from you.

you sob at the loss of him, your release already beginning to recede as you kept begging for him to make you cum.

“please j-jin, p-please! i need to cum so badly, i was so close, sososososo close- mmph!”

jinwoo interrupts your begging and whines with a kiss against your lips, forcing you to taste yourself as his tongue swirls around the hot cavern of your mouth. you moan at how erotic this all was as you could taste your honeyed sweetness that still lingered against jinwoo’s lips.

“what a needy girl you are…” your mind was dimly aware of how jinwoo was naked now, pressing his cock against your entrance momentarily before gripping at your two legs as he places them both against his shoulders. and it was in this position that jinwoo thrusts his thick and pulsating cock inside of you, his balls hitting at your ass as he keeps you in a mating press.

“sorry, but the only thing i’ll allow you to cum on is on this cock.”

feeling how deep he was makes your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head, the squelching sounds made from the way jinwoo fucks you into the bed making you moan at such a sinful sensation. the way his cock was felt pressed against your swollen bundle of nerves each time he thrusts back into you was what makes you lose it within seconds, feeling such a powerful climax overtaking your body as you released yourself against him, the fluids seeming to rush out of you in waves. your intense release ends up leaving jinwoo gasping as he stills his hips inside of you, still remaining erect as his dilated eyes take in the sight of the spot where you two remained connected.

the warm yet clear fluid continues to run down the entire length of his cock, and it was fascinating to jinwoo as he felt the same fluids drip down the length of his dick and into the comforters settled on the bed. an all encompassing smirk was seen settled across jinwoo’s features when he realized what you had done. “sarang, did you just squirt for the first time?”

you weren’t even aware of his words, so caught up in the sheer intensity of your release that your expression appeared almost drunk. as if understanding your less than coherent state, the shadow monarch lets out a rich chuckle before gripping at your ankles once more, proceeding to pound his cock in and out of your swollen cunt at an even faster pace, clearly eager to make you squirt again.

“such a good girl for me. how about i make you squirt the whole night? would that make my princess happy?”

you only managed to nod in response to his question, repeating his name in a never-ending mantra, allowing jinwoo to dominate your body as he kept you in a mating press for hours on end, practically ruining your bed by the time he was done with you ♡

a.n. - phew this was just pure and utter self indulgence on my end. need jinwoo to do me like this for real 🥵🔥

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Your writing is excellent 👌 Could you please write some more about daryl and reader getting into fights cause he doesn’t feel like he deserves her and he’s trynna push her away because he thinks she should go get someone better

Insufferable

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Angst. Fluff. Angry declarations of love. Daryl is kind of an ass, but we love him. Alexandria Era.

A/N: Well, I took my sweet ass time with this, didn't I? In what I hope is adequate penance, I am finishing up a smutty, romantic part 2 for this.

-

It’s not that he’s avoiding her. It’s that he’s been really busy, with things he’s actively volunteered for and made up to get away and okay so maybe he’s avoiding her. They’ve not been in Alexandria long, but she thought when he finally settled between the walls, stopped being so alert that he’d settle into some kind of routine like they had before. It had lasted a few days, maybe a week; He’d roll over in an honest to god bed, kiss her awake just as the sun started peeking through. Maybe its that this was more than they’d had before, maybe it’s the change; maybe it’s the goddamn comment someone made about ‘how that animal got a woman like that’, but whatever it is that set him off made him go into recluse mode quicker than his bolts fly.

He's been sleeping on the couch, pretending the plush bed makes his back ache. She believed him, of course, he’d never had a bed so soft in his whole life, not even when he was a kid. He pretends to have a cold so she can’t kiss him, and why would she think he was lying to her? But now? Two weeks of grunts and nods in place of words. Two weeks of flinching out of her touch like her fingertips are made of flames. She feels like they’re back at the prison when she first arrived and where he’d barely speak to her. He’d only just started being vulnerable with her before the place fell, nothing like the apocalypse to set things back ad-nauseum.

She can ignore most of it. The end of the damn world teaches you to ignore a lot of things, and she’s just scared enough of losing him that she doesn’t want to push it, but she can’t ignore the way his eyes look sunken, or the way his hand has started to shake a little at dinner when he sits far away from her and pretends he’s not close to dropping his fork. She can’t ignore the way he’s losing weight because he’s barely using the fucking fork to feed himself and he’s barely drinking and the tell-tale signs of stress that are weighing him down.

“Do we need to talk about this?”

He snaps his head up in surprise, leaning away from the tree he’d just sagged against after losing a bit of his footing. She’d followed him, naturally; watched the way his gait is off just slightly, as he tracks footprints. The fact he didn’t hear her following, being who he is and all, makes her panic.

“Nah” He dismisses, waving a hand as he pushes himself off the decaying sycamore. Even the trees look fucked these days.

“You’ve been ignoring me”

“Jus’ busy”

“I saw on the news last night that everything’s going back to normal”

It takes him longer than it should to respond.

“What?”

“Oh I thought we were playing the lying to each other game since you’re spouting such bullshit”

It takes all of his willpower to keep his lip from quirking upwards in a smile. He’s in a terrible fucking mood and his body feels like its made of lead but she’s always been funny in an acerbic way that speaks straight to his soul. It was the first thing that drew them together, she met every one of his sarcastic barbs with one of her own until they became inside jokes and affection. She’d never been afraid of him, of his temper or his quips; but today he wishes she were, just a little, so it would make this easier.

“Why ya out here buggin’ me?”

“You didn’t want to spend time together?”

“Plenty of other people ya could be spendin’ time with”

“You want me to have a girls night or something?” She asks with a quirk of a brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she rolls her eyes.

“Whole lot of available men at home ya could be botherin’ with”

She feels physically the way the word ‘home’ warms her from the inside before being stamped out like a boot covered in ice. He’s infuriating sometimes, has been the whole time she’s known him; he gets inside of his own head and goes quiet more than she’d like, but this is new, uncharted territory.

“Tobin, Scott, that tall one with the hair, whiney voice”

“Descriptive, but you mean Carter” she retorts, because carter does have a distinctly whiney voice and he is alarmingly tall and because she can’t bring herself to work out what he’s actually saying. She’s never felt unstable with Daryl before.

“Yeah”

The anger than runs through her almost makes her shake. Head shaking in disbelief she tilts her head up to meet his eyes, lets him see the fire that he’s lit behind them, the ire he’s seen but that has never been aimed at him before. He swallows around nothing, but nothing feels like shards of glass, mirroring her stance but entirely devoid of fury, replaced instead with a heavy stone of guilt in his stomach.

“You want to write me a list of these men you want me to fuck or are you happy just telling me?” She laughs sardonically through tears that threaten to spill over. Daryl has always been complicated but he’s never made her feel like a piece of meat before. “Lucky me, I’ve got my very own apocalypse pimp!”

He breathes heavily, fingers clenched so hard the muscles in his arms bulge, jealousy flaring in his nostrils like this ridiculous line of conversation isn’t his own damn fault. He is Daryl Dixon, though, predictable to a fault, so instead of apologising like he should, grovelling like he wants to, admitting he’s been a damn fool, he snaps.

“The fuck ya with me for when ya could have anyone?”

“Because I love you, you insufferable fucking asshole! I love you and you keep breaking my fucking heart my insisting I can’t!”

He takes a step back as if she’s slapped him. Of course it would be her saying she loves him for the first time that shocks him, makes him flinch, not the frustration she’d levied at him since she’d followed. He never thought she could; he’s not a stupid man, he knows there must be some feelings on her end, she’s made that clear. He’s been stone in love with her since day three of knowing her, but he’s always been too wrapped up in his own shit to say it. It should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? He’s certainly felt loved.

“Ain’t ever meant to hurt ya”

“I’m not an accessory you get to trade off to another man when you get bored of me”

He’s silent for a beat that feels ten times longer than it is. He’s horrified at himself for both implications. He loves her so much it hurts, loves her so much he doesn’t think he deserves it.

“I didn’t mean it like tha-”

“If you don’t want me that’s fine, but you don’t get to decide that I don’t want you”

“I do want-“

“And you definitely don’t get to decide to mistreat yourself, okay?”

“I wasn’t-“

“You were”

“Dammit woman let me finish a sentence”

“Sorry, I just assumed since you’ve been not using sentences at all near me you might want to keep pretending I don’t exist”

“I didn’t-yeah I did, ‘m sorry” He huffs under his breath, almost a laugh if he trusted the situation enough. He’s aware of how painfully ridiculous he’s being, how painfully unfair but she’s still looking at him with hope he hasn’t squashed out of her yet so he braves forward steps until he can touch her; palm up on her shoulder to bring her in for a hug. “I love ya too, ya know?”

She burrows her head into his chest, nodding despite the left over annoyance. She knows, has always know, he’s spent their entire time together showing it so plainly he’d be a fool to deny it.

“I’m sorry I called you an insufferable asshole”

He grunts against the top of her head, peppering a small kiss into her hair.

“I am”

“Well, yeah, but we don’t name call”

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk!Danny pt.5

If Danny hadn’t thought about quitting and going to rehab before, he’s definitely going to do it now.

It had been one of those days. Danny had sluggishly managed to usher Jason to school- pulling himself together for their walk to the building, because he wasn’t stupid and this was still Gotham- before going home and relapsing. He knew, going into the first bottle, that he was going to regret it. But he still hadn’t felt the buzz, so he went out to get more.

“Just one. I can stop after, if I want to.”

Spoiler: he could not, actually, stop if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want to, which was the whole problem.

So, one bottle became two, two became three, three became six, and by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, Danny had a pile of bottles scattered around the couch and an intense look of self hatred set upon his brow. He was buzzed, but his stupid ghost biology refused to absorb anymore alcohol.

“Stop brooding, Danny. It’ll hurt your brain.” Jazz said, a hint of worry around her joking insult. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Wha-?” He mumbled out back at the haze of her-hah- ghost.

The door clicked open. Danny whipped his head to wards the door, snarl on his face and ready to lunge at the intruder, when he came face to face with a scuffed up Jason.

They froze simultaneously, but before Danny could do anything, Jason’s hands tightened on the door knob. The kid’s eyes darted to the floor, where the bottles laid, and back up at Danny’s face. What he found there must not have been good, because he took a step back.

It was fear.

Danny felt his heart drop and his throat go dry. The self hatred doubled in size and weight, but he smacked it down in favor of scrambling for the words- anything- to fix the damage his stupidity and addiction caused.

“Jason.” He said, voice raspy. Had he been screaming again? Good start, good- nope. Never mind, Jason is using the door to shield himself now. Danny glanced outside and-

“Oh. I- I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He turned back to Jason, who eyed him warily. “I- I forgot to pick you, didn’t I.”

“…I can walk back by myself.” The hesitant but full of bravado reply made Danny’s ghostly obsession to protect rear its head.

“Still. I’m… I’m sorry, Jason.”

Jason evaluated him, noticeably eyeing his open hands and purposefully lax posture, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door behind him- clearly leaving it as an option just in case he needed to bolt. Danny stood up slowly. Jason watched him, and his hands. His smaller hands- Ancients, Danny was scaring a kid- curled up into fists.

“What… how did you get hurt?”

“Got mugged.”

“Are you okay? No- wait,” Danny flooded his liver and blood stream with ectoplasm, and his head instantly cleared. Ah, the agony of being coherent.

Danny subtly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus.

“Of course you’re not.” Danny stepped away from the incriminating bottles, slowing to a stop once more as Jason shifted backwards like he was either going to spring at Danny or bolt out the door. “Why don’t we get you patched up? And you can tell me about your day. That I missed, when I forgot to pick you up and that I’m really really sorry for.”

Danny held his breath as Jason considered it. “Are ya drunk?” Jason asked, tilting his shoulder to slide his Wonder Woman backpack down, hand clutching at the opposite strap. A good bludgeoning weapon, even if Danny would rather be electro shocked to death again before he ever hurt Jason.

“No.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he looked down again. Danny recognized the motion, a bolt of heavy nostalgia slamming into his chest as he remembered another red-head doing the same thing when he tried to bullshit his way out of something.

“I was buzzed but… I’m a meta. Alcohol doesn’t exactly affect me. I had to drink a lot to even get buzzed, and it’s gone now.”

“Y’er a meta?” Jason straightened, not completely losing the vigilance, but less tense.

“Yes. I’m completely sober right now, I promise.”

Jason stared at him, inhaled, and relaxed. “You better be.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.”

��—

Danny placed the bandages over Jason’s cuts.

“I am so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

Jason shoved at his shoulder, grumbling “I c’n do it myself.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

The kid looked away for a moment before softly admitting, “I was… worried. Cuz, I thought somethin’ happened.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. Jason slipped more into his alley accent the more upset he got these days, having learned some of the local accents at his new school and regularly swapping those out instead of sticking with his alley accent.

“Thank you. For worrying about me. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Point. From the mouth of babes came the painful truth, right?

“No. I’m not. But I will be. I’ll go to rehab, Jason. I don’t want to forget picking you up again.”

“Whatever.” Danny hid a smile as Jason ducked his head, looking endearingly like a grumpy duckling. Like, Jazz, when their parents made those blueberry ectoplasm pancakes she liked but thought they’d forgotten that she liked.

“And thank you, Jason, for coming back alive. I- I should have been there, but I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“I want waffles and ice cream for dinner.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, you musta felt real bad if you’re letting me eat that for dinner.”

Danny grinned down at the head of black hair (with their red roots once more poking out) and ruffled Jason’s head. “I let you eat like five chili dogs in one go. This should not be surprising. But I’ll let you skip the veggies today too.”

“… No, I want the veggies too.”

Danny let out a bark of bright laughter.

Yeah, there’s no way he’s ever risking Jason looking at him like that again. The kid looked like he thought Danny would come swinging at him, despite their previous meetings where he had, perhaps and with plausible deniability, swung for Jason, but never against him.

That night, after he tucked Jason into bed, Danny signed up for rehab. As a matter of fact, Jazz’s words coming into mind, Danny also signed up for therapy. For him and Jason. Yeah.

——

Off camera, they talked about why Jason react to bottles and hands the way he does, and why he’s so scared whenever Danny slips back into his addiction. I’m just rlly too tired to write it.

——

Danny, who thought his addiction wasn’t that serious and that he could stop anytime because he stopped for Jason: I’m cured!

Also Danny: drinks as soon as Jason goes to school

Danny was one hundred percent using Jason as a crutch and when he felt like Jason was safe, he slipped back to his habits. The only reason Danny’s not dead- well, deader than he normally would be- is because ghost biology makes it so that alcohol is cycled through quicker. Like the Flash, but less fast? Anyways, he had enough to make him lose track of time and forget important things (Jason) and that’s what addiction can do to you, amongst other things.

Jason might seem calm but that’s actually a combo of his go to trauma response (fight) and his experience of 1) being on the streets and 2) living with a previous drunkard coming into play. Also, you might be like what kind of kid wants to eat veggies? And to that I answer: KIDS THAT NEVER HAD ENOUGH TO EAT. I would have killed for a veggie stir fry with a lot of chicken back as a kid lol

On a lighter note, the whole time they’re having this interaction, I kind of imagined it as two chickens just kind of dancing around each other.

[belit0]

What reactions would the Uchiha clan members (Madara, Izuna, Obito, Shisui, Itachi and Sasuke) have if their Uzumaki partner suddenly and calmly told them that they were expecting a child?

I love writing Izuna and Shisui’s reactions in these scenarios

Madara

Madara stills. The room, the air, the very flow of time seems to stop around him. He is not a man easily shaken, but those words—so simply, so effortlessly spoken—unravel something deep within his core.

His mind calculates instantly: safety, future, the weight of his legacy. A child. His child. For a long moment, he says nothing, gaze dark and unreadable.

And then—he moves.

Wordlessly, he crosses the distance, large hands cradling her face with a reverence he rarely allows himself to show. “Ours?” His voice is low, rough, almost hesitant. And when she nods, something in him exhales.

Madara Uchiha does not know fear. But for the first time, he knows devotion in its rawest form.

Izuna

Izuna blinks. Then laughs. A short, incredulous bark of laughter that escapes before he can stop it, because—ha, no. No way.

-You’re joking,- he says, eyes narrowing as if trying to catch the lie on her face. -This is some kind of twisted Uzumaki humor, right? You’re messing with me.-

But she isn’t.

She just stands there, calm, composed, the very picture of serenity while his entire world tilts sideways.

-Holy shit,- he breathes, dragging a hand down his face. -Holy shit.-

He paces. Turns. Doubles back. Runs a hand through his hair like he can scrub the reality off his scalp. -This—this is a prank. Some kind of genjutsu. I—I can’t have a kid. I shouldn’t have a kid! I don’t even know how to take care of myself—

He stops mid-rant, suddenly looking at her with something almost suspicious. -Wait. Are you sure it’s mine?-

The flat, unamused stare she gives him is answer enough.

-Right. Yeah. Okay.- He exhales, tilting his head back, staring at the ceiling like it holds the answers to his rapidly imploding life. -So, I’m gonna be a dad. Me. A father.-

A beat of silence.

And then he laughs again—hysterical, unhinged, something close to a man losing his goddamn mind.

-Shit, I need a drink.-

Obito

Obito freezes.

Just—stops. Like his brain short-circuits, like his entire system malfunctions at once. One second, he's listening, and the next, his mind is white noise, buzzing static, sheer incomprehension.

-Wait—wait, wait,- he chokes out, hands flailing, eyes wild. -You mean, like, an actual baby? Like—a real one? Not—uh, not some metaphor or, uh—holy shit.-

His breath hitches. His hands shake. His throat closes up like he swallowed something too big, too heavy, and oh—oh, gods, his eyes are burning.

Oh no. No, no, no. He cannot cry. Not now. Not like this. Not like some blubbering idiot who just got hit by a kunai to the heart.

But it’s too late.

A strangled noise escapes him—a mix between a laugh and a sob and absolute hysteria—and suddenly he’s grabbing his own face, covering his eyes, trying and failing to stop the flood of ugly, hysterical tears now pouring down his cheeks.

-I can’t—what—HOW—oh my god, I know how, I just— He gasps, looking at her like she just announced the apocalypse and salvation in the same breath. -I’M GONNA BE A DAD??-

And then, oh, then the panic really hits.

—I don’t even know how to be a functioning adult, how am I supposed to be a father? What if I mess up? What if I drop them? What if they hate me? What if—

He sniffs, rubbing his wet face on his sleeve, eyes wide, lips wobbling, a complete and utter disaster.

And then, between sniffles, a watery, breathless, stunned whisper—

-Holy shit, I’m gonna be a dad.

He laughs—helpless, overwhelmed, still crying like an idiot—but now there’s something else in his voice. Something real, something warm, something so, so happy he doesn’t know what to do with it.

—I think I need to sit down.

And then he does, promptly collapsing onto the floor, burying his face in his hands, a helpless, crying mess of pure joy and terror all at once.

Shisui

Shisui grins.

Wide, bright, absolutely cocky—the kind of grin that means trouble—and leans in with a smirk that should be illegal.

-Well, well, well,- he drawls, arms crossing over his chest. -I knew I was good, but damn, sweetheart—pregnant already? You just couldn’t resist me, huh?

Silence.

She blinks.

Shisui blinks back.

And then—then, his own words actually hit.

Oh.

Oh shit.

-Wait.- His grin falters. His arms uncross. His face suddenly does something very, very strange, because—hold on, hold on, hold on, did she just—did she just say—

His heart stops.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

And then he laughs.

Loud. Wild. Completely manic.

Like an absolute lunatic.

-Ohhh my god,- he wheezes, stumbling back like she just hit him with a Rasengan to the chest. -Oh, fuck, this is real, isn’t it? I—I’m— He slaps a hand over his face, dragging it down like that’ll somehow reboot his entire system. -Shit. Shit, shit, shit—”

And then—then, suddenly, he just collapses, right then and there, onto the floor, legs giving out entirely, head in his hands.

A strangled, completely unhinged laugh escapes him.

-Oh my god, I’m gonna be a dad,- he breathes, eyes wide, body shaking. -Holy shit, I made a baby—

He looks up at her, eyes dark, full of shock and something terrifyingly soft, and then, in true Shisui fashion—

—You sure it’s mine?

He doesn’t even get to breathe before something very solid smacks him upside the head.

-Ow—fuck, babe, I was kidding—ow! Stop hitting me! I get it! I get it! I’m processing! Shit—”

He laughs through the pain, hands coming up to shield himself, because ohhh, fuck, this is happening.

And despite his panic, despite his fear, despite the sheer insanity of it all—

The thought of her, of them, of a tiny, perfect little person made of both of them—

It terrifies him.

And gods, he’s never been happier.

Itachi

At first, Itachi says nothing.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

The words echo in his mind, stretching endlessly, reverberating through his very bones—expecting a child.

His child.

His fingers twitch. His lips part. His heartbeat slows—no, speeds up—no, stops entirely.

It’s impossible. It’s beautiful. It’s—

His throat closes.

Because with beauty, comes fear.

A child. His child.

His blood, his lineage, his sins—wrapped in something so small, so pure, so undeserving of all the weight he carries.

His hands tremble.

What if—what if they inherit his sickness? What if they suffer the same fate? What if they carry his burdens, his grief, his mistakes?

What if his darkness touches them?

What if—

-Itachi.

Her voice is gentle. Steady. There.

And suddenly, his mind snaps back—to her, to the present, to the warmth of her fingers reaching for his.

He blinks.

She’s looking at him—watching him, waiting for something, waiting for him.

And suddenly, he’s ashamed.

Because—because this is hers, too. Theirs. And instead of—of joy, of warmth, of happiness—he let his mind go to dark places, let it steal from him what should be beautiful.

A deep breath.

And then—slowly, carefully—he lifts his hand, placing it over her stomach.

Warm. Soft. Real.

A new life, growing—something untouched by war, by sorrow, by pain.

Something his hands created.

His throat tightens.

-…Our child,-he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “Our—baby.”

His chest feels too tight. His eyes sting.

And then—then, something cracks inside him.

A sound—helpless, almost disbelieving—escapes his lips, and he presses his forehead against hers, his hand still resting over the small, delicate swell of her abdomen.

I never thought— His voice catches, breath uneven. -I never thought I’d be given something this—

Precious. Beautiful. His.

His fingers tighten, reverent.

And when he lifts his head, when he really looks at her—his eyes are shining.

Not with fear.

But with something softer. Something lighter.

Something like hope.

Sasuke

Silence. Heavy, weighted, thick enough to drown in.

Sasuke doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even blink. He just—

Stares.

-Say that again.

There’s no anger in his voice, no disbelief, only something raw, something too vulnerable for him to hide.

And when she does, when she calmly repeats those words, when she tells him they are expecting—

Sasuke swallows. His throat works around the sheer magnitude of it, his hands curling into fists before unclenching again, as if trying to hold onto something.

A child.

The thought is terrifying.

Slowly, tentatively, his fingers reach out—pressing lightly against her abdomen, as if afraid he might break something fragile.

-…Ours?- His voice is quieter this time.

And when she nods—

For the first time in a long, long time, Sasuke allows himself to see a brighter future.

[prythiansprincess]

CHAPTER TWO

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🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: somewhere only we know by rhianne.

🤍 author’s note: losing my mind because i'm in dire need of a theo nott italian summer.

Step 2 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting

Forced Proximity — : A circumstance or situation that forces the two main characters to spend time together (whether they want to or not).

After watching a horrendous amount of muggle romantic comedies — thanks Granger — I have come to the conclusion that the best way to squeeze a confession out of two lovestruck idiots is by forcing them to share the same space for an extended period of time, like say, the honeymoon suite in a romantic villa by the Italian coast. Never mind that I had to bribe stupid Malfoy with fancy imported French cologne to achieve it. It was worth every galleon to shove Theo and Y/N into a space designed for newlywed couples, complete with a heart shaped tub, champagne on ice, and a balcony that overlooks the stars at night. There’s a reason why forced proximity is such a popular trope. It’s effective as all hell, plain and simple. 

Second Year, The Black Lake

A misty fog cloaked the Scottish Highlands, bringing a dark and dreary atmosphere to Hogwarts and its surroundings. Back at the castle, your friends huddled around the hearth in the common room, drinking Zabini’s fancy imported hot chocolate and catapulting marshmallows at each other across the velveteen couch. On any other day, you would have welcomed the warmth and comfort on a rainy Sunday, but today you were needed elsewhere. 

As you trudged through the black sand, the coins in your raincoat pocket clinked together. You brushed your thumb over the raised surface and willed your heart to stop beating so erratically. There was no reason to be nervous. Yet here you were, dragging your feet as a familiar figure came to view.

On the shore of the Black Lake, Theo hugged his knees and stared out into the water. The raindrops gathered on his lashes and drenched his hair, bringing out the waves he stubbornly gelled back every morning. 

“I like your hair better this way,” you said softly, smiling down at your best friend. 

Theo smiled shyly as he brushed his hair back. “I look like a drowned rat.”

“Just a little,” you teased, pinching his cheek. “In any case, you make a cuter rodent than Malfoy.” 

“It’s about time someone knocked him off his high horse,” Theo retorted before tugging you down next to him. 

The sand shifted beneath you as you settled in. Theo pulled the hood of your jacket up, frowning when he noticed that the rain had still soaked your hair. “What are you doing out in the rain, anyways? You’re going to catch a cold, fragolina.” 

“Says the boy who’s soaked through the bone,” you replied with an eye roll. “You really shouldn’t be out in this weather, you know. Godric forbid you come down with something. Nonna would be furious.” 

“Good thing she’ll never find out,” Theo said, nudging your shoulder. “Because I have a best friend who’s great at keeping secrets.” 

“For now. Though I’m not opposed to selling you out for the right price.” 

“Fair enough.” 

A comfortable silence settled as the two of you gazed at the murky waters. As Theo contemplated the cloudy horizon, you rubbed the coins in your pocket. For good luck or comfort, you weren’t sure. 

“You didn’t have to come out here,” Theo whispered. His hands shook as he reached out for yours. “But I’m glad you did.” 

A heavy weight settled in your chest, but you forced yourself to smile softly as you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

The look that Theo gave you was heartbreaking. His gaze was full of pain, those familiar watercolour eyes lined with unshed tears. “I never am when I’m with you, Y/N.” 

Tears pricked behind your eyes, but you tampered it down and allowed Theo to lean against your shoulder. 

“Do the others know?” 

You shook your head. “No, I didn’t think you wanted them to. Not yet, at least.” 

“I’ll tell them one day,” Theo said. “When it doesn’t hurt as much. But for now, it’s enough that you know. I think she would have liked it that way.”

“Just me and you against the world,” you chuckled. “The way it’s always been.”

“The way it’ll always be.” 

“I miss her,” you confessed. Speaking the words felt like bringing heartache to life, but you knew that it was important to keep her memory alive. The anniversary of Evangeline’s death was full of sorrow, but there was also joy if you looked past the pain. Your mum always reminded you of that. “The other day, I saw a patch of daffodils out by the forest. They were bright and sunny, impossible to miss in all this dreariness. It felt like an act of rebellion. It reminded me of her.” 

Theo released a choked laugh. “She would’ve loved that.” 

“Mum thought so too,” you said in agreement. “I wrote to her the other day. She knitted you another pair of socks, by the way. Before you ask, yes, I have matching ones as well.” 

Your best friend snickered. While you adored your mother, knitting was definitely not her strong suit. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that though. 

“It’s a bit ironic that the head of the Department of Mysteries can’t solve the mystery of knitting, isn’t it?” 

You stifled a laugh. “I’ll be sure to mention that to mum in my next letter.” Theo chuckled as you crossed your legs underneath you. “She told me something interesting though.” 

“Yeah?” 

The coin seared into your skin as you gripped it tightly. You could hardly get the words out because you were so choked with emotion. “The last time she went to Fiera with Auntie Eva, they visited this temple. The Temple of Cupid.” 

Theo nodded, enraptured. “Mum told me about that too. There’s a legend about a fountain in that temple. La Fontana Dell’amore.”

“The fountain of love,” you continued. “It’s said that if you toss a coin into it, Cupid will grant you a wish. The two of them both threw their coins in there when they visited.” 

“I think I remember this story. Mum said that they both wished for true love. Your parents met on that same trip, right?” You nodded in confirmation. “I’m happy for your mum. Especially since Zio Alistair is my only ally against all you crazy women.” 

In response, you smacked him on the arm. Theo protested, biting back a smile. Your best friend blinked at the horizon, deep in thought. “Mum’s wish didn't come true, though. I don’t think anyone would ever call my father her true love.” 

“That’s the thing, Teddy,” you said softly. “Auntie Eva was already married to your dad when she made that wish.”

Theo turned towards you. His nose crinkled in confusion. The trait was so uniquely Theo that it softened something within you. “Then why did she toss the coin?” 

You brushed a wet strand of hair out of his eyes and smiled. “Because she was wishing for you.” Theo took a sharp breath as he gazed up at you. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces as the first tear fell down his cheek. “Mum said Auntie Eva’s wish came true the day you were born. You are, and always will be, her true love.” 

All the sarcasm and smirks — the armor that Theo had built around himself cracked. Suddenly he was sobbing, launching into your arms and clinging onto you for support. You bore the weight of his grief, so dense and tangible that you could feel it permeating the air. It wasn’t fair that your best friend was already acquainted with this earth-shattering pain at such a young age. If you could, you would bottle up his sadness and pour it into yourself just so Theo would be spared from ever feeling it again. 

“I miss her so much,” Theo whispered. 

“I know, Teddy,” you replied, rubbing soothing circles onto his back while you rocked him. “Just let it out. I’m here for you.” 

Theo pulled back, sniffling. “I’m here for you too,” he rasped. “I know you’re being strong for me like a good best friend, but you lost her too.”

The words unlocked a fresh wave of grief within you. All this time, you tried your best to keep it together. You wanted to be there for Theo. You couldn’t afford to fall apart. It wasn’t something that he’d ever asked of you, but you thought it was the right thing to do. 

“You’re allowed to mourn just as much as I am.” 

A deep, wracking sob rattled through your chest. You missed your Auntie Eva. You missed the way she braided flowers into your hair. You missed the way she snuck you gelato before dinner, knowing that your mum would have a fit if she found the two of you scarfing straciatella down in the kitchen pantry like criminals. You missed the way she told you and Theo about the stars, pointing out the different constellations as you lay on the roof of Nott Manor. 

You slumped into Theo’s arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck as the two of you clung to each other like a lifeline. It was you and Teddy against the world. The way it always was and the way it’ll always be. 

Day Two, The Temple of Cupid

The sunshine was blinding as you blinked yourself awake. Across the terrace, Enzo and Mattheo were cuddled up underneath a blanket while Draco and Blaise curled up on opposite sides of the sofa, clutching the ends of their shared knit throw in a power struggle. Thanks to the sangria, the lot of you had fallen asleep drinking and gossiping the night away. 

Beside you, Theo stirred and snuggled closer, his arm draped around your waist possessively. Sometime in the middle of the night, you had seemingly pulled the bottom half of the blanket over to your side, leaving his long legs exposed. Theo always complained that you were a notorious blanket hog, which you vehemently denied. Given the proof, you doubted that you could refuse it now. 

As you adjusted to the light, the double doors flew open, revealing a fresh-faced and well-rested Pansy. You had no idea how she managed to look so pulled together when you could barely see through your sangria induced headache. Her lips curled into a satisfied smirk when she spotted you and Theo tangled together. Out of instinct, you flipped off the smug looking witch. 

“Is that any way to treat your savior?” Pansy asked as she set down a tray full of sparkling vials. She clapped her hands, the loud smack echoing through the terrace. The boys startled, groaning about their hangovers. “Good morning, heathens. As always, I brewed a special batch of anti-hangover potions mixed with a little hint of pepperup to get you lot going. Drink up, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” 

In true Pansy Parkinson fashion, the witch managed to wrangle everyone out of the villa and into a private yacht with minimum complaints. The potion was certainly doing a lot of heavy lifting, but even without the aid, it was hard to be annoyed when you were too busy marveling at the charming coastline. 

Vallara was a wonder. The hills rolled over the horizon, kissed by the bright sunshine. The colorful tiled villas dotted the sky with cotton candy hues, which grew smaller and smaller the further you ventured out into the water. The sea was calm this morning and the cerulean blue waters sparkled as the yacht cut through the waves like butter. 

At the bow, Enzo and Mattheo peered over the railing, giving you a pang of anxiety. You already warned them to stick close to the deck, but it fell on deaf ears. You yelped as Mattheo dangled Enzo backwards off the rails. Blaise and Draco shook their heads as they each claimed a spot by the sun deck. Just as you scolded the boys again, Pansy and Theo came back up from the bottom deck carrying trays of food. 

“Enz! Matt! Food is ready,” you shouted, heaving a sigh when the two of them finally stepped back from the rail. 

“Were they doing Titanic again?” Pansy asked with an eye roll. 

“Worse, they were trying to dangle each other over the water,” you responded as you handed each boy their breakfast trays. 

“We were trying to look for sharks,” Mattheo countered with a pout. “Until you started yelling at us.”

“Yes, so sorry for stopping your extremely idiotic behavior. I suppose I should’ve just let you throw yourselves overboard.” 

Enzo grinned like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He took the breakfast plate from your hands and kissed your cheek. “Sorry, Y/N. We just got too excited.” 

You sighed and ruffled his hair. “One of these days those puppy dog eyes will stop working on me, Berkshire.” 

The brunette beamed brightly. “Not today, though.” 

“You spoil him, you know,” Theo said as he handed you a glass of orange juice. 

“I can’t help it. He’s like the little brother I never had.” 

“More like a pet you never wanted.” 

“Hey!” Enzo protested as he waved a piece of bacon in the air. “I heard that, you twat.” 

“See?” Theo said with a sigh. “Your beloved Lorenzo is not as innocent as he pretends to be.” 

You chuckled, watching Mattheo and Enzo wrestle over the last waffle before Pansy stepped in to straighten them out.  

Scooting into the seat next to Theo, you took a sip of the orange juice and balked at the taste. The bubbles were enough to make you want to spit it back out. The drink was more champagne than juice. After the sangria, you weren’t prepared for alcohol so early in the morning. Theo snickered as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Keep up, bella. Where’s the Y/N that used to double fist firewhiskeys at the common room parties?” 

“She’s still asleep, Theodore. For Merlin’s sake, it’s not even noon.” 

“Fun waits for no one,” Theo said before snatching the glass out of your hand and downing the entire thing in one gulp. 

“Oh, you’re going to regret that. I don’t want to hear about your tummy ache ten minutes from now.” 

Theo stuck his tongue out and continued scarfing down his breakfast. You finished yours slowly before joining Blaise and Draco out on the sun deck. According to Pansy, it would be an hour or so before you reached your destination, which gave you plenty of time to tan. Stepping out of your cotton dress, you adjusted your bikini and laid out on the beach chair. 

“Pans, will you put suncream on me?” Mattheo whined from the next seat over. 

Pansy twisted her nose up in disgust before sighing in defeat. It was easier to get it over with than argue. The two of you learned that the hard way over the years. She lathered the suncream on Mattheo’s back, half-heartedly patting it on. When she saw Theo step out into the deck, you saw the gears turning in her head. 

“Theo, will you put suncream on Y/N?” Pansy asked with feigned innocence as she handed the bottle over to him. 

You flushed as Theo looked over at you, his gaze sweeping over your tiny scarlet polka dot bikini. The tips of his ears turned just as red as he swallowed. 

“Um, I don’t know if that’s — “ 

“Pans, it’s really not necessary. I’m fine.” 

“Nonsense.” The witch shook her head, dismissing your statement. She leveled Theo a calculated gaze. “You wouldn’t want her to burn, would you?” 

“Of course not. I just —” Theo tripped over his words as he turned to you. “Is that okay with you?” 

“I’d be more than willing to rub you all over if Theo isn’t up for the challenge,” Mattheo said slyly. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Theo snapped. 

Mattheo and Pansy smirked at each other, watching as Theo carefully approached you. Clearly, they were both rather pleased at baiting Theo into reacting. Your best friend perched on the edge of your lounge chair, looking bashful. 

“May I?” 

Without a word, you nodded shyly. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Not when he was this close. His hands hovered over your back, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. Theo gently applied the suncream on your shoulders, massaging the product in with care. He averted his gaze while he worked, the tips of his ears burning the longer he touched you. 

You felt just as flushed as you forced yourself to sit perfectly still. This was ridiculous. It wasn’t like you and Theo rarely touched. In fact, you were quite affectionate, as every single one of your friends loved to point out, but it was different when you were practically half-naked. Squirming in your seat, you waited until Theo finished massaging the cream all over your back. 

“I think that’s good,” Theo said softly. 

You nodded, placing your hands in your lap. Mattheo cocked his head, a smirk forming on his face. “Do you want Y/N to do you next?” 

Theo looked panicked. “What?”

“The suncream, mate,” Riddle replied with a shit-eating grin. 

Fortunately, the captain announced your arrival before Mattheo could insinuate any more innuendos. As the ship docked, you peered at your gorgeous destination. The island was straight out of a storybook. The lush green jungle surrounded the base of a volcano, which spilled out to the white sands and turquoise shore. Instantly, Pansy called the group to order and announced the itinerary. The plan for the day involved dolphin watching, cave exploring, and a picnic by the beach. She ordered the boys to set up in the private cabana she rented, which they did so begrudgingly. 

Theo began to follow them, but Pansy stopped him short. “Not so fast. I booked something else for you and Y/N. You can join us afterwards.” 

Without further explanation, Pansy handed Theo a map, a blanket, and a picnic basket. You began to protest, but your friend merely waved off your argument. “Trust me, it’s worth the trek. You’ll thank me later.” 

As Pansy walked off, you and Theo were left to stare after her. You grabbed the map from his hands and squinted, gauging how far this little side quest was going to take you. 

“It doesn’t seem too bad,” you mused. “Just a little bit over the hill and we should find whatever it is Pansy has in store for us.” 

Theo nodded. “You know I never back down from an adventure.” 

“Not true,” you corrected. “You refused to go to the Forbidden Forest with me in third year.” 

“That’s not fair, bella. First of all, Sirius had just escaped Azkaban and sure, we found out that he wasn’t a psychopathic murderer later on, but how was I supposed to know that at the time? Second of all, he was hardly the biggest threat out there. Need I remind you of the spiders? They’re horrid little beasts.” 

“All I’m hearing is that Theodore Perseus Nott is a chicken.” 

“You take that back, Y/N.” 

You stuck your tongue out before breaking off into a sprint. Slowed down by the blanket and basket, it took Theo a few seconds to catch up with you. Alongside the hill, you followed the winding staircase that you assumed led to the peak. Theo shouted after you, promising to tickle you to death as punishment. 

“You’ll have to actually catch me first.” 

The taunt was short-lived as you reached the final step, turning around to gloat only to lose balance. Out of instinct, Theo dropped everything and reached out to break your fall. His strong arms wound around your waist, holding onto you for dear life. You clutched onto his shirt, the very breath leaving your lungs as you looked up. Theo stared down at you, his expression full of worry as he scanned over you. He released a sigh of relief when he determined that you weren’t hurt or injured. 

“Dio mio,” Theo exclaimed. “Don’t scare me like that, bella.” 

“Sorry Teddy,” you murmured, shakily regaining your balance. Theo brushed your lower back as he helped steady you, sending shivers down your spine. “I got a bit distracted.” 

His short-cropped waves tickled your cheek as he held you a beat longer than necessary, his blue eyes imploring. There was something alluring about them, like hearing a siren’s song after years and years of being lost at sea. Up close, you could map the constellations of freckles on his nose, brought forth by the Italian sun. Growing up, Theo detested them, often deeming them girly, but you always thought that they were cute. 

Your gaze fell to his lips, which you now realized were moving. Presumably asking you a question. “Hm?” you responded absentmindedly.

“Stick close to me, yeah?” 

You nodded as Theo guided you by the small of your back, leading you up the halfway point. From your vantage point, you could see the yacht docked on the shore. The boys were running around and playing in the water while Pansy lounged under the cabana. 

Up ahead, the path grew more narrow, forcing you and Theo to press up against each other. The summer heat beamed down on you, its warmth heightened by the boy leaning over your shoulder. Theo squinted at the map, his breath cool on your neck while you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. 

“This place looks familiar.” 

“I was just about to say that.” 

As you examined the map, Theo stalled to a halt. “I think I know why,” he said as he gestured to the entrance up ahead. “We’re here.” 

Atop the hill sat a beautiful garden, flanked on four sides by trimmed hedges that led into a labyrinth. The front gates shimmered golden in the sunlight, the curlicue letters spelling out a familiar name — Tempio de Cupido. You scanned the map in your hands, astonished that you hadn’t realized where you were until this moment. 

This was Fiera island. The same exact place that your mum and aunt Evangeline visited all those years ago. No wonder Pansy wanted the two of you to go alone. Theo picked the blanket and basket back up, staring at the entrance in awe. You reached for his hand and squeezed. 

“Shall we?” 

Theo swallowed thickly, his gaze heavy with emotion as he followed your lead. Together, the two of you made your way through the labyrinth, marveling at the sweet smelling flowers weaved into the lush walls. The path underneath you was white marble, surprisingly untouched by the dirt and grime. Vines crawled on either side, the green ivy moving on its own accord as if to guide you to the center. 

The temple stood proud and tall, its pillars looming overhead like a marble sentry. Inside was a statue of Cupid, his wings draped behind him as he held his bow taut. Heart shaped arrows littered his feet, flowing right into the fountain that took up the middle of the temple. 

Theo’s eyes widened as he turned to you. “Is that what I think it is?” 

You nodded in confirmation. “La fontana dell’amore,” you murmured softly, tracing the plaque beside it. “We have to make an offering.” 

“But we didn’t bring any coins.” 

The map in your hands glowed, revealing a secret message. Shake me. You followed the instructions and shook the paper, finding two golden coins sitting ready in the palm of your hands. 

“Leave it to Pansy to think of everything.” 

With a grin, you handed Theo a coin. He held your hand tightly and watched as you brought the coin up to your lips, kissing the edge of it like your mum told you she did during her last visit. Theo did the same, his eyes glassy and far away as though he were thinking of his mum too. 

“Make a wish, bella.” 

You closed your eyes and spoke your wish into the silence before tossing the coin into the fountain. The coins clinked together before hitting the water, shimmering iridescent as it sank down to the bottom. Theo gripped your hand tighter, a reminder of what this moment meant to the two of you. You squeezed back in reassurance, not needing any words to communicate the charged emotions surging through you. 

After a moment, you looked up at him and smiled. “What did you wish for, Teddy?” 

He grinned slyly. “If I tell you, then it won’t come true.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Beyond the fountain, depictions of the lore of Cupid were carved into the marble walls. The great love stories of mythology filled the labyrinth. Orpheus and Eurydice. Tristan and Isolde. Achilles and Patroclus. Finally, Cupid’s own story with Psyche. Each couple was in their own way, a tragedy. 

“Isn’t it strange that the god of love fell in love with the woman he was meant to curse?” 

“Ordered by none other than his mother, no less. Mythology does love its convoluted tragedies.” 

The irony of Cupid’s mother Venus commanding her son to strike Psyche with one of his infamous arrows so that she’d fall in love with a hideous beast only for the god to then fall for the young princess himself wasn’t entirely lost on you. Despite the trials and tribulations they faced, the dreamer in you admired their story.

“Still, Psyche persevered through the trials Venus put her through and became a goddess. In the end, her and Cupid reunited and solidified their union. It’s the story of immortal love.” 

As you spoke, you traced over the ancient script craved underneath the depictions of the couple. 

“Love wounds and inflames the heart.”

“I disagree,” Theo said. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt. It heals, it stitches your wounds back together, it mends the pieces of your broken heart until it’s whole again.”  

In that, you found no argument. You could feel Theo’s gaze landing on you. Those watercolor eyes that you knew better than your own. Those freckles that you traced over and over again until you committed them to memory. Those lips that spoke soothing words in your ear after a nightmare. 

The gods and goddesses may have their ballads and tragedies, but you had something far greater. 

With a smile, you nodded. “Love feels like home.” 

After exploring the temple grounds a bit more, you found the perfect spot for a picnic. One of the acolytes pointed you to a massive lemon tree, encouraging you to use the shade for an afternoon snack. 

You thanked the young woman for all her help. “Grazie mille.” 

She clasped your hands and smiled. “Mi scalda il cuore vedere l'amore giovane abbellire questo tempio. Possa Cupido benedire la vostra unione.”

As she walked away, you asked Theo for a translation. You understood a bit of Italian, but it required close concentration and the acolyte had spoken far too quickly for comprehension. 

“She said you’re welcome.” 

“Seems like she said a bit more than that.” 

Theo shrugged nonchalantly as you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. He rounded the lemon tree and spread the blanket underneath its shade. In turn, you began unpacking the food that Pansy had so graciously prepared for you. Theo sat cross-legged beside you while you prepared him a plate of bruschetta. Thanks to magic, everything stayed perfectly fresh. 

The two of you ate under the shade of the lemon tree, the citrus breeze ruffling the flowers before you. You wondered if your mum and aunt sat here in this very spot, admiring this very same view. 

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Being here, I mean. I almost feel like we’re seeing a glimpse of the past.”

Theo nodded, taking a sip of his limoncello before handing it over to you. “Maybe they saw a glimpse of our future. You think they knew that we’d make our way down here someday?” 

You took a generous gulp, indulging the tanginess of the drink. The view was picturesque with the temple standing tall above the peak of the hill while the sun rose high and bright over the labyrinth. Beside you, your best friend leaned back on his elbows and drank in the sight. 

“I think so,” you murmured softly. “Though I wasn’t quite prepared for how beautiful it all is.” 

Theo glanced over at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. It really is beautiful, isn’t it?” His voice was thick with emotion as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “I’m glad that I’m here with you. I think mum would’ve been, too.” 

“Me too, Teddy. I feel her here. Watching over us.” 

You could’ve sworn that the sun shimmered a little brighter and the flowers bloomed beautifully, confirming Evangeline’s presence. This seemed exactly like the kind of place that she’d love. Out of the two of them, your mum always said Eva was the more adventurous one. You always thought that it was because she was a little bit like magic herself. 

“I feel her everywhere, but especially in this place. It’s like fate brought us here.” 

The words brought a smile to your face. In your friendship, Theo tended to lean on logic. His pragmatism was the balance to your constant daydreaming, but in this place, it was impossible not to believe in things like fate. 

“Don’t tell Pansy that, she already has enough of a god complex as it is.” 

Theo chuckled. “I don’t think she was alone in orchestrating this. I’d bet a billion galleons that nonna helped plan this.” 

“Wow, a whole month’s worth of your inheritance? How generous of you.” You giggled as Theo dug his fingers into your side, viciously tickling you. Gasping for air, you swatted his hands away. “Plot or not, I’m glad they schemed to make this happen.” 

A comfortable silence fell as the two of you passed the limoncello back and forth. Down in the gardens, the acolytes tended to the flowers, pruning each one to perfection. Their sheer pink gowns shimmered in the sunlight and on each of their chest was an embroidered scarlet heart, surrounded by golden arrows that signified their patron. 

“Teddy,” you whispered softly. “Do you truly believe in fate?” 

A soft breeze ruffled the lemon tree as Theo shifted beside you, sending his waves to flop right over his eyes. “Yes, but I haven’t always.” 

“What changed your mind?” 

“Second year,” he replied matter-of-factly. “That day at the Black Lake. Do you remember?” 

You nodded. It was the first anniversary of Evangeline’s passing. One of the toughest days in your young life. “Of course, Theo. How could I forget?” 

“Before you came, I asked my mum for a sign. Something to tell me that she was watching over me somehow.” Your eyes welled up with tears as he smiled to himself. “Then you came and found me. You told me that story and I knew.” 

“You knew what?” 

“I don’t know if it was fate or my mum or the universe, but someone sent you to me.” Theo’s eyes shone with emotion as he tucked you close. “I think they knew how much I needed someone like you in my life. Whoever or whatever it is, I’m thankful. You held me together that day. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I would’ve made it this far. Thank you, bella.”

You sniffled, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Me and you against the world, right?” 

“The way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.” 

After soaking up the sun a little while longer, it was finally time to head back. You offered to help Theo carry the supplies, but he wasn’t having any of it. Instead, he tucked the blanket into the handle of the picnic basket and held out his hand. 

“I don’t want you to fall again, bella.” 

With a shy grin, you intertwined your fingers together. Theo led the way, making sure to carefully guide you through the winding path. He toyed with the emerald ring on your finger as the two of you walked, his own rings clicking against yours. 

When you joined the others, your friends were back aboard the yacht. Pansy explained that you would be going to the other side of the island to sightsee the dolphins. After helping her herd the boys, the two of you finally had some peace and quiet as you settled on the lower deck. Pansy pushed her sunglasses down and raised a brow at you. 

“So, how was it?” 

“It was beautiful,” you said, already missing the temple. “Thank you for setting it up. It really meant a lot to Theo. To both of us.” 

“Anything interesting happen while you two were at the temple of love?” 

“I know what you’re getting at, Pans,” you said as you shook your head. “But Theo and I just talked about our mums. How great it was to do something that they did together all those years ago. It was special, you know? I’ve never felt closer to Aunt Eva.” 

“Good, it was meant to be a bonding experience. Nonna said it would bring you closer together.” 

“It has.” You side-eyed your friend. “So you did plot with nonna to make this happen?”

Pansy didn’t even try to deny it. “Mhm, she says she doesn’t have long on this earth and that you two needed a push. She’d like to meet her great-grandchildren while she still has her strength.” 

You flushed deeply. “Pans! You can’t just meddle in our business like this.” 

“Of course I can.”

“How many times do we have to tell you? Theo and I are just —”

“Friends?” Pansy finished with a scoff. She nodded towards Theo, who was looking up at you with a huge smile. He flushed when you met his gaze, shielding his eyes from the sun but refusing to look away. “Yes, because friends sneak pining glances at each other all the time.” 

“We’ve known each other since we were children.” 

“And?” 

“What if it messes up our friendship?” 

“You never know if you never try.” 

“Yes, but —”

“What did you wish for in that fountain, Y/N?” 

At that, you fell silent. Pansy crossed her arms, a satisfied grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Fortunately, you were saved from further interrogation when the boys squealed at something up ahead. 

“Fragolina,” Theo called from below. He waved excitedly, nearly tossing his binoculars over the railing. “I found one for you, come look!” 

Pansy shot you a knowing look, which you pointedly ignored. She followed after you as you joined the rest of your friends. On the lower deck, Theo beckoned you over to him. You allowed him to position you behind the railing, holding the binoculars for you as he pointed out into the horizon. 

To your delight, you saw a dolphin breaching the water. It flipped gracefully into the air before diving down into the depths again. Theo talked your ear off and you listened to every word, mesmerized by the random facts that he was spouting. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Pansy shaking her head at you before she mouthed exactly what she thought about the sight of the two of you getting lost in your own little world once again. 

Just friends my arse.

The waves crashed against the craggy rocks as the boys headed for the caves. The stalagmites jutted up from the earth like daggers, dotting their path with its sharp edges. Inside, a magical ball of light guided their way. Mattheo led the pack while Draco grumbled at the thought of getting his brand new boat shoes dirty. 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Who buys three hundred galleon shoes just to go cave exploring?” 

Mattheo snickered. “You know how Malfoy is. He’s a fussy little git through and through.” 

His friend climbed the slippery rock, dangling overhead. Theo followed suit, never one to be outdone by his best mate. Like clockwork, his idiotic stunt hadn’t gone unnoticed. Somewhere behind them, Theo heard your voice echo through the cave. 

“Teddy, don’t climb on there. You’re gonna slip and get hurt.” 

“I’m a grown man, fragolina. I’m fine!” 

Beside him, Mattheo dangled towards another rock and swayed towards Theo. “Soooo,” he said in a sing-songy voice. “You two were gone for a while. Have you finally manned up and made a move?” 

“No, you prick. We visited this temple that both our mums went to years ago. It was actually really nice.” 

“Oh yeah,” Mattheo drawled. “Pansy told me all about that. The Temple of Cupid, right? You’re telling me that you and Y/N went to the temple of the literal god of love and nothing happened?” 

“It’s not like that between us.” 

“But you want it to be.” 

Theo remained silent as he climbed higher to catch up with Mattheo. In the distance, he heard the sound of rushing water. He followed it, catching a glimpse of the blue lagoon that twisted all along the cave network.

“For fuck’s sake, mate. We’re in Italy. This shit is romantic as fuck. What the hell is holding you back?” 

“I don’t know. We just graduated and there’s a lot of things going on.” 

“That’s the same excuse you’ve given since I’ve known you,” Mattheo said with a frown of disapproval. “You know she’s not going to wait forever. Even when we were back at school, there were already plenty of blokes interested in her.” 

“Like who?” Theo asked in a dead serious tone. 

Mattheo shrugged, purposely staying silent to annoy Theo. He hauled himself over to the next rock over and crouched. “Weasley, Diggory, Pucey. Hell, I had a crush on her at one point.” 

“What?!” Theo exclaimed. 

At his outrage, he missed his step and slipped. Theo hissed when his back scraped against the rock. Even through his shirt, the rough, jagged edges stung against his skin. 

Mattheo chuckled. “You’re too easy, Nott. I was just fucking with you. Of course I never had a crush on Y/N. She’s like my sister. The others, though. Them you need to worry about.” 

Theo fought the urge to smack his friend as Mattheo hoisted him up. He debated tripping him over to see how he liked it, but the others had already caught up with them. Too many witnesses. 

You bounded up to him, concern marring your expression. “What did I say?” 

Despite the scolding that Theo knew you were dying to give him, you gently lifted his shirt up and examined the scrape carefully. “You’ll be fine,” you murmured. “I’ve got some healing cream we can apply when we get back and you’ll be good as new, okay?” 

Theo pouted. “Okay.” 

Finally, you sighed and relented. Theo grinned as you leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Just be more careful next time, okay, Teddy?” 

He nodded and smiled. “Okay.” 

Behind you, Mattheo smirked and made kissy faces. What an immature twat. 

Theo responded by giving him the middle finger. 

Later that night, Theo returned to the villa feeling weary yet glad. While he certainly had fun dolphin watching and cave exploring, nothing topped visiting the temple. Theo wished you could’ve stayed underneath that lemon tree forever. It was a memory he’d cherish for the rest of his life. 

As he washed away the remnants of the day, Theo found himself thinking of you. The way you looked at him underneath that lemon tree. Today was special for the both of you. A turning point in your friendship that was impossible to ignore. Even the acolyte commented on the obvious connection between you, cooing over young love. She wished Cupid’s blessing over the two of you, but Theo knew that you didn’t need it. He had known it for some time now. 

With a smile, he dried off and slipped into his pajamas. “Y/N? I’m ready for your expert healing now.” 

As he walked out into the suite, he found you curled up on the love seat with an open book in your lap and the healing cream curled around your fingers. You must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for him to finish showering. His heart softened at the sight. The day had been long and eventful, no doubt tiring you out. 

Wordlessly, Theo put away the book and carefully carried you to the bed. Earlier, you insisted on sleeping there instead of the bed, which Theo vehemently opposed. There was no way he was letting you sleep on the bloody sofa. You stirred in his arms, burying your face in his neck. Theo smiled softly to himself before he set you down. Instantly, you curled up against the pillow. Theo tucked you in and pulled the covers over you as gently as possible. 

Leaning down, he kissed your forehead and smiled. “I wished for you, bella.”

[cece693]

more alec lightwood fics pls. 🤤🤤 there are barely fics about him 😐

STAKING HIS CLAIM

pairing: alec lightwood x male reader synopsis: You and Alec had been together for three years, and while you understood his fear of coming out, you still felt like a dirty little secret. Overhearing Maryse making plans of arranging a marriage between Alec and Lydia Branwell, you had enough. It was time to see if Alec would claim you, and what better way than to incite jealousy.

The Institute was always cold.

Not physically—though the stone corridors didn’t exactly invite barefoot strolls—but in the way secrets were kept pressed under polished boots and behind tight-lipped smiles. You had been Alec Lightwood’s secret for three years now.

Three years of stolen glances in the training room. Three years of his hands in your hair under the shadow of library archways. Three years of sneaking back into your own quarters before the morning patrol began, your lips still tingling from goodbye kisses he never acknowledged in daylight.

At first, you understood. The Lightwood name was a pillar of Nephilim society. Alec carried its weight like an iron pauldron. You’d been proud of him for it.

But pride doesn't keep a heart warm forever.

You weren’t even meant to hear it. You were only coming back from a short demon patrol, blood crusted beneath your nails, when you passed the drawing room and heard Maryse’s voice—clipped and pleased. “Lydia Branwell is strong, respectable, and already a high-ranking Clave member. If you agree to it, I’ll begin arranging your courtship before the year ends.”

A pause.

No objection from Alec. Just silence.

Like you were nothing.

Like you hadn’t spent the night before tangled with him in a tangle of whispered I miss you's and promises he never seemed ready to keep in public.

That evening, you found yourself at Magnus' door, shoulders heavy with things you hadn’t said aloud. “Darling,” Magnus said with his usual flourish, but stopped short at your expression. “Tell me which person to smite.”

You managed a weak smile. “Do you have a few minutes?”

Magnus, despite the glitter and sarcasm, could be serious when needed. He listened. Patiently. A glass of something spiced and golden placed in your hand while you spoke—about years of hiding, about overheard conversations, about Alec always almost choosing you but never really doing it.

When you finished, Magnus studied you for a beat, swirling his glass in one hand. “He hasn’t even mentioned you to them?”

You shook your head.

“Darling, I’m offended for you.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t care,” you said quickly. “He does. I know he does. I just…I feel like a ghost. Like I only exist when the lights are off and his parents are far away.”

Magnus’s cat-eyes soften. “I’ve seen many Nephilim go through that path: choosing convenience over someone they love. It starts with silence. Then comes the excuses. And before you know it, you’re a footnote in their glory.” His eyes sparkled—not with magic, but something sharper. “You are no one’s footnote.”

You looked down at your drink, the amber liquid catching lamplight like it might hold an answer. “I kept waiting for the moment he’d say something. Anything. I don't need fireworks or a dramatic reveal—I just want to exist in his world the way he lives in mine.”

Magnus rose gracefully and crossed to you, placing one bejeweled hand over yours. “You’re asking for dignity, not decoration. That’s not too much.” He tilted his head, lips curving into the beginnings of an idea. “What you need,” he murmured, “is a touch of theatre.”

You blinked. “Magnus—”

“No, no—hear me out. Alexander is terrified of losing control, but jealousy? That, my dear, is instinct. It bypasses pride. Bypasses fear.” He grinned with dazzling charm. “Let’s remind him how many others see your worth.”

You eyed him warily. “So what, you’re going to pretend to seduce me?”

“Oh, I won’t pretend, darling. I’ll simply act as if I see you the way he should. Head over heels. Devoted. Hands-on.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I summon a minor chaos demon to break his door instead.”

You snorted into your drink. “This sounds petty.”

“It is petty,” Magnus agreed cheerfully. “It’s also effective.”

You hesitated, thinking of Alec’s tense smiles, his glance over his shoulder before touching your hand in the shadows. You thought of Lydia Branwell arriving soon. A marriage alliance. A clean, bloodline-approved future.

And then you thought of how you hadn’t been invited to that conversation.

You set your glass down. “Fine. But I’m not throwing myself at you.”

Magnus smirked. “Perish the thought. You’ll be a vision of effortless charm. I’ll do the throwing.”

True to form, Magnus went big.

When the Institute had a welcoming party for Lydia Branwell, you invited Magnus as your plus one—a last-minute addition to the guest list that had Maryse raising a finely plucked brow and muttering something about protocol. But by the time Magnus stepped through the main doors in a coat of enchanted obsidian that shimmered like liquid night, no one dared question his presence.

He was breathtaking.

You barely had time to blink before Magnus’s arm slid around your waist, his rings cool through the fabric of your suit. “Smile, darling,” he whispered, voice honey-slick and wicked. The ballroom was carved from old stone and older expectations. Nephilim mingled in polished armor, Lydia stood tall near the head table, all sharp poise and golden runes, and Alec—he stood beside her, form stiff as his eyes watched you and Magnus across the room.

“I could spin you around the dance floor,” Magnus murmured, fingers brushing your collarbone in mock affection, “or I could just keep you right here and murmur scandal into your ear. Which do you prefer?”

“That depends,” you replied, voice low. “How much do you want to make him sweat?”

Magnus grinned like the cat who swallowed the canary—and then wore the feathers as a brooch. He leaned in close, lips nearly brushing your ear. “You’re positively devilish when you’re heartbroken.”

A few more steps. Alec’s gaze burned now, pinned to where Magnus’s hand traced lazy, lingering shapes at your hip. Isabelle had caught on, her eyes darting between you and her brother and Jace’s brows lifted, as if he'd just realized the plot twist of the evening.

You and Magnus stopped near the drinks table, and he, ever the dramatist, conjured two flutes of champagne with a snap of his fingers. The magic cracked softly in the air—harmless, elegant, noticed.

Alec moved.

Fast.

He all but stormed across the room, his face a sculpted mask of calm only someone who knew him could see right through. Magnus saw it too—his smile widened just enough to expose the trap Alec was marching into. “A word.”

“Of course,” Magnus replied, offering him an exaggerated bow. “Though you’ll have to be specific. Who do you want a word with?”

Alec’s eyes flicked to you, jaw tense. “Him.”

Magnus glanced your way, then to Alec, then back again. “Oh dear. Have I made a mess?” he asked lightly, before pressing a swift, not-quite-innocent kiss to your cheek. “Be gentle with him, Alexander. He’s rather fond of you.”

Alec didn’t even respond. His hand closed gently—but firmly—around your wrist, guiding you toward the archway that led to a quieter hall. You followed.

As if you had a choice.

The moment you were out of sight, Alec rounded on you, tension brimming in every line of his body. “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, voice low but furious.

You didn’t flinch. “Enjoying the party. Magnus makes excellent company when I can't bring my secret boyfriend as my plus one,” you replied, arms folding. “Especially when their mother’s matchmaking them with Lydia Branwell.”

His expression twisted. “I didn’t ask for that.”

“No,” you said quietly. “But you didn’t stop it either.”

Alec looked away. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you shot back. “Either I’m someone you’re proud to stand next to or I’m someone you kiss in the dark and hope your parents never find out about. And I’m done pretending one is enough.”

Silence stretched. Alec opened his mouth, then shut it, and for the first time, he looked afraid. Not of you—but of what this meant.

“I saw you,” he said suddenly. “The way he looked at you. Touched you. And all I could think was—he knows what he has. He gets to show it.” Alec’s voice cracked, raw and unguarded. “I want that too. I want that with you.”

You inhaled slowly, heart thrumming. “Then take it.”

Alec stepped forward and, in a rare moment of impulsive honesty, cupped your face with both hands and kissed you. Hard. Fierce. Desperate. As if he could rewrite the years of silence with just this one act. And when you pulled back, the door creaked—Isabelle stood there, arms crossed, lips twitching upward.

“Took you long enough,” she said, then tossed a wink your way. “Also, Magnus won the pool. I owe him fifty bucks.”

From somewhere down the hall, Magnus’s laughter echoed faintly like bells in velvet dusk. And this time, when you stepped out into the ballroom, Alec Lightwood’s hand was in yours. In front of everyone.

[ay4tou]

coincidence? i think not | samuel seo x reader

summary: samuel tries to get through the night until a run-in with you shakes things up. coincidence? he thinks not.

author's note: my samuel brainrot is at its peak right now so expect a lot of works of him 😔 | masterlist

You'd think Samuel would love clubs.

I mean, he does.

But he doesn't like it when he's there for work.

A club is supposed to be a relaxing place to get away from work. But now he's here for work? Everything about it pissed him off.

The pounding music, the fake laughter of his coworkers, and the way people stared at him like he was some rare animal. Tonight wasn’t any different, and he wished he were anywhere else.

But no. When work calls, Samuel Seo answers. That’s how he ended up sitting in the VVIP section, sipping whiskey and pretending he wasn’t seconds away from losing his patience.

He wasn’t planning to notice anyone tonight. He was here to handle business, not make small talk.

But then, you come up to him.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Your voice was polite and professional, but when Samuel looked up, he could tell you were nervous. You were holding a tray, standing stiffly, like you weren't used to it.

You were young and currently new to the job. That's why you avoided his gaze.

And that caught his attention.

“No.” he said curtly, turning back to his drink. He wasn’t here to play nice.

You hesitated, shifting your weight like you wanted to say something else, but then you just nodded and left. He figured that was the end of it.

He didn’t think about you again until he saw one of the regulars grab your wrist. The guy was leaning in, slurring something in your ear, and trying to pull away, your polite smile barely masking the discomfort.

Samuel sighed. Just his fucking luck.

Before he could stop himself, he was out of his seat and crossing the room.

“She said let go.” Samuel said, his voice low and cutting through the noise.

The man froze, his face going pale. “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“Did I ask?” Samuel shot back, his glare sharp enough to silence the guy.

The creep muttered a quick apology and slunk off, leaving you staring up at Samuel with wide eyes.

“Oh God, thank y-” you exhaled, voice shaky, but Samuel cuts you off before you could finish your sentence.

“Don’t thank me.” he said, sharper than he needed to be. “Just stay out of trouble and keep out of my way.”

Your face fell. You thought to yourself. "I was just trying to thank him, so why the hell is he being so bitchy?!"

Samuel didn’t stick around to care. He turned on his heel and headed back to his seat, already regretting getting involved.

The next morning, Samuel finds himself at the convenience store near his apartment, looking for coffee... and a pack of cigarettes.

At least, it was quiet until someone reached for the last pack of his brand at the same time he did.

“Sorry.” you mumbled, and he looked over to see you.

The girl at the club. Of course.

“Small world.” He muttered, glancing from you to the cigarettes.

You blinked at him, then grabbed the pack. “Uh, I got here first.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yes..?” you snapped, gripping the pack like it was gold.

Samuel smirked. “Can you even afford these?”

Your jaw drops, and you glare at him like he’d just insulted your entire existence. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me.” he said, enjoying how your face flushed with irritation.

“Man, fuck this guy.” you mumbled but intentionally said it loud enough to make him hear it while yanking the pack toward you.

"Sure." Samuel couldn’t help but laugh: two people fighting over a pack of cigarettes like it was life or death.

After a minute, Samuel sighed and let go.

“Fine,” he said. “Take them. Maybe smoking will help with that attitude of yours.”

You muttered something under your breath that he didn’t catch... or maybe he just didn’t care. He grabbed his coffee and left, the faintest smirk still tugging at his lips.

After that, Samuel kept running into you. It was really starting to annoy the both of you. At the club, at the store, even once at a coffee shop.

But somewhere along the way, the both of your bickerings turns into something else.

One night, outside the club, you and Samuel just end up sitting together while he smoked. You start talking about your shitty job, your useless coworkers, and your pet dog. It wasn’t until you ask why Samuel didn't like clubs that he realized he’d been listening to you for a solid ten minutes.

“They put all the attention on me.” he said, flicking ash off his cigarette.

You snort. “Yeah, poor you.”

Samuel looks over at you, ready to snap back, but you were smiling. Not the fake, customer-service smile he was used to seeing, but something real. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he just let the conversation drift into silence.

Around a month later, Samuel spots you again. Fortunately, you weren't working this time.

He watched as you stumble through the crowd, laughing with your friends and taking shots like you didn’t have a care in the world.

...Aand then you bump into him.

“Samuel!” you exclaim, grin wide and a little too bright.

“You’re drunk." he said, glancing down at you.

“You’re observant.” you shot back, giggling.

Samuel sighed, grabbing your arm. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here before you embarrass yourself.”

“What, are you taking me to bed?” you tease, poking him in the chest.

Samuel froze. You tone was playful, but something about your words stuck. For a second, he actually considered it.

“Don’t tempt me.” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

"I'm tempting you right now."

Your eyes narrow, and a smug grin forms on your face. Before either the both of you could think twice, Samuel leaned in and kisses you on the lips.

Fuck.

"Oh, so we're doing this now?"

"Yeah."

He leans in again for another one, but it wasn’t soft or sweet like the first — it was messy, desperate, and so fucking good. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair.

When you and Samuel finally broke apart, the both of you were breathless.

“Still think I’m an asshole?” Samuel asks, smirking down at you.

“Definitely.” you said, grinning as you pull him back in for another kiss.

[nieceeee]

“I WONT BITE UNLESS YOU LIKE.”

P/N: Ony’s life was everything he dreamed it would be. His dream career. A community he loved and who loved him. He had it all. So how the hell did he end up damn near losing everything when he met you?...

AN: This took on a mind of its own. There will be a part two... Yeah... footballplayer!ony x vampiresuccubus!reader, blood mentioned, biting, NSFW so minors DNI, fem reader, I think thats all. dont ask me why, just enjoy lol

WC: 5.4K

Onyankopon was living the life of his dreams.

A first round draft pick running back for one of the top teams in the NFL. Every day he woke up, he was living life on the edge. The grueling practices, the preseasons, the traveling. It was exhausting but exhilarating and there was nothing more that could take the joy away from him. His life was simple. Wake up, Eat, Football, Repeat. Simple

Until he met you.

The night he saw you was the night everything changed and the world he knew would come to a complete halt. One simple act of kindness set him on a path he never thought existed and one he could never escape.

That night, the alley.

After another amazing win, Only and the team decided to go out and celebrate. Drinks flowed over the waves of the music in the hole in the wall bar that they loved to frequent. Everyone was having the time of their lives..well almost everyone. Between the thumping of the bass and the bodies colliding with one another, Ony’s head was spinning rapidly. He needed to breathe. A quick step outside just to clear my head was what he told himself as he pushed the heavy door and walked up the alley steps to get outside. It was supposed to be just a short breather and he would be back in before anyone realized he was gone. But as he walked a bit away from the entryway taking deep breaths, his brisk break was cut short by a strange, almost whimpering sound from around the corner alley.

At first he assumed he was hearing things. “It must’ve been the wind.” he mumbles under his breath. But then it came again, that broken cry curving around the brick wall he was standing next to. Ony’s pulse thumps in his throat as he inches closer to the direction of the noise. It was stupid, he knew that. Knowing damn well we never go towards the sounds of distress but something was pulling him there. The noise continues as he rounds the corner. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw. A frail body huddled in the corner against the bricks, shoulders shaking in…fear? The cold? He didn't know but his heart lurched at the sight. As he walks closer he notices more of your features. Your hair is matted, pieces of debris stuck in your tangled mane. Dirt caked under your nails. Your dress a tattered rag of thin cotton. Only’s jaw clenches as he crouches low to meet your eye. “H-hey.” he speaks softly. You jump back at the sound of his voice. “Whoa whoa. It's okay. I-...I just want to help you up.” His hands are stretched out, palms facing you so you can see them. Your eyes stare at him and he can't help but note how beautiful they are even in this state. He slowly drops one hand, turning his palm to the sky, offering you help. You pause a moment but reach out to take it, allowing him to help you stand to your feet. Your legs shark from the weight so he offers more of himself to take the pressure off of you. As he assists you towards the street, he can’t help but notice your beauty in the chaos. Skin that seemed to glow under the moonlight. You were..mesmerizing. It stirs anger in his stomach. How the hell could this have happened?

Your bodies inch closer to the street, leaving the dark corner of the alley behind you. Suddenly, you hunch over in pain, releasing his hand and gripping your stomach as you whine again. “Shit. You okay? Can I h-help you get somewhere?” he stops and lifts you up again, checking you over. You fall in his arms, body weak and exhausted. “F-feed.” your voice comes out weak and raspy. His eyes go as wide as saucers. “I’m sorry?” he asks you, not hearing you clearly. “Feed.” you repeat. “Uh…” He isn’t sure what to do. Your tone is raw, like you’d been screaming but your tone was unique. Mythical. Foreign to his ears. “Feed? I…I’m not sure what you mean.” he looks around. The street was eerily quiet, no bodies moving like it would typically be on a Sunday night after a big win. Had he been in his right mind, Only would’ve realized this earlier but you shifted his focus. His attention is solely yours, the beautiful yet battered woman whose weak grip was on his thick arm. Feed? Is she trying to say she’s hungry? He thinks to himself. “There is a bar around the corner I can get you something to eat there if…” Ony doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before his body is tossed against the cold brick wall.

Before he could blink, you pin him. Your arm presses against his upper chest to hold him in place. Shock washes over his features at the drastic change in your strength. “Wha…what are you doing?” he attempts to push free but you press further, your hand coming up to tilt his head to the side. Your body glimmers as you press against him, running your nose up his neck. You glance up and look into his eyes and he could swear he saw golden spirals twirling in your irises. The intensity sends heat rushing through his blood, skin prickling as an odd sense of euphoria encompasses him. His heart hammers in his chest and confusion sparks in his mind as he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin as you lean forward into the crevice of his neck.

Then a pinch.

The elongated fangs pierce through his chocolatey dermis and his knees almost buckle. “Ah.” He breathes out. He was unable to move. Unable to speak. Time stands still as all of his senses are silenced, a surreal feeling covers his being as his eyes drift up to look at the night sky. It was bluer than he expected, stars shining brighter than before. Ony’s head rests against the wall as you gently pull from him, your power forcing his blood to continue to run hot. You feel your strength returning to you. Finally you groan internally. You were coming back into yourself. Swirls of your magic thrum through your body as his blood fills your belly. Ony, on the other hand, was locked into this place, eyes glossed over and arousal coursing through his veins. He shouldn’t feel like this. But the way your soft lips suckled against his skin, your subtle caressing of his neck. This must be your doing. There was no other reason for him to feel like this. He needed to pull away but he couldn't.

Instead he indulges in it, allowing you to feast. His chest rising and falling and the sounds of your gentle licks ringing in his ears.

When your hunger is satiated, you pull back. Your skin shines underneath the light of the moon, a breeze caressing your hair. Ony slumped a bit once he felt your teeth retract from his neck. Crimson streaks coated your lips like gloss. You drag your tongue across it, savoring the flavor. His neck still gushing, he feels himself getting weak. You dip back in, gliding your tongue across the mark, using rejuvenation to heal him and close the wound. “Fuck.” he hisses. His eyes flutter, vision blurred as he tries to focus on you. Once he manages to lift his head, your eyes meet one another. “Are you okay?” your voice wraps around his eardrums like silk, completely void of the strain from earlier. You help him stand back up, leaning his muscular body against the wall. “It wasn't my intention to hurt you.” you speak softly. He takes this time to look at you, really look at you. Damn you were ethereal. He thought to himself. Ony took note of everything from the shape of your eyes to the cut of your jaw and the fullness of your lips.

“The dizziness should wear off soon. And the…other...side effects.” you tease. If he were a lighter man, his face would be blood red from that statement. He didn't have to look, he could feel the strain against his jeans. Your eyes glance down and Ony swore he could see your eyes sparkle again. “Wh-what are you?” he manages to ask, breath heavy as he tries to maintain his balance. You give him a smile, the tips of your fangs sticking out slowly as you lean forward. “A figment of your imagination.” You whisper, your voice hypnotic to him. He takes a second to blink and when he opens his eyes again, you’re gone. Leaving him there confused and dazed. Ony stumbles his way back to the bar just as his teammates were coming out. “Ayeee there he is! We thought we lost you!” Reiner’s drunken voice shouts out, tossing an arm around his shoulder. ”I-..” He tries to catch himself but stumbles. “Whoa O, we got to get you home man.” Reiner laughs as they help him to the car.

The next morning Ony woke up, head throbbing. “Damn, remind me to never drink again.” He groans to himself. Last nights events toy with his mind. Was it real? He jumps in the shower to kickstart his body, his mind struggling to piece together reality. As he steps out of the shower and makes his way over to the sink, he sees it. A deep purple hickey on his chocolate skin with two tiny pierced holes decorate his neck.

“What the fuck.”

His voice was barely above a whisper as he inspected his body. His heart raced as he blinked a few times, attempting to register exactly what he was seeing. The tiny puncture wounds were barely visible to the naked eye but the hickey was so big, there was no way Ony was going to be able to keep this away from his teammates. “Fuck.” he repeated blinking and leaning into the mirror again to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “They gone be on my ass about this shit.” he groans. His alarm sounds jolting him from his train of thought, alerting him that he only had a few more minutes before he had to leave for practice. Bite mark out of his mind, he rushed to get himself together and head to the field.

“Boy what the hell did you get into last night?” a loud voice called from behind him as he took his jersey off. Practice had just wrapped up and Ony managed to keep everything under wraps. “What you mean?” he asked turning around to Connie. “You were throwed off yo ass last night. Rei had to damn near carry you to the car.” he nods at Ony. “Yeah, you came out around the corner and…Ony what the fuck is that?” Eren cuts through his own sentence. Ony’s brows furrow until it dawns on him. The fucking hickey. His hand slaps his neck but it was already too late. His teammates rush over to him, Reiner pulling his hand down as they inspect him. “Damn Ony, what did you get into?!” Connie teases. They pester him with questions and jokes, inquiring about the young lady that managed to get close enough to him. “It's not like that.” he attempts to explain but it's futile. They had already made up their minds about the mystery lady, asking questions that Ony himself couldn’t answer because he had no clue who…or what…you were. Or if he would ever see you again for that matter. His thoughts crafted visions of you after you had finished your feeding. Your golden aura seeping through your skin, eyes swirling with power.

Ony was perplexed.

Why did seeing you that way…turn him on. He wasn’t into hematolagnia by any means but the way your tongue slid across your crimson painted lips. It did something to him. Ony shook his head. She must have used something on me. I never would’ve acted like that on my own. He reassured himself. The heat from her hand that seared his skin wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced before. That must’ve been the reason he felt the way he did.

“She had to have put that shit on you if you can’t even speak about her in full sentences.” Eren teased, shaking his head at Ony. The heat dies down slowly but it doesn't stop his mind from wandering.

What the fuck were you?

After getting home, Ony hopped in the shower. His night going as it normally does. Come home, shower, study plays, eat then bed. Everything was back to normal. He let out a deep sigh as he climbed underneath the covers. “Okay Ony. It was just…a dream. Yeah, lets just say that.” he lied to himself and willed his body to sleep.

Your eyes appear in front of him causing him to jolt from him sleep. His gaze meets yours as you sit on top of him, legs straddled on either side of him as your hands press into his chest. “You…” he lets out. “Hello Onyankopon.” you whisper gently. Magic once again swirls from your fingertips into his blood stream. Ony’s blood starts pumping rapidly, rushing downward. “Fuck.” he groans, head falling back into the pillow. His fingers flex as he tries to remain calm. “Mmmm.” you let out, excitement coursing through your body. You lean down again and drag your nose against the opposite side of his neck. “W-wait. Please.” he calls out to you but your fangs had already extended and cut through his skin. Supple lips kissing against his skin as you feed from him once more. “Fuuuck.” you pull a moan from his lips. “Almost there baby.” your voice rings in his mind. His hands find your waist and he swallows heavily, allowing you once more to do what you want, helpless in every way to stop you. When you’re finish, you clean him up again and sit up. Still sitting on his lap, you feel his length pressing up against you. Ony’s eyes flutter open and he catches glimpses of you, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. “Who..?” Ony starts but you cut him off. “See you soon.” you lean forward and kiss his lips softly and just like that, you’re gone.

Ony jumps up out of his sleep in a panic. Sweat drips down his body as he looks around his room for any signs of you. His room was still, only the whirling of the blades of his fan can be heard. Was I dreaming? He thinks as he wipes the sweat from his head. The clock blinks 4:12am. Ony groans and falls back onto the bed. He attempt to force himself back to sleep but it was no use. With a grunt, he rolls out of bed and starts his morning routine.

Washing up quickly he throws on his practice clothes and headed towards the front door. His body was tense from the lack of sleep and the consistent ‘dreaming’. His neck tinged with pain. Ony reached up to apply pressure and crack his neck and felt a soreness at his touch. “Shit.” he pulls his hands back quickly, his hand wet and sticky. It took a moment to register that it was his blood on his hand. His heart pounded and breathing increased. “No.” he whispered to himself rushing towards a mirror hanging on the wall. But his nightmare was true. There on the other side of his neck was another hickey, bigger than the last. The same two dots in the middle. Ony stepped back bumping into his couch.

So it wasn't a dream. You were in his apartment last night.

“How the fuck?” A sense of fear grips his chest at the thought. You had managed to come into his home unannounced, feed from him, and leave without leaving a trace of your presence except for the mark on his neck. Ony’s eyes dart around the room searching for anything but there was nothing but emptiness. His phone ringing makes him jump from his skin. “H-hello?” he picks up quickly. “Yo where you at? Coach is looking for you man.” Eren says over the line. “Shit. I’m on the way. Sorry.” he responds. He hangs up and rushes out the door, current fears forgotten.

“Fuck.” Ony says as he arrives. Not once. Not once has he ever been late or missed a practice. His head was spinning and sweat poured from his pores. This was all fucked up. You had him caught up in his own mind and it felt like there was nowhere for him to escape. “Damn you look like shit.” Eren said as Ony stepped into the locker room. He ignored the comments and rushed to get ready so they could get out on the field. “Yo, Ony. You bleeding man.” His eyes shoot up and he stares off into the distance. “Uh. Y-yeah I guess I cut myself shaving.” he mumbled an excuse. “Ony you don't shave yourself. You literally have a personal barber.” Connie speaks out. Shit. “Well first time for everything.” he shrugs. He grabs some tissues and wipes his neck off and rummages through his bag for a bandaid. After cleaning himself up and covering the mark, he managed to get his gear on and head to the field

That day at practice, Ony was on edge.

His thinking was a bit clouded and it showed in his actions. Practice ended and his body felt drained of all energy. “ONY!” His coach’s voice boomed. “MY OFFICE. NOW.” Ony flinched. He’s never gotten into trouble. He was a star player. Always punctual. Always attentive. He drags his body to the office and slumps into a chair. “You want to explain to me was the hell is going on with you today? Are you sick or something? This behavior of yours is unacceptable.” Coach Erwin goes on and on. Ony blinks slow trying to register his words but everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

“Are you listening to me son? If this doesn't get better, I’ll have to pull you from the next game.” That caused him to snap himself out of the trance he was in. “N-no. I’m good coach. I promise. I just need some sleep. It won't happen again.” He stammered. Erwin looks him over for a moment. “Fine. But this is your only warning. Understood?” Ony shaked his head yes. “I promise. It won't happen again.”

That was the first time Ony had lied.

Because the next night, the same dream appeared.

Your teeth dip into his neck again. “Fuck. Please..” his begging was useless. You sit flat on his lap feeding from him. Gently you begin to rock back and forth as you savor his sweet taste. Arousal spikes under his skin as goosebumps litter his body. His eyes roll back in his head at the overwhelming feeling. It was wrong but he couldn’t stop. He didn't want to. The feeling of euphoria was too good to let go. “I can’t…” he pleads out, wanting more and less at the same time. You were sending his body into overdrive, the blood rushing through him making his flavor sickly sweet and you indulge yourself in every drop. When you pull back, you’re both breathing hard. His grip on your hips tightens and you whimper. “Ony.” you breathe out. “Shit.” He was so confused but the feed and his current state made him dizzy. His grip loosened on you and you disappeared before he had the chance to object.

Ony woke up again startled and confused. His head was spinning. He looked down and saw his dick standing at full attention. “Bruh.” he groaned, head falling back against his pillow. “This can't keep happening to me.” He complains. But that was one wish that wouldn't come true. Because for several nights after, the same instance occurred. You came into him home when he was asleep, fed, and disappeared. Leaving him in desperate want and deep exhaustion. Ony was struggling to keep it all together and it showed in his actions on and off the field.

It was in the middle of a humid practice session, when Ony began to notice more strange changes outside of just the typical drowsiness. Every time he ran drills or lifted weights, he felt this subtle tug at his physical energy. Something you were doing. It had to be you. You were depleting him and fast. He found himself growing more and more exhausted, his usual stamina fading faster than ever before.

And because you would only come at night, he could never actually catch you. He tried staying awake into the night to see if that would work but it was no use. His body was betray him due to fatigue and he would jolt awake once more. More marks began to appear in different places on his body. Some on his biceps and others on his inner thighs. And it continued the next day…

Then the next week…

Then the next month…

Before Ony knew it, he had sat out for two games and it didn't look like he was getting any better. Each time was more draining than the last. Sports journalists worried for his health and fans worried about the championship. “They're targeting you because you’ve become weak.” His coaches had told him. And it was true. The opposing teams had seen him in action. His performance was growing inconsistent and they fed on it. There was no choice but to pull him from the games until he could get whatever this was under control.

Ony had never felt more defeated in his life. His love, the game, was falling away from him and there was nothing he could do about it. He was angry. This isn’t even my fault! Why were you doing this to him? He was exhausted and in pain. His teammates started to whisper. Everyone was making assumptions. Pretty soon rumors started to circulate about the little marks with blood on his body. Random drug tests were ran on the team. Physical exams doubled. He knew it was because of him. So he wasn't surprised when he sat in the office with his coaches and the owners of the team.

“You’re letting me go?!” His heart drops into his stomach. “Ony, We’ve tried to give you time. But whatever this is. These markings, This erratic behavior. We are struggling to find a reason to keep you on this team.” Hange, the team owner spoke up. “P-please. It's not me I swear. It's her.” he blurts out, eyes widening at his own outburst. “Her?” His coaches look at him like he had lost his mind. “You got to believe me. I know it sounds crazy but this isn’t me.” he begs. “So prove it.” Levi says from behind them all. Ony’s adam apple bobbed in his throat. Levi was the big boss, a no bullshit type of person. “But I can’t. That's the problem.” Ony lets out defeated. “Either you prove it in the next 48 hours or you’re off the team.” And with those words they dispersed.

Ony felt like he wanted to cry. He was on the verge of losing his mind. “I can’t keep living like this.” he groaned. So he decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed his things and rushed home. “YO!” He called out into the empty space. “Are you in here?” he yells. No response. FUCK! He slumps to the floor. “Look,” his tone shifts, a crack heard in his voice. “I don't know if you can hear me. Or what or where you are but…Please. I can’t lose this. This game is my life. My everything. It feeds my family. Just…” he stops with a sigh. There was no point in begging. He’d done it before but you never answer. Suddenly, there was a fire lit underneath. You know what, Fine. If you won't stop. I'll make you. He stood up with a new sense of determination and rushed to his laptop. The rest of that evening he studied everything he could about mythical creatures and what keeps them away.

He read up on scent blockers and set to work to create his own. “Masking your scent from vampires, werewolves, and other mythical creatures..” he mumbled reading through the instructions. Finally, after hours of work it was time to put his plan in motion. After his shower, he lathered his body in the homemade concoction. “This better work.” he says before forcing himself to sleep.

The next morning Ony woke up before his alarms. He felt…rested. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom to check himself over. There were no bruises, no hickeys. Nothing. It worked! He thought happily. He quickly cleaned himself up and headed to practice. He was the first one of the field when everyone else arrived. “Whoa, look who seems to be feeling better.” Reiner said patting him on the back. Ony smiled. He knew he had a while to recover but for the first time in a while, he felt like he was on the right track.

After practice, the coaches sat the team down in the middle of the field to do wrap up. The bosses had came back but this time Ony was ready for them. “I’m guessing you have your proof.” Levi spoke as he stepped onto the field. “I-..well technically no but I do think I have a solution to my problem.” he started to explain but gasps and a thunderous noise behind him caught his attention. Levi’s eyes looked past him towards the middle of the field. No. Ony didn't need to turn around to know it was you. Your scent was intoxicating. When he did turn, his jaw dropped open. You stood in the middle of the field, skin glowing, wearing an outfit that put Akasha to shame. “Shit.” Ony let out.

Your eyes scan the field and when they find him, you lock onto his gaze. “You hid from me.” Your voice calls out. Low but intimidating. “I-...” Ony looked around at the confused faces of his team members and coaches. The pout you wore of your face was…cute? What the fuck was he thinking? You found him and you’re here. They can see you! “You didn't give me a choice. You were draining me.” he let out in frustration. “I don't like being ignored Ony.” you speak. Within a blink, you were standing in front of him, your chest pressed into his.

“How did you find me?” he asks you. His teammates had stopped what they were doing, eyes wide as they watched the scene unfold. The coaches stood frozen, confused, unsure of what to make of the strange woman who had just appeared on the field. “I always get what I want Ony.” you say and before he could think, your hands were on him, teeth elongated and breaking through his skin. “Fuck.” he groans at the impact, hands lifting and gripping your waist again. But this felt different. It wasn’t just your regular poke and suck. Ony’s skin singed before wave of…something flowed into his bloodstream. He felt lightweight but those familiar thrums of pleasure were still present.

When you finally pull back, there is a ghostly silence from those around you. “Now,” you smile, licking your lips. “You can’t escape me if you tried.” you say matter of factly. “Fascinating.” A woman’s voice speaks up from behind him. He turned to see Hange with a wide smile on her face. “I didn't think you were real. All these years. Wow.” she exclaimed. You tilt your head at her peculiar nature. “Y-you know her? You can see her?” Ony asks. “Of course they can see me. I’m not a ghost.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now, can you explain why you tried to hide from me in the first place?” you turn your attention back to him. “Can we not… discuss this here?” he asks. You look around at the shocked faces. “Fine. I'll meet you at your apartment. You better not be late.” and with that you disappear.

Ony closes his eyes and takes a few breaths before opening them again to prepare himself for the onslaught of questions he was going to receive. “Well, we see what caused the draining.” Levi spoke first, tone of voice still as nonchalant as before. “AMAZING! Ony do you know who that was?!” Hange rushes to him, shaking his shoulders. “A girl I met outside the bar?” he says confused. “WHAT?! NO! That was Y/N. The entity of all entities. THE Queen Vamp herself. We were standing in the presence of royalty and SHE MARKED YOU! WOW!” Hange rushes through jumping with excitement as she looked over his neck, your mark singed into his skin like ink. “I’m sorry Queen vamp? What?” Ony tried to rap his head around it but it only left him with more questions. “Oh this is perfect. You have to go. Go go go! She's going to be waiting! Go and come back and tell us more! See you at practice tomorrow!” she says before basically shoving him to the door.

Ony walked into the door of his apartment with nerves bundling in his belly. What the hell was he getting into. Queen vamp? What does that even mean? He dropped his keys by the door and looked around. You were nowhere to be found. “Uh, h-hello?” he calls out. I'm in your room. Your voice says in his head. “What the hell? How?” he starts. He walks towards the room and sees you there. You were sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed. He stood in the doorway, heart beating fast as he locks eyes with you. You both stood there in silence gaging each others next move. “What are you?” Ony asks, finally working up the courage to speak up. “A vampire succubus. Queen Vampire Succubus to be exact.” you answer him swiftly. “So what does that mean?” he asks, confusion causing his brows to knit together. “I'm a vampire. I suck blood.” you state. He presses his lips into a flat line. “Obviously, but the other thing? The succubus? What does that mean?” he asks. You smirk at him. “Why don't you look up what a succubus is Ony?” you say sweetly. His eyes narrow at you before pulling out his phone and doing a quick search. As he reads, his eyes widen with surprise. “O-oh.” he says softly before looking back up at you. “Your dreams starting to make sense?” you laugh. Chest rising and falling, he slowly nods.

“So now that that's squared away. Why did you run from me?” you say, pout pulling at your lips again. “B-because. I was going to be kicked off the team. And you wouldn't listen to me. I had to do something.” he explains. You stare him down for a moment, the silence encapsulating you both. “I…apologize,” you start, “I wasn’t aware that I was causing you so much stress. It wasn’t my intention. It's just…” you stop for a moment. “Just?” he encourages. A blink and you were standing right in front of him. “You’re...intoxicating.” you explain, hand dragging down his chest. “Shit.” he whispers out. “I- I can't explain it. But your blood, your essence, its…enticing. It's the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. In all of my time as Queen, I’ve never been so drawn to someone but you. You are different. I crave you.” you speak low as you maintain eye contact. Ony couldn’t help the way his blood began to run hot at your words. His teeth clench together with intensity.

“You’re the queen?” Ony asks, attempting to calm him temperature by changing the subject. “That’s… a lot to process.” You smile softly. “It's a lot to carry.” you respond. Ony couldn’t help it. The way his eyes dropped to your lips, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Despite the crazy turn of events, he was drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. “Ony. Don't do that.” you whine breaking his train of thought. “Do what?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Your arousal baby. I marked you. I can feel it.” you whimper pressing against him. “Is that…the other part of your power?” he asks you, hands sliding up and gripping your waist. You let out a soft whine as you nod your head. “So how does it work exactly? The…other power.” He asks with slight hesitation. Your eyes lock onto his as your fangs elongated, a smile splitting your lips. “Do you want to find out?” His eyes dilate as your magic starts to whirl underneath your fingertips. He takes a deep breath and utters one simple word.

“Please.”

[waitsobs]

THE LONG GAME ⋆˚࿔ chapter thirty-five!

When popular actress y/n l/n's private account gets exposed, it is revealed that she has a crush on one of the girls from the girl group katseye. y//n tries to de-escalate the situation, but makes it worse, and loses her chance with the girl. The only way she think of winning the girl over is by playing the long game. 

REALIZATIONS

Minji and y/n had been at the carnival for about an hour, their laughter mixing with the sounds of carnival music and excited chatter that filled the air. They had tried different rides, bought overpriced food, and attempted (and failed) to win stuffed animals at the carnival games. 

“I swear, those games are rigged.” y/n groaned, wiping a hand across her forehead like she’d just fought a battle.

Minji, snickered beside her. “Well, maybe you need to aim better,” she teased, nudging y/n’s shoulder with a playful smirk.

y/n glared at her, nudging her back in response. “Hey, I have great aim! My throwing shoulder is just off at the moment.”

Minji raised an eyebrow. “Oh, okay, well, hopefully your ‘throwing shoulder’ can make a comeback before we leave.” she said with a grin.

They continued walking through the carnival grounds, passing by a row of flashing lights and excited people. It wasn’t long before they found themselves standing in front of the Ferris wheel, its enormous structure lit up in vibrant neon colors that almost seemed to light up against the night sky.

"Hey." Minji said, her eyes wide with excitement as she tapped y/n’s arm to get her attention. "We should go get on."

y/n looked up at the Ferris wheel, grinning. “Oh hell yeah. Let’s do it.”

They made their way toward the line, where the conductor ushered them into one of the cars. The car rocked slightly as they climbed in, the metal creaking under their weight. As the wheel slowly began to turn, they settled back into the seats, watching the fair below them grow smaller and smaller with each passing moment.

"This is the best part of the whole night, I swear." y/n said, her voice soft as she took in the view. She could see the entire fair from up here, the glowing lights, the crowds of people all around.

“Hey, look, there’s the food stalls! You can see all the crazy lines for the drinks and funnel cakes from up here.” Minji pointed out over the fairgrounds, her eyes sparkling with the joy of the moment.

y/n laughed. “Oh my god, you really can.” She leaned over the edge a bit more, taking in the view, feeling the cool breeze as they slowly ascended higher.

The ride came to a gentle stop, leaving Minji and y/n at the top. It was quiet now, the sounds of the carnival growing faint. Y/n turned her head to look at Minji, only to find her staring intently at her, a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“What?” Y/n asked with a slight smile, a little confused, a little nervous. The atmosphere had shifted, and she wasn’t sure why. But before she could process what was happening, Minji was suddenly leaning in, her lips pressing softly against y/n’s.

y/n froze, her eyes wide in shock. The kiss was brief, just a fleeting moment that caught her completely off guard. Her body instinctively recoiled, and she jerked back with such force that she nearly gave herself whiplash.

"Minji, I-" y/n started, her mind scrambling to make sense of the situation, but Minji quickly cut her off, her face flushing bright red.

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry!" Minji stammered, her voice laced with embarrassment. “I thought- I thought we were having a moment. I didn’t mean to”

y/n, still processing the moment, swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, I just... I wasn’t expecting that.”

The air between them grew thick with awkward tension, and neither of them said anything for a few long seconds. The Ferris wheel began to move again, jerking them back into motion as it continued its slow journey down.

When it was their turn to get off, y/n rushed out of the car, her thoughts were racing. She didn’t mean to leave Minji behind, but she needed a moment to think.

The kiss had caught her off guard, yes, but it wasn’t just that. She didn’t feel the spark she had been hoping for. Instead, all she could think about was Megan. Her crush on Megan hadn’t gone away, no matter how much she tried to push it aside. It was still there, buried deep inside her, and the kiss with Minji only made that more painfully clear.

She had to be honest with herself. She liked Megan.

masterlist ⭑.ᐟ next

taglist: @saysirhc @urmom2314 @artrizzler19 @yeetaberry127 @yjiminswallet @lara4eclipze @meiphobic @meizinisnumberone @meganskiendielsbtc @soobnotfound @linnnsworld @1luvkarina @raviolisupremacy @peranoo @vrtualstar @ssamlovr @gtfoiydlyj @firstclassjaylee @kristalag @xochitlisbest  @yazzyminny @esccecvp @snoopyiz @vivilvr @fearnotfearmore @apersonwhowrites @blushmimi @cassiespoiler @wtfisthisnoclueman  | taglist opened 

[callme-holly]

I want ti request a female character for Benny Cross, the description of the character is someone originally from the Chicago area. They are returning home because they’re dad died so they have to clean out the house, etc. Maybe they are like a librarian which means they are booksmart as well as being kid of rebellious & free-spirited. They have also loved in different places like California (where they met “Cal”), west Berlin (the “free side”), Istanbul (Turkey), & the Australian outback. You can pick any story that might fit anything, but I would like how Benny & her would first meet.

I really appreciate it soo much cause I read all the Benny Cross already and we need soo much more!

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 [benny cross x reader]

a/n: sorry for any typos, my brain is fried rn. but my inbox is open for requests so send them in i beg (pretty please)

The moment you stepped over the threshold, it was clear the house hadn’t been touched in weeks, the scent of dust and lingering wood polish hanging in the air like a bad memory. It was like grief sealed up in a vacuum bag, the kind of smell that clings to you and makes everything feel heavier.

Everything looked just as it had done when you left, like it hadn’t changed: the same yellowy wallpaper, the same books on the same shelves, the wood lighter and more grazed, the same carpet, and the same furniture.

You’d never thought you’d come back, at least not for this. Never to sit here, in the middle of your childhood home, packing your dad’s belongings away in a cardboard box, sealed tight with tape, never to see the light of day again.

Gone. Just like him.

The record player, his boots, photos, and dog-eared books he’d never finished. All of it was set aside with a strong sense of grief you tried to ignore, like a bad cold that wouldn’t go away.

To keep yourself from losing it, you managed to scrape yourself a job, some little library thing that made the days not seem so lonely and oppressive.

It was quieter there, quieter than the market-lined streets of Istanbul or the dry wind of the Outback. A silence that lifted a significant weight off your chest.

It was there you met Kathy; she was nice enough, decent to talk to and could keep a conversation running for hours. She was a nice break away from all the heavy things in your life, an escape from the clouds which would roll in steadily, threatening to flood your brain with unwanted emotions.

It was a Saturday, about a week after your arrival, that she finally noticed your lingering sadness.

“You could use a drink,” she muttered, looking you up and down slowly, a strange concern lingering behind her eyes. “There’s a place not too far from here. A little rough, but you get used to it.”

The scoff that left you was unfiltered, not sugarcoating your mocking at the idea. “I ain’t exactly Miss Chicago Social. I’d made shit company, hon. Trust me.” 

She watched as you moved about the shelves, stacking them, reordering the books, and cursing out anyone who moved them under your breath.

“Nobody said you had to be.” She smiled. That damn smile that seemed to rope you into anything. Even if it meant going for a drink you didn’t want but desperately needed.

The bar was everything Kathy had promised it would be: rough, the kind of place you’d avoid. It reeked of smoke, alcohol and something stale you didn’t want to know the source of. The guys inside were worse.

The moment they saw you, they were hooting and hollering, jeering up a storm that was only silenced when you shoved their grabbing, needy hands away from your hips.

“Jesus, are they touch-starved ‘round here?” You whispered, sitting down on one of the chairs, ignoring the way it creaked under you. Unstable. Just like the rest of this place and its occupants.

“Like I said, you’ll get used to it. Or stop caring.” She made it sound so simple, like she knew them too well, and she probably did. Occasionally, she’d exchange greetings with some of them that walked past, leaving you in an awkward silence that felt so much worse than the quiet that would surround you back at your father’s now very empty home.

She was caught up in a conversation with someone when you decided to tolet your gaze wander, raking over every little grimy detail: all dark wood, a jukebox warbling some garbled tune in the corner, the people too loud to even hear the song.

It wasn’t your scene. Not by a long shot. It couldn’t be anyone’s scene unless they were looking for a fight.

You turned to scan the crowd: leather, bold tattoos, loud women and louder men.

The door opened with a groan, its hinges blanketed with rust crying out in protest. You didn't mean to look, but you did.

He stepped in like he'd walked out of an old photograph, everything about him a sharp contrast to the others. He was pretty in a rough sort of way, if that was even possible. He didn't smile or nod. Just strode in with a confidence that radiated like heat from the sun, scanning the room with a focus that was unbreakable.

And then he noticed you.

Not a glance. A look. Long, lingering. Like he was trying to figure out who the hell you were and where the fuck you came from.

"That's Benny Cross." You startled suddenly at the sound of Kathy's voice, cutting through your thoughts and causing your face to heat up. "Don't stare too long. He's not the type to leave things unfinished."

"Is he a regular?"

"He's a vandal. That jacket ain't just a decoration."

It wasn't a direct answer, but it said enough. You turned back to your drink, fingers idly tracing the rim of your glass, which had gone untouched since you'd sat. You kept your eyes down, focused solely on the pattern of the table, the sticky surface, and the grainy wood. You tried to ignore the movement opposite you, tried to ignore the scrape of the empty barstool, and the shift in the air. Leather creaked, and the scent of smoke and cheap cologne hit you.

"You're new," His voice was low, rough in a way that makes your stomach tie itself into knots, butterflies running rampant in your chest.

You didn't look up, not yet. Kathy was silent, watching. "You're not the first to point that out."

He gave a dry chuckle in response, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest, flashing you multiple tattoos which you would gladly observe for hours if you didn't feel so humiliated. "Well, you ain't too good at hiding it."

You look up at that, meeting his eyes, slow and steady. He didn't flinch, didn't flitter or break away. He just stayed observing you, like you were some creature in an exhibit that needed studying.

"D'you always harass strangers like this?"

Benny shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Only the ones that look like they don't belong."

You snorted softly at that, the sound drowned out by the roar of laughter erupting from a nearby table. You picked up your glass, with no true intention of drinking from it, but simply to do something with your hands.

"I'm guessing you didn't come for the ambience." He grunted, and you looked at him again, brows raised.

"No," you replied finally. "Didn't come for much of anything. I was dragged here."

Kathy made an uncommittal noise beside you, and Benny chuckled. "Sure, she meant well."

You merely hummed in response. "I'm sure. She thinks a drink and a conversation are enough to fix a broken heart."

You glanced over at her, eyes begging for her to swoop in and save you, but she just sat silent. Amused. Watching.

"That's what you got? Broken heart?" Benny leaned forward at that, and you nodded.

The scoff you let out wasn't bitter—just empty, tired. "Something like that."

His smirk faded just slightly, enough to let an ounce of sincerity shine through, a small flicker of sorrow easing anything negative you were searching for.

"You got a name?"

You hesitated. Something in the way he asked made it feel heavier than it should. Like it was more than just a way to get to know you. Like his intentions were far from formal.

Still, you gave it to him, whispered softly against the rowdy backdrop.

He repeated it and hummed. "pretty", no leer, no lilt, no mocking. Just pure, unadulterated honesty.

You looked at him again, longer this time, reading the leather, the patches, the scars, and the roughness of his hands. There was a moment, a beat, where the din of the air seemed to fall away. Your eyes didn't stray from his. His didn't either. He didn't smile, but neither did you.

Something passed between you. Unnamed. Unknown.

"You got plans after this, librarian?" Benny leaned forward just enough for you to catch his words and your eyes widening in surprise.

"How did you—"

He smirked and shrugged. "I have my ways."

And at that, you almost cracked a smile.

"I don't have plans," you muttered. "No, really."

"Good," he nodded, finishing off his cigarette in one smooth drag and flicking it aside. "Then I'm walkin' you home."

It wasn't a question.

And against all reason, you didn't tell him now.

[thelaughtercafe]

Heat*

Tea Type: Milk Tea

Potential Triggers: Full nsft in this one! This is honestly just nsft with the barest bit of plot

Pairing: Edward Elric/F!Reader

Length: 1.3k+

Summary: After a heated argument, and an emotional confession, things get passionate in a much more fun way.

“I cannot believe how reckless you are! You could’ve been killed!”

You straightened at the yell, glaring right back at Ed as you crossed your arms, lips pressed in a thin line as he continued scolding you unabated.

“You’ve no place on the battlefield! You have no way to protect yourself; if I hadn’t shown up when I did-”

“Oh but it’s okay when you put yourself at risk every day?”

You angrily rubbed at the tears forming, trying to stay strong.

“I’m sorry I did something stupid and that I scared you but goddamnit at least you know how I feel every time you go charging into battle after battle! I know you’re grateful to Roy for all he did for you and Al but there are other ways to repay him! Every time you sneak out in the morning without saying goodbye and think I don’t hear you when for all I know; it might be the last time I see your stupid face!”

You were openly sniffling now and looked away in embarrassment and annoyance.

Ed was uncharacteristically silent and you suddenly stiffened as his gloved fingers brushed away the last of your tears and he cradled your face, making you look at him. His eyes were still frustrated, but there was something warm just behind them too. Still, his next words made you scowl, however soft they were.

“Promise me you’ll never do something that reckless again.”

“Can you honestly promise me the same?”

He looked down in shame a brief moment before he smiled sadly and shook his head, meeting your gaze again.

“…You know I can’t.”

Your anger was back full force and his hands on you were admittedly making you woozy so you stepped back, out of his intoxicating grip, hating how even that simple touch left you breathless.

Despite the pain that twisted your heart, you knew he was right. You smirked weakly and gave a sarcastic huff of laughter under your breath as you made your way to the door, half mumbling to yourself more than him in your anguish.

“Ha. Leave it to me to fall in love with the most self destructive brat I’ve ever met who doesn’t even drink his stupid milk-”

You flinched as just as you turned the doorknob and went to open it further a hand jerked forward and closed it again, grabbing your wrist with the other hand and flipping you to glare passionately into your gaze.

Your eyes still were teary and his own burned with the weight of his grief and all he had to do but your lips met and abruptly it was as if an inferno was birthed where an unlit match soaked in gasoline had once been.

And oh, did that inferno rage.

Once you began you couldn’t stop.

The kiss you’d craved for so long was insatiable. You couldn’t get enough. The momentary breaks for air felt inconsequential. You didn’t need air, didn’t need anything but the intoxicating, bruising kisses he delivered again and again before his lips abruptly moved to your neck and you moaned, tangling your fingers in his dirty blond locks.

It didn’t take you both long to stumble towards the bed, losing clothes along the way with grumbles and curses and giddy laughter.

It was like your relationship; rough at a first glance but sweet at its core.

A smirk adorned his lips , something primal awakening in him that took you by surprise as he pinned you down with your hand on either side of your face.

“Sure you can handle me sweetheart?”

At your dazed nod he chuckled huskily, head already ducking to heatedly meet your lips again.

“Heh. Who knew all I had to do to shut you up was make you stupid from pleasure.”

Your eyes lit at that and you playfully bit his lip, making him pull back with a hiss.

“Fucking brat.”

Ed didn’t curse often, but suddenly you were glad for it. It had way too much of an effect on you for it to be permitted anywhere but the bedroom. Just for your own sanity.

Despite his rough words and demeanor his hands were feather light as they trailed along your nude body, and you his.

“Maybe later I’ll put that eager mouth of yours to good use, but for now I think I want to make you cum for me.”

His eyes softened a tad and searched yours for any hesitancy.

“…You’re positive you’re ready?”

You softened in reaction and nodded.

“I…I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone but you. It’s always been you, all these years.”

The sweet confession that fell from your lips like honey was enough to make Ed hiss again, rushing to discard his gloves and reveal the warm skin underneath. There was a vulnerability to him showing his bare hands given all he’d done to get them. It was a sign of trust and though you’d seen them before it felt all the more intimate now.

His fingers found your clit quickly once he slid down the bed to make himself comfortable between your spread legs and you found yourself too embarrassed to look. Luckily you didn’t have to for long as you threw your head back in pleasure and moaned.

He was entirely focused on your pleasure, one hand rubbing at your clit and building you up and the other entering you one finger at a time and working to loosen your entrance.

“You have…no right to be so good at this.”

You whimpered out between pants as your fingers clenched the sheets and you arched.

Edward smirked at that and cooed, sweetly.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re close already?”

“What can I say? I’ve f-fantasized about you taking me more times than I can count and it’s even better.”

Your words fed his ego and only encouraged him to hasten his pace, finally making you come undone as you moaned and shook as you released all over his fingers.

“That’s a good girl.”

His sweet praise made you melt as you came down and you finally looked to where he was slipping a condom over his cock. He was a bit bigger than what you assumed was the average, nothing crazy but now that you were prepared you couldn’t help clenching at the thought of how good he’d feel inside you.

Ed couldn’t help himself and moaned at the sight.

“Eager aren’t you?”

You laughed breathlessly as he lined himself up, a playful spark in your eyes.

“Says the man hard as diamonds before even being inside~”

He chuckled and then slowly pushed in, going slow and watching you observantly for any signs of pain. When you showed none and he was in to the hilt he quirked an eyebrow.

“Got another one in you, do you think?”

You nodded, head admittedly feeling hazy from pleasure.

“As many as you can wring from me.”

He inhaled sharply at that and began thrusting, holding your hips steady as he did so and pressing hot, wet kisses wherever his lips could reach.

“Don’t give me any ideas, princess.”

It wasn’t long until you both were close- he just felt so damn snug in the best way possible and your constant clenching and sexy moans had his eyes fluttering. He hugged you close as you both came one after the other. You laid still a moment, both recovering and then he gently pulled out.

You both cleaned up and at the end of it all you were content in his arms as he held you to his chest.

“I know…you get scared when I fight. But if I don’t use my strength for the little guy who will? All I can promise is that I will always return home to you at night.”

You turned in his grip to look up at him.

“You promise?”

He nodded, serious as you’d ever seen him.

“I do.”

“Fine. I love you.”

You sealed it with a kiss and dozed off in one another’s arms.

[inkwitchgames]

Are there any differences between vampire in this world from the vampire we usually know?

Well, there are a LOT of variations in the media so I can't say any of my ideas are unique, but there's some things that stand out in my mind:

Vampires are dead. Technically. But they still function like living human beings. They have to eat, sleep, drink, etc. If they don't, they'll lose weight, they'll become fatigued, they'll get dehydrated. The only difference is that at the point where a human would die, the vampire will not, as long as they have fresh blood in their system. They won't be having a fun time, though.

Blood is the battery of a vampire. They have to keep their bodies alive by stealing the lifeforce from others, since after their death they no longer have a lifeforce of their own. It takes daily blood to stay in good health.

Lifeforce is finite, though. That's why you need to keep drinking. If you stop, your body starts to shut down, bit by bit, returning to its natural state: death.

The tagline of this game is "They say every vampire has a choice when it's reborn. You did not." That choice? Whether to embrace death or a second chance at life.

MC isn't given the choice because they're forced to feed, and once a vampire feeds it becomes impossible not to keep feeding unless they're literally caged with no source of blood. The Blood Haze is FAR too strong; no one has been able to fight against it through sheer willpower alone.

On the topic of blood/lifeforce, it's what fuels all the vampire's 'superhuman' abilities. But vampires in this world are definitely not the overpowered types.

Super speed? Nope. They can run VERY fast, but not beyond what their body would be capable of with the adrenaline pumping, like if they were running for their life. The difference is, they have a lot of control over their body functions to the point where they can kickstart the adrenaline to make them run fast on command. The cost is a fraction of their lifeforce.

Super strength is the same. Those tiny women who pick up cars when their kids are trapped underneath? A vampire can use the blood in their system to trigger that level of strength on command (with practice).

Healing is a bit different. Because of the level of control a vampire has over its own body mixed with the supernatural elements, it goes much further than what a regular human is capable of. Vampires don't scar. They can regrow limbs and organs. They don't age. It requires focus to do it fast, and a whole lot of lifeforce. A vampire who regrows their arm or heals a bullet wound will need to drink blood ASAP afterwards!

To kill a vampire, the ultimate goal is to separate it from a source of lifeforce. The best and most efficient way is to use fire to burn it to ashes. Sunlight is a great alternative method for a slow, torturous death!

Another way is to lock it up and let it slowly return to death. (A lot of the 'old school' vampires preferred this method against their enemies, as a kind of dignified and natural end.) Chopping off its head might not work if there's enough lifeforce there to regrow its body, so it's quite an impractical solution. None of the religious stuff works against them, no stakes to the heart, garlic, running water, or silver bullets, etc.

I've been debating writing a hunter's manual as a side project tbh LOL. A fun way to write vampire lore from an in-universe perspective.

[ninazadzia]

Title: 🩸 If You Hold Me Without Hurting Me Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Yelena Belova Also Featuring: Robert Reynolds | The Sentry Rating: E (18+) Spoilers:Thunderbolts (2025) Word Count (Ch. 1): ~2k AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65393155/chapters/168280408

Summary:

Yelena is supposed to keep Bob stable. Bucky is supposed to keep his distance. Neither of them are doing a very good job.

rampant thunderbolts* spoilers. Inspired by Lana Del Rey’s Cinnamon Girl, which I listened to on a loop while writing this. 10/10 recommend hitting play while reading. ✨💔

--------

part i: bob

--------

there's things I wanna say to you, but I'll just let you live

—Lana Del Rey, *Cinnamon Girl*

--------

We can’t.

I had the words loaded and chambered. Practiced, even.

Bob gave me that look again—the one he’s been giving me more and more lately. The look that says maybe this time, even if it never is.

Usually, I shut it down before we get here. But tonight… I don’t know.

This was the last stop on our New Avengers press tour—a PR-fueled damage control campaign, cooked up by Valentina herself. And for the grand finale, she wanted optics. Flashbulbs. Champagne. A full-on gala, hosted at Avengers Tower.

“It helps us fight the Bargain Bin narrative,” she’d said.

Bargain Bin Avengers. B-Vengers. The press hadn’t exactly been kind—not since Sam filed that lawsuit.

And because perception was everything, Val hadn’t needed to say it out loud. I was to stay close to Bob. Keep him grounded. Presentable. On message.

They didn’t use the word babysit. But that’s what it was.

I was the one he trusted most. The only one he really listened to.

Natasha was to Bruce what I was to Bob. Emotional anchor. Ground wire. Whatever metaphor made it sound less grim.

And most of the time, I was good at it.

But tonight, he looked at me like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor.

And he looked good.

He’d shaved. Put on a real suit. Even combed his hair. I don’t know if it was cologne or just clean skin, but something about him smelled different—sharp, warm, intentional.

And maybe I’d had one too many glasses of bubbly. Maybe I’d gotten a little too used to the way his eyes lingered on me.

Maybe—for once—I didn’t want to carry all the weight alone.

We were the last ones up. Ava had bailed first. Walker wasn’t far behind. Alexei fell asleep mid-rant, slumped sideways on the couch. Bucky made some dry crack about the Soviet serum losing its punch, then hauled him off like it was a chore he didn’t mind doing.

Which left me and Bob. Alone.

And close.

He reached for the champagne.

“Ahh,” I said, lifting a hand.

“What?”

“I’m cut off. Already past my limit.”

Bob hesitated. Then tipped the bottle—not to himself, but toward me.

I shook my head. “Nice try.”

His smile faltered. “Right. Sorry.”

He poured himself a glass anyway. His hands shook slightly—barely enough to notice if you didn’t know him.

I knew him.

“You sure that’s smart?” I asked.

“It’s not meth.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” he said again. “Just… I wanted something to take the edge off.”

I didn’t answer. Just watched him drink.

It wasn’t the first time I’d felt the pull between us, but it was the first time I let myself acknowledge it. The way he looked at me like I mattered. The way his knee brushed mine and didn’t move.

I didn’t want Bob. Not really. Not in the way he wanted me.

But I did want to be wanted. And he did that—wanted me—without apology. Without hesitation.

It made something ache inside me.

His eyes flicked to my lips. My breath caught.

The silence that followed was thick. Not uncomfortable, exactly—just heavy with the weight of whatever we weren’t saying.

Bob glanced at me again, slower this time. Like he was working up to something. Like he was asking a question with his eyes.

I didn’t look away.

And for one reckless second, I thought—what if I just kissed him? Just leaned in and let it happen. Let myself feel wanted. Let him think it meant more than it did.

He looked so soft, tonight. Not just cleaned up—but vulnerable. Hopeful.

But I couldn’t.

Not with everything I knew. Not when I was the thing standing between him and the Void.

He leaned a little closer, and for half a second, I didn’t pull away.

And then—

Footsteps.

Too steady. Too timed.

“Shit, sorry—didn’t realize you were still up.”

Bucky’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. He crossed into the kitchen without looking at us, poured a glass of water, and took his time drinking it.

Casual. Measured. Deliberate.

I’d pulled this move before. Walk in late, look unbothered, kill the mood.

Maybe he was just returning the favor.

He was already halfway across the room, headed to the kitchen like it was a casual water run.

Bob practically teleported to the far end of the couch.

I could still feel his breath on my skin.

Bucky filled a glass, took a sip, and only glanced at us on the way back.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he added dryly.

It was too smooth. Too perfectly timed.

I knew that move. I’d used it myself.

You sly bastard.

Bob was muttering something under his breath, looking at the floor.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to mine—checking. Not asking. Just seeing.

I stood up fast. “I’m heading to bed.”

And just like that, the spell broke.

I didn’t look back. But I knew exactly who was watching me leave.

What the fuck, Yelena.

I’d almost kissed Bob. Bob. Robert Reynolds—the Sentry, the Void. The most powerful human, being, or God recorded in human history. The one person on the team I’d been not-so-explicitly tasked to protect at all costs—and to help avoid emotional distress.

I tried my best not to run down the hall to my room. My hands shook as I ripped my dress off.

“Get a fucking grip, Yelena,” I muttered, like a mantra. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Bob and I had always been close—closer than the other Thunderbolts. I had a soft spot for him. And I knew he knew that. But the more I thought about it—the way he looked at me, the way he always looked at me—I knew he’d felt it too.

That pull, that longing, between us—it was real. But was it mine? Or was I just mirroring it back at him? Letting myself feel wanted, instead of… whatever the hell I actually was.

I threw on the nearest sweatshirt and pants I could find. Shut off the lights. Crawled into bed.

If I could just pretend to sleep, maybe I could pretend I hadn’t almost made the worst mistake of my life.

“We can’t,” I whispered to myself.

Even though the thought alone made me wet. Even though I could still feel his breath against my lips, his suit against my skin.

But I didn’t want Bob. Not in the way I wanted to be wanted. Not in the way I…

God. Why was Bucky always the one who showed up at the exact wrong moment?

Or maybe—the exact right one.

I slipped my fingers between my thighs. The pressure hit fast—hot, desperate. “We can’t,” I whispered again, as I teased the edge of my clit.

I’d fleetingly had this fantasy before—but it wasn’t like I’d ever acted on it. Not really. Not until now.

I imagined his head between my legs. His mouth. His hands. The weight of his body, holding me in place.

My thighs trembled. Breath caught. I was so close—

—and then the door creaked open.

I didn’t even have time to yank the blanket up.

“Shit—”

He turned fast—too fast. Hand up over his eyes like it could erase what he’d just seen.

“I—I knocked,” Bucky stammered, mortified. “I should’ve knocked louder. I didn’t think—fuck, I’m sorry.”

His voice cracked with it—panic, embarrassment, regret.

“You always check on people like this?” I managed, breathless, yanking the blanket up over my hips.

“You said you were going to bed. I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Clearly.”

He froze in the doorway, still turned away. His hand stayed over his face like I might combust on contact.

“Bucky.”

My voice came out quieter than I meant.

He turned, cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if it was a trap.

“For what it’s worth,” I said, voice low but steady, “this wasn’t… a regular thing.”

His mouth twitched. He didn’t quite meet my eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on it. You just… caught me on a weird night.” I shrugged, folding my arms. “Can’t blame a girl for having urges.”

That got a reaction—barely. The ghost of a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Especially when we’re all playing pretend half the time,” I added. “Like we’re not human.”

He was quiet for a beat. And then—

“You’re not the only one with urges.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. His posture went rigid the second they landed.

“What?” I said, blinking.

“And you’re not the only person on this team who wants someone they can’t have,” he added, softer, almost like it hurt.

Silence.

His eyes widened just slightly, like he’d only just realized he’d said it out loud.

“Shit,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“That sounded… personal,” I said, cautious now.

“I should go,” he said quickly, already turning.

“Bucky—”

“Forget I said anything.”

“That’s gonna be hard.”

His hand gripped the doorknob like it was an anchor.

“Sleep well,” he said.

And then he was gone.

[gassyandnasty]

The Jock Formula

Andrew was a nerd with all the stereotypes: glasses, slicked back hair, and looked like his mother dressed him everyday. He wanted to change but his arms were to frail to heavy lift, and his chicken legs barely supported his weight.

His friends shared the same problem, since they were the only guys Andrew could hang out. The jocks, popular girls, even the 'woke' group ignored them, they were sick and tired that the high grades and even helping people with exams wasn't paying off.

"What I like to call the "Jock Formula" is ready. I had to sneak into the locker room after P.E yesterday to collect the last ingredient: a drop of the nastiest sweat. I almost got beaten off by Josh, but I managed to collect one." Said George.

Andrew wasn't a top tier nerd cause George existed. Slicked back hair, glasses, braces, and his mother ACTUALLY dressed him. But Andrew was very interested in the topic this time.

"The only thing is that I didn't test yet" George states.

"We can clearly see." Jokes Andrew, getting some laugh by his other friends.

"Always making jokes, Andrew, but this time I think we can get some real results, the only thing is that this flasc contains the amount of ingredients needed only for one person. But its too risky." George says calculating.

"I see, well... you should stop with those experiments, I can only see that flasc giving you explosive diarrhea." Andrew states, getting more laugh.

"Give me some credit, Andrew, what if it works?" George ignores the joke and continues "This experiment could change lives."

"I believe in your potions, only that I don't want anyone turning into frogs. Leave that here so I can help you with the research, so that we don't leave any risk." Andrew says.

"You are right, two heads think better than one." George says, leaving the flasc with Andrew.

All came to plan. Andrew knew that George was brilliant enough to create something like that, but only for one person? He couldn't lose the chance, the ingredients were too hard to find, and what could ensure him that George would drink that first and leave them alone after? The first test should be him, and ignoring all risks, Andrew chugged it down with no remorse, nothing could be worse as being doomed as a whimp his whole life.

Indeed, that flasc got him feeling ill, and he passed out.

Waking up the next day, Andrew thought that all was a fevre dream, and felt guilty of ruining George's work by drinking it, but when he looked in the mirror, shock covered his face:

He got taller, stronger and manlier. Big biceps pumped as he flexed, his pectorals were now defined, his abs covered his ex-skinny tummy, followed by huge muscular thighs, and when he turned around: BAM! A toned and plump ass to go with it.

"Wow... it worked!" Andrew exclaimed and got surprised that even his voice was deeper now, he couldn't wait to get to the campus and show the results!

His clothes weren't fitting now, but all he needed was his pair of large blue shirts he had, that were not so large right now, since it outlined every curve of his legs now. Now that any shirt fit him, he decided to go without it, and display his huge pecs to everyone.

This time, everybody was looking at him, people that never glanced an eye before were now oogling at his muscles, and the first guys to greet him today were not his group of nerds, but the members of the manliest frat on the campus.

"Hey, dude, are you new here?" asked Josh, while Andre was too stunned to speak.

"Y-yeah...I" Andrew was about to answer when he was cut by George exclaming: "ANDREW?"

"Andrew? Why is that guy referring to you? Are you going to hang out with those losers?" Josh asks.

And something shifted on Andrew, now he had a reputation, the team's captain greeting him, chicks trying to sneak their numbers on his backpack. Josh was right, he couldn't hang out with those losers anymore.

"Who the hell is Andrew, whimp?" he asks with his now booming and intimidating voice.

George shakes and say "It worked, Andrew! Why don't you-"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRPRRPRPRPPPPPPPP

As George was speaking, Andrew decided to cut him with a nasty and loud belch, it roared out of his mouth, right on George's face.

Josh and his friend high-fived Andrew, while George gagged with the manly smell.

"It's Drew now, loser" the new jock worked up a huge wad of spit and fired on George's face, while he looked up at him with betrayal on his eyes, almost crying.

"Nice, dude! You owned him" Josh says. "Don't you want to sign up to the frat?"

"Damn right" Drew said as his belly rumbled. "Wait, one more thing." He grabbed the back of George's head and shoved into his ass, he lifted one leg to put on a show, and managed to rip a loud and very deep fart on his face.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

That made everyone around laugh and clap to the new 'alpha' of the campus, as they left the nerd there gagging for fresh air.