#so! she says ‘hey why don’t you try it? if you like it you can have it!’ so I do! and it dawns on me. this is the SAME jacket

[cherryblossom-heart]

I hate you (9.5/?)

modern!Sukuna x Reader

Things get clearer for Sukuna

Content Warning: Fluff, Enemies to lovers, Sukuna being nice? (if you can call it that) Sukuna is his own warning, mention of sexual content, slut shaming (both sides). Sukuna battling his feelings. This is a +18 series so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If I catch any minor or ageless blog interacting with this series I will block you.

W.C. 2.6.K

A/N: Hi besties! I am so sorry for the delay on this chapter, memi messed up my convos for other series and this one too so I was just busy re doing everything again. Hope you guys like it! Oh btw I listened Mitskis' My Love Mine All Mine on repeat while writing this in case you want to give it a try haha

<Previous Chapter. Next Chapter>

7:17 P.M.

“Finally.” Sukuna rolled his eyes as you walked to him. “Taking forever, for what?”

“Oh, shut up. Like you don’t like what you see.” You winked at him.

A faint wave of heat rushed to his face and he wanted to ride away. Even if he had gotten used to this unexpected reaction, they didn’t make them any less annoying. He wasn’t about to admit he knew that even if you were wearing a garbage bag as a dress, his heart would still race any time you came through that door.

He remembered his cousin laughing once he told him he would take you to that stupid bands concert and asked him if he would cover your shift.

“So you’re telling me you’re taking her to a concert, of a band you don’t even like, just because?” Choso’s words were strained as he fought to get air back to his lungs.

Sukunas patience was running thin, not that it was hard to get it to that level to begin with, but the more Choso’s words bounced around his head, the more he questioned what the point of this was.

Why was he even taking you? He couldn’t even stand their music.

“You’re covering her shift or not?” Sukuna barked, which typically was enough to make people around him quiet. Unluckily for him, Choso didn’t hold the same fear for him as others, it didn’t help him, and Sukuna knew each other since they were in diapers.

“Oh, I’ll definitely take it. But you just have to answer one question.” His voice was full of amusement as he hung an arm around Sukuna. “How long has she had you this whipped?”

“Fuck you.” He shook off his arm of his shoulders.

Whatever, taking you wasn’t worth this hassle.

Or any hassle at all.

Maybe he could talk to Toji. Cash in a favor.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong. If anyone was going to be able to tame you, it definitely would be her.” Choso laughed.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’ve seen her right? Girls got a little crazy in her. Remember that time she beat up that Yorozu chick for saying all that fucked up shit about Uraume?”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow “What?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were too busy to go to school. I’m surprised you even graduated.” Choso rolled his eyes, pulling out a cigarette from the carton he kept in his pocket, a habit he displayed whenever he talked for too long with his cousin. “After their mom died, Yorozu began the rumor Uraume fucked people to get money to pay the rent, that’s why they were never in school.”

That cunt.

Sukunas memories traveled back to his teenage years, he remembered a day where he had found you in the living room, your messy hair and a busted lip catching his attention. He had made the mistake of leaving you alone, thinking he didn’t care enough to ask.

And you didn’t like him enough to answer.

“Then one day your girl comes in, walks to Yorozu and sucker punches her right in the jaw. No warning, nothing. By the time the teachers were able to pull her off Yorozu, she already had a broken nose and her whole face was turning purple. I’ve never seen anything like that, I really thought she was going to kill her.” Choso shook his head. “Maybe you finally found your match”

His cousins’ words tormented his thoughts ever since.

God, he was right, wasn’t he? He was completely and utterly whipped. He didn’t remember the last time he had fucked someone else without you popping in his head every five seconds. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last day he had gone through without thinking of you at least once.

“What’s that?” You asked as you reached him, looking back to the hand he has behind his back.

Fuck.

“Here.” Sukuna pulled out a bouquet of deep red roses, almost slamming them against you. “Jin said I should bring this.” He scoffed, as if he wasn’t the one that decided to buy them.

“Aww.” You coo at them as you smell them. Sukuna’s eyes diverted from you, not wanting that brewing warm sensation you brought him to pop up, this was already hard enough as it was. “I love them. Maybe I should’ve gone out with Jin instead.” You teased him with that cocky little smirk that made his blood boil.

“I’m taking you out on a stupid date and you can’t stop being a slut for five minutes?” Sukuna rolled his eyes.

He expected to get a snarky remark, perhaps a slap in the arm or head but you had the annoying tendency to surprise him. You leaned over to him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek before walking backwards to your house.

His heart began racing. The drumming of his pulse echoed on his ears so loudly he thought you might’ve heard it.

“Don’t be an ass, you know I have more fun with you.” You winked at him before turning around.

“Where you going?” Were the only words he managed to say.

“To put them in a vase. Don’t want them dying on me, this might be the only proof of you ever being nice.”

Darkened eyes followed your every step, each one giving Sukuna a clear answer.

He was losing his mind, and it was all your fault.

8:21 P.M.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked as you hopped of his bike, pulling down on the now inconvenient black skirt you had decided to wear.

“Piss me off enough and I might.”

��Whatever.” You glared at him, kicking a rock in the ground. “If you’re not going to kill me then what are we doing in the middle of the woods?”

“What? You scared, brat?”

You laughed. “As if. I’m more scared of an animal eating us. If a bear attacks us, I’m leaving your ass.”

Sukuna made his way through the path he had grown accustomed to, the sound of your heels scraping against the unstable ground the woods offered following close behind. He could hear you cursing under your breath, your annoyance growing the more you kept tripping.

“You could’ve told me we were going to the fucking woods.”

“Not my fault you dress like a cheap prostitute whenever you’re going out.”

“First of all, fuck you.” You caught up to him, slapping him in the back of the head. “Second, if I was a prostitute, you could never afford me.”

Sukuna held you by the arm, spinning you in front of him. His chest pressed against your back; his grip tight on your hips. He leaned over you, lips almost brushing against your ear.

“Why would I pay you when I already have you for free.”

“For now.” You turned around. “Piss me off enough and I might just change boytoys.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek before moving along and Sukuna never wished more to fuck you and strangle you at the same time.

8:29 P.M.

“Over here.”

“I swear if you brought me all the way over here for nothing I will cut your balls– “

“Hey.”

Jin’s voice cut through the emptiness of the forest making you jump. You turned to the direction of his voice, racing to Sukunas twin brother. It never ceased to amaze you how similar they were physically, but as soon as your eyes connected with Jin’s the softness in them almost made you chuckle.

“Jin!” You raced to him, engulfing him in a suffocating hug. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been busy with Yuji.”

Jin’s eyes met his brothers as he debated where to settle his hands. Sukunas burning gaze gave him the answer he needed.

“What are you doing here? Please tell me you’re my date instead of your idiot of a brother.” You teased him, causing a slight blush on his face. “You’re already much better than him. The flowers were a nice touch.”

“Flowers? I didn’t… oh. Oh! Yeah, no problem.”

Sukuna was about to turn Yuji into an orphan.

“I was just helping him set this up.” Jin pointed behind himself,

Your eyes grew wide as you took in what your date would be. In the middle of the field laid a lightweight red blanket, a couple of lanterns on each side made it visible. Laid out in the middle there were a few containers with what you assumed were food, steam covering the inside.

You smiled at Sukuna, and he could’ve sworn his world stopped for a second.

“It was his idea.” He grunted, hoping his brother would take the hint.

“Yeah, I thought you would like it.”

You stared back at Sukuna for a second longer, a playful glint on your eyes, before you turned around and hugged Jin again.

“You’re so sweet, thank you.” You placed a small kiss on his cheek, your lipstick tainting his skin. “Maybe you should stay, and we’ll ditch your brother.”

“I– “

“He’s leaving. Now.”

“Bye, Jin!”

Sukuna dragged his brother, pulling him to the main road that led back to the parking lot. He took out his keys, throwing them to Jin before snatching away his brother’s car keys.

“If there’s a scratch on her I’ll fucking kill you, you understand?” Sukuna warned his brother.

“Yeah.” His brother cleared his throat, making sure they were at a safe distance from you. “You know, it’s not the worst thing in the world if you do like her. She’s always been nice.”

Nice wouldn’t be the word that Sukuna would use to describe you.

“Whatever, just don’t crash my fucking bike.”

“I won’t.” Before turning away Jin called for your attention, his arm waving in the air. “You’re coming to Yuji’s birthday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

After one last menacing look from his older brother, Jin finally left. Sukuna had made a mental note of reminding Jin who the older brother was, even if it was just for a few minutes of difference.

“So, a picnic huh?” You teased and Sukuna wanted the earth to collapse right there and then.

“Jin’s idea.” He shrugged, grabbing a can of beer from the ground.

You sat down, crossing your legs in front of you as you settled down. “Oh yeah, it was his idea? Just like the flowers you got me?”

“Shut up.”

Why did he agree to this in the first place?

9:23 P.M

“... then all of the sudden Uraume bolts in the room and grabs me from the back of the neck, tossing me to the floor and I’m thinking ‘this is it, my life is about to end at thirteen all because I wanted to use a stupid pair of boots that stink and aren’t even that great’. Before they could even put a hand on me, I hooked my feet in the back of their leg and Uraume just straight up just collapses.”

“No fucking way you got them like that.” Sukuna half scoffed, half laughed, shaking his head at the thought of you overpowering Uraume.

As if.

You shoved him playfully. “I swear on my life, I don’t know why but that’s their Achilles point. Well, more like knee but you know what I mean.”

“So, you’re telling me you did the same thing to get them to back off my dick?”

“Pretty much.” You shrug. “I got on top of them, coughed up some phlegm and threatened them to get it on their face if they didn’t stop.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.” Sukuna laughed, his stomach hurting from the laughter the mental image of Uraume being defenseless brought to him. “No wonder they didn’t fucking told me what you did.”

“Let’s keep it a secret between us, pretty boy.”

“Fuck off, I told you not to call me that.”

You turned to him, eyelids half open as the alcohol relaxed your body. “But you are my pretty boy.”

That damn smirk made him want to choke you.

And kiss you.

“Tell me something.” You took another sip of your beer, a small drop falling from the corner of your lips. “Why are you doing all this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

The question of the year. Why do all this? Why put any effort behind this? Why did the thought of another man touching brought an anger in him he couldn’t explain? Why did he care about you? Why did the thought of spending time with you made his heart race? Why did your touch bring a tenderness in him he wasn’t aware of its existence before?

He had no idea, yet he craved you with everything in him.

“I don’t know. Just trying to see what happens.” He grunted, his nonchalance being his refuge when he couldn’t even explain it to himself.

“Uh huh.” Unconvinced by his words, you moved closer to him, your arm almost touching his. “Wanna know what I think.”

“Not really.”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

Sukuna scoffed

“You wish.”

“And I think you want to date me.”

“Shut the fuck off.”

“And you want to know the worst part about it?”

You laid down on the floor, your eyes focused on the starts above you.

“What?”

You sighed. “I think I might want to date you too.”

Sukunas head snapped to you.

“I know, crazy.” You let out a small laugh, as if you were just now coming to that realization. “You’re violent, obnoxious, immature, selfish, a sociopath at times, a bigger slut than I am, you have a terrible way of dealing with things, at times I really wish I could strangle you so I would never have to see you again. And yet… I still like you. Enough to try at least.”

I still like you.

The words bounced around his brain as he tried to make sense of them. He knew what he was supposed to do, he should push back. Deny every crazy allegation, go deeper into the reasons why he would never like you, tell you about every logical point on why he could never date you. Your fear of relationship, your extensive list of sexual partners, the fact that you drove him insane and the fact that only you could enact so much rage off him with just a couple of looks.

He hated you.

He hated the way you made him feel.

He hated the space you had taken over in his thoughts.

He hated the space you had carved in his heart.

He hated everything about you but lately he couldn’t remember why he had started to hate you in the first place.

“God, I fucking hate you.” He said as he laid down with you, the toughness of the ground aligning his back.

You chuckled. “Ditto.”

Your hand found his, fingers entwining with his.

Sukunas eyes stayed on you, watching you admire the night sky. He could see every movement you made, the way your eyes focused on following the chain of stars, trying to find sense in the constellations up in the sky.

And right there and then, with the moonlight hitting your skin, Sukuna thought he never saw anything more beautiful.

His hands moved faster than he could control them, pulling your face to look at him. Your eyes widened in surprise, and he wondered if you could feel the same warmth he felt whenever he touched you. Judging the way your eyes softened, he thought you did.

His hand traveled to your neck, his fingertips barely connecting with your skin. Your eyes darkened, traveling back and forth from his lips back to his irises and Sukuna knew he was screwed.

He truly did like you.

Fuck, he might even…

No, he could only deal with one catastrophic realization a day. That could wait.

At least until tomorrow, when his mind and soul were stronger to fight of the truth.

<Previous Chapter. Next Chapter>

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[rootedinrevisions]

Juice Boxes & Bedtime Stories

Summary: When a last minute babysitter cancellation forces you to leave your little girl in the hands of Lt Jake Seresin, you return home later expecting chaos. Instead you find warmth, laughter, and a glimpse of a future you never thought possible. 

Warnings: Mentions of Partner Loss (implied death but undefined)

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Based on the Superbowl Commercial Glen is doing for Ram. Gif credit goes to @kaizsche (the BEST blog for gifs!)

The soft clatter of toys echoed through the living room as you adjusted the strap of your dress, glancing up just in time to see your daughter wrapped in a fluffy blanket like a burrito pouting from her spot on the couch.

“But why do you have to go, Mommy?” she whined, dramatically flopping onto her side. “I want to have a movie night with you and Jakey!”

A chuckle rumbled from across the room. “Jakey, huh?” Jake stood near the kitchen, arms crossed, grinning in amusement at his new nickname.

Your daughter giggled, momentarily distracted from her sulking.

You stood, smoothing your dress with a smile. “Sweetheart, I won’t be gone long. And the babysitter is super fun, remember? She said she’d even bring that princess coloring book you love.”

“But what about my bedtime story! You always read me my story! And she always forget!” Your daughter pouted, lips pursed.

Jake immediately stepped in to try and help. He made his way over to her and crouched beside her, tapping her nose lightly. “Tell you what, kiddo. While your mom finishes getting all fancy, how ‘bout we build the biggest pillow fort ever?”

Her eyes lit up. “Bigger than last time?”

Jake smirked. “Way bigger.”

That was enough to pull her attention away. As she scrambled off the couch to start gathering pillows, you mouthed a thank you to Jake before slipping down the hall to your bedroom.

You grabbed your earrings and slid them into place as you took one last glance in the mirror. You didn’t get nights like this often. Time to be you, and not just "Mommy." 

You reached for your phone to check the time when a notification popped up. Babysitter: Hey, I am so, so sorry, but I have to cancel tonight. I’ve been feeling kind of sick all day and don’t want you guys to get it!.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered to yourself. You immediately dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail.

Okay. No big deal. You had other options. You scrolled through your contacts, calling the first backup. No answer. The next one was busy. One by one, your already limited options dwindled, and by the time you lowered your phone, a sigh slipped from your lips. There it was. Your long-awaited girls' night, slipping through your fingers.

You took a breath, pressing your fingers to your temple. Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” You turned to find Jake leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that familiar cocky tilt of his head.

You closed the distance between the two of you, stepping into his space and wrapping your arms around his torso. The moment your head fell against his chest his hands slid down your back resting there with a comforting squeeze.

He didn’t say anything at first, just held you. Let you take a second to breathe.

You let out a long sigh. “The babysitter cancelled.”

You felt Jake shift, glancing down at you. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Not ideal, but not the end of the world.”

“I called my backups. No one’s free.”

“Ah.” He nodded, like the picture was coming together. “So, what? You’re canceling your night?”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, frustration flickering behind your eyes. “I mean, what else can I do? I can’t leave her here alone and I can’t take her with me.”

Jake’s response was instant, casual, like it was the simplest solution in the world. “I’ll watch her.”

You blinked. “What?”

He smirked. “I’ll stay. You go.”

You froze for a moment. You and Jake had been together for about six months now. And you had introduced them about a month ago. He was great with your daughter. He was sweet, playful, and patient in ways you hadn’t expected. But he’d never been alone with her before. And this was a whole night. Dinner, getting her ready for bed…

Jake must have noticed your hesitation because he let out a chuckle, squeezing your waist. “Come on, sweetheart. I can handle a tiny human for a few hours. How hard can it be?”

Before you could answer, the sound of little feet against the hardwood interrupted. You turned just as your daughter skidded into the doorway, her eyes wide with excitement.

“You’re staying with me, Jakey?!”

Jake grinned down at her. “If your mom says it’s okay.”

She gasped, spinning back to you. “Mommy! Please let him! Please, please, pleeeease?” She was practically bouncing on her toes, hands clasped under her chin like she was making the biggest wish in the world.

Jake arched a brow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Well?”

You let out a slow breath, scanning his face. He looked so confident, so sure of himself. Your daughter adored him. And deep down, you knew you could trust him.

Still, you leveled him with a serious look. “Alright. But there are rules.”

Jake smirked. “Hit me.”

You started ticking things off on your fingers. “Bedtime is at eight. No more than one juice box. Snacks are in the pantry, but no chocolate after six.”

Jake held a hand over his heart. “Got it.”

You pointed toward the fridge. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. If anything happens—”

Jake cut you off with a cocky little grin. “I’ll call you. But we’ll be just fine.” He leaned in, pressing a quick, warm kiss to your forehead before nudging you toward the door. “Go have fun, mama.”

Your daughter squealed, throwing her arms around Jake’s leg. “This is gonna be the best night ever!”

Jake laughed, ruffling her hair. “That’s what I like to hear, kiddo.”

And as you grabbed your purse and slipped on your coat, you couldn’t help but smile.

JAKE’S P.O.V.

A little later Jake leaned against the kitchen counter arms crossed, watching as your daughter stood on her tiptoes to peer into the fridge.

"Alright, kiddo. What sounds good for dinner?"

She spun around, her face scrunched in deep thought. “Mac and cheese.”

“Solid choice.” He nodded as he turned towards the pantry to go find the box of Kraft. “Anything else?”

A beat of silence. Then, with a completely straight face, she added, “With ketchup.”

Jake blinked. “With what now?”

“Ketchup,” she repeated, like it was the most normal thing in the world. She got the ketchup bottle out of the fridge and held it up like it was a trophy.

He squinted at her. “Is that good?”

She giggled. “Duh.”

Jake sighed running a hand down his face. “Alright, but if this is some kind of prank, I’m calling your mom.”

She gasped, clutching her chest like he’d just betrayed her. “No! You can’t tell Mommy.”

Jake smirked. “Why not?”

“Because…” She glanced around like she was about to spill classified intel. Then she leaned in, whispering, “She thinks it’s gross.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Kid, I gotta be honest…she might be onto something.”

Your daughter gave him an unimpressed look. “Just try it.”

He sighed dramatically, pushing off the counter. “Fine, but if it tastes bad, I’m making you eat all of it.”

She beamed, already climbing onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Deal!”

Jake got to work, boiling the pasta while she chattered away about everything that had been going on at preschool.

When the mac and cheese was ready, Jake slid a bowl in front of her, watching as she enthusiastically squeezed ketchup right on top. He tried not to wince.

“Try it Jakey!” She grinned, pushing the bowl toward him.

Jake hesitated, then took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. And, to his surprise, it… wasn’t terrible.

Still, he scrunched his nose for dramatic effect. “Alright, I admit it’s…okay.”

She clapped. “Told you!”

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Alright, alright. You win this round.”

As she happily dug into her dinner she grabbed her juice box and started slurping away. Within minutes, it was empty. She held it up, shaking it a little. 

Then, with the sweetest voice she could muster, she turned to Jake. “Jakey…Can I have another one?”

Jake leaned on the counter, arching a brow. “What’s the rule?”

She pouted. “One juice box.”

He smirked. “Mm-hmm.”

A pause. Then, she tried again with big, pleading eyes, bottom lip slightly pushed out.

Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Kid, that’s cheating.”

She didn’t answer. Just kept looking at him with those ridiculously cute eyes. The ones that were just like her mama’s.

Jake groaned, rubbing his temples. With a sigh of defeat, he grabbed another juice box from the fridge and slid it toward her.

She gasped, grinning. “Really?!”

He held up a finger. “On one condition.”

She nodded eagerly. “Anything!”

Jake lowered his voice like it was a top-secret mission. “This stays between us. Don't tell your mom or I'll be in big trouble.”

Your daughter’s eyes went wide. Then she grinned, holding out her tiny pinky. “Pinky promise.”

Jake smirked, locking his pinky around hers. “Pleasure doing business with you, kiddo.”

She giggled, grabbing the juice box and sipping it like it was the best secret in the world.

And Jake? Yeah, he was pretty sure he was screwed. Because this kid? She already had him wrapped around her little finger.

A while later it was 7:50, and Jake was starting to realize your daughter was a master at stalling.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Bedtime’s at eight. You ready to hop in?”

She gasped dramatically. “But I need water!”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you just have a juice box?”

“Yes, but juice doesn’t count. I need water.”

With a sigh, Jake grabbed her cup from the nightstand and trudged to the kitchen. When he returned, she took the smallest possible sip before setting it down.

“Okay, now you’re ready for bed?” he asked.

She shook her head solemnly. “I can’t sleep without my stuffy.”

Jake looked around. “It’s right there.” He pointed to the pink rabbit sitting by her pillow.

She frowned. “No, not that one.”

He sighed, hands on his hips. “Alright. Which one are we talking about?”

Her brows scrunched in concentration. Then she pointed. “That one.”

Jake turned to where at least ten stuffed animals were piled in a corner. He groaned. “Kid, you got options. Just pick one.”

She hummed in thought, tapping her chin. “Mmm… maybe the bear.”

Jake grabbed the bear.

“No, wait! The unicorn.”

Jake grabbed the unicorn.

“…Actually, the bear and the unicorn.”

Jake huffed, tossing both onto the bed. “Alright, final answer?”

She nodded, satisfied, and finally scooted under the covers.

He checked the time. 7:55. Not bad.

With a sigh of victory, he sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing the book she’d picked.

“Alright, let’s do this. The Very Cranky Bear.” He opened to the first page. “In the Jingle Jangle Jungle on a cold and rainy day…”

He barely got through the first sentence before she giggled.

Jake frowned. “What?”

“You’re doing it wrong,” she said.

“…Doing what wrong?”

“The voices!” She gave him an expectant look. “You have to do the voices.”

Jake blinked. “There are voices?”

She nodded like this was common knowledge. “Duh.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Kid, I don’t do voices.”

She gasped, sitting up. “But that’s the best part!”

Jake huffed, glancing at the book. “Alright, alright. Show me how it’s done.”

She cleared her throat, then dramatically deepened her voice. “‘GRRRR!’ roared the bear!”

Jake arched a brow. “Okay, that was solid.”

She beamed. “Now you try.”

Jake rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and attempted his best bear voice.

“GRRRR!”

Your daughter giggled, but then shook her head. “Hmm. That was… okay.”

Jake scoffed. “Okay?”

She shrugged. “It could be scarier.”

Jake groaned. “Tough crowd.”

She giggled again, flopping back onto her pillow. “Keep going.”

YOUR P.O.V.

Stepping into the house, you braced yourself for the worst. Maybe some crayon drawings on the walls, a kitchen disaster, or maybe even Jake waving a white flag of surrender.

But instead, as you kicked off your heels and followed the soft murmur of voices, you were met with something entirely unexpected.

Leaning against the doorframe of your daughter’s room, you found Jake perched on the edge of her bed, actually reading her bedtime story.

Well, trying to.

Your daughter’s arms were crossed as she huffed dramatically. “Jake isn’t doing the voices right!”

Biting back a laugh, you stepped inside. “Oh no. That bad?”

Jake scoffed. “Excuse me, I think I was nailing it.”

Your daughter shook her head, clearly unimpressed. “The bear is supposed to sound grumpy!”

Jake shot you a look. “She’s a brutal critic.”

Grinning, you slid onto the bed beside them, gently plucking the book from his hands. “Alright, let me show you how it’s done.”

Jake sighed in mock defeat, leaning back against the headboard. “Please do.”

As you started reading your daughter snuggled into your side, eyes drooping with sleep. What surprised you though, was Jake—his arm rested lazily around your daughter’s tiny frame, fingers idly playing with the end of her blanket. He looked so at ease, so comfortable with her.

You stole a glance at him between sentences, your heart doing something warm and ridiculous in your chest.

This was Jake Seresin, the cocky, self-assured aviator. The man who walked like he owned the world, who threw out one-liners like they were effortless. And yet, here he was, cuddling a sleepy four year old like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your chest tightened, something deep and achingly fond settling in your bones.

By the time you finished the story, your daughter was barely awake. You kissed her forehead, tucking the blanket securely around her. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Jake ruffled her hair gently. “Night, kiddo.”

Just as you both stood to leave, your daughter’s sleepy voice piped up.

“Mommy…you forgot to give Jake a goodnight kiss.”

You froze.

That smug grin spread across Jake's face as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly relishing this moment.

Your face burned. “Oh. Uh—”

Your daughter blinked up at you expectantly. “What if he has a nightmare cause you didn’t give him a goodnight kiss?”

Jake, ever the menace, tilted his head. “Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t want me to have a nightmare.”

You shot him a glare before huffing out a laugh. Cocky bastard.

With your heart pounding far too fast for such a simple thing, you leaned up on your toes and pressed a quick, feather light kiss to his cheek.

Jake’s smirk softened, eyes warm as he murmured, “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”

Then with a hand at the small of your back, he guided you out of the room shutting the door behind you. The second your daughter’s door clicked shut, you exhaled, pressing your back against the hallway wall. Your heart was still beating faster than it had any right to.

Jake smirked, hands sliding into his pockets as he leaned against the opposite wall. “So, how’d I do?”

You gave him a teasing smile. “Well, given that there are two empty ones on the counter I think you caved and gave my child a second juice box, let her stall bedtime for as long as humanly possible, and butchered the voices in the bedtime story.”

Jake chuckled, completely unrepentant. “Okay, but I got her fed, kept her happy, and had her in bed by eight on the dot.” He arched a brow. “I’d say that earns me at least a B-plus.”

You hummed, pretending to consider. “Fine. Solid B-plus. Maybe even an A-minus.”

Jake grinned, stepping closer, his voice dropping to that lower range that always made your breath catch. “Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking me up, and I might start thinking I’m the favorite around here.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. With a shake of your head, you pushed off the wall, heading toward the kitchen. “Come on. You at least earned a beer.”

Jake followed easily, eyes twinkling with amusement. “See, now that is a reward I can get behind.”

You grabbed two beers from the fridge, passing him one as you both leaned against the counter.

For a moment, there was only the quiet hum of the house around you. It was a different kind of silence than you were used to. Comfortable. Familiar. Easy.

Jake took a sip of his beer, then glanced at you, something softer in his gaze now. “You know,” he said, voice thoughtful, “tonight wasn’t so bad. She’s a good kid.”

Your chest tightened, that warmth curling deeper. “Yeah,” you murmured. “She is.”

And then, before you could stop it, your mind drifted. To the past. To him. To the man you thought you’d spend your life with. The man who had held your daughter when she was just minutes old, who had whispered promises into her tiny ear, who had loved her with everything he had.

The ache in your heart was always there. Some days it was dull, a quiet hum in the background. Other days it was sharper, catching you off guard when you least expected it.

For so long, you’d feared that no one would ever be able to step into that space he left behind. That no one could ever love your daughter the way he had.

But tonight seemed like something changed. Just a little. Because Jake hadn’t just stepped in. He hadn’t just babysat or kept her entertained.

He had been there. Patient and warm and soft in all the ways you hadn’t expected. He’d let her win their little battles, humored her bedtime stalling, and held her close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t the same. It never could be. But maybe he could be something else for you and your daughter. Something just as important.

Jake set his beer down, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I meant what I said earlier,” he admitted. “I can handle a tiny human for a few hours. I’d do it again for you.”

Your grip tightened around your bottle as you looked up at him, searching his face. “You would?”

Jake’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “Yeah.” He smirked a little. “Even if she is a tough bedtime critic.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but there was something else behind it. Something more.

Jake tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing just a fraction. He wasn’t smiling anymore, not like before. He could sense it. The shift in you, the way your thoughts had pulled you somewhere else. But he didn’t push.

He just reached for you, his fingers curling lightly around your wrist before sliding up to tangle with yours. He gave your hand a small squeeze. And that was all it took.

A shaky breath slipped from your lips as you let yourself lean into him, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. Jake didn’t say a word. He held you. He was solid and warm with one hand pressed against the small of your back.

For the first time in a long time, the ache in your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy. It didn’t disappear. It never would. But standing there in Jake’s arms feeling the quiet steadiness of him, you thought maybe you didn’t have to carry it alone anymore.

Jake pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something softer, something real.

“What?” He murmured.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. This was him choosing to be here. Choosing you. Choosing her. And maybe you weren’t ready to unpack all of that just yet, but standing here in your kitchen, with Jake Seresin drinking a beer and telling you he’d do it all over again?

Yeah. You could feel yourself falling. Hard.

But before he could press you on it, you took a step closer and pressed another kiss to his cheek, slower this time. Your lips lingering just a second longer.

When you pulled back Jake was watching you with something unreadable in his expression. Something softer than his usual bravado.

Then, ever so quietly, he murmured, “A-minus, huh?”

You laughed, swatting his chest as you turned away. “Drink your beer, Seresin.”

And as he chuckled, taking another sip, you had the distinct feeling that tonight was just the beginning of something much bigger.

Something that, for once, you weren’t afraid of.

[devixncy]

Could you do a Thanos fic with a sweetheart reader. Just her being kind and talkative to everyone, and him supporting her: but also acting as a bodyguard and keeping anyone from taking advantage of her kindness. 

a/n: loooved this request, kinda hate how this turned out tho but i was writing this off of nyquil and whatever braincells i have left

✧ pairing: thanos/choi su-bong x sweetheart!reader

✧ content: fem reader implied, probably (def) ooc thanos, brief mention of drugs/alcohol/sex, mention of the games but deviates from the story line, basically post squid game au, swearing, tiny bit of violence, i think that's it??

✧ word count: 2.0k

All your life, you had been a bundle of joy. Your kindness radiated off of you wherever you went. There was nothing that made you happier than helping those in need, saying hello to people passing on the street, or picking flowers for strangers. You had been a victim of bullying as a young kid, and from there on out you vowed to never treat anyone else the way you were treated. Thus, you earned the nickname ‘sunshine’.

That’s why many were confused as to how you ended up with Thanos. Your bubbly personality and his arrogant, stubborn, cocky personality clashed like fire and water. That was how the two of you worked, though. You were his sun, and him your moon. You kept him sane on his worst days, the reason that he was on the road to giving up his habits of drinking and taking pills. It wasn’t easy, and it had been a long journey. His rapping career had taken a nosedive, losing most of his money to crypto scams and stupid decisions. Before he met you his life had revolved around meaningless sex and drugs, partying every weekend until his brain turned to mush and he couldn’t feel anything. 

During the games, though, you had captured his attention like no one else ever had. He had been mildly confused at first. 

“Hey, Señorita. Why don’t you come and join my team, yeah? I, Thanos the great, will keep you safe.” He and his partner, player 124, snickered. His cockiness didn’t bother you, though. You beamed, eyes lighting up as you were thrilled somebody wanted you to join them.

“Really? Yeah, for sure!” Your reply was genuine, throwing Thanos off. Most girls played hard to get, adding an element of thrill for him. He loved the chase, and for the first time there apparently was no chase. He and Nam-gyu exchanged confused glances, with the latter looking disappointed.

“Yeah, never mind. We can find somebody el-” Thanos was quick to shut Nam-gyu up, a grin adoring his face. He threw his arm around your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. 

“Why would we need anyone else when we have this beautiful flower right here?” Thanos replied as he looked at you with his pupils blown wide. Instead of being scared away, you felt sympathy tug at your heart. You could tell that the purple haired man was struggling, fighting demons that only he knew about. With that, you decided to stick with him. And it stayed that way through the rest of the games. He tried many advances, and was only met with sincerity. His constant unnecessary flirting was met with smiles and laughter from you, so carefree that it genuinely confused him even in his incredibly high state.

He continued to watch you during the games and within the dormitory, noticing as your small acts of kindness didn’t just apply to him. He saw you give some of your food to Jun-hee, insisting that she eat more. When tension arose between players, you were there trying to break it up and most of the time, it worked. You tried to be there for Min-su when you could tell he was scared. After so long, Thanos began to grow a soft spot for you, though he would never show it.

Once the games had disbanded as the vote to leave finally won, he spent many days with you lingering in the back of his mind.  He returned to his old habits, knowing it wasn’t like him to let his thoughts be consumed by a woman. His fascination with you really just stemmed from how you managed to be a beacon of light even in the darkest of times, and how even if you were feeling low it would be impossible for anyone to tell. Everyone else's needs came before your own. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to seek you out. 

Now, while his life was still anything but quiet, he had you. While he had a funny way of showing his appreciation most of the time (he still held that same arrogant personality that you had come to know during the games), deep down he was grateful to have someone like you in his life. He knew the kind of person you were, and he couldn’t believe you stuck by someone like him. You two were walking in the street and a fan came up to him? You would quietly step back, a smile on your lips as you watched them interact. He had a show? You were there front and center every single time, being his biggest supporter. He slipped up and took a pill? You didn’t look at him differently or hold any ill will towards him. You’d stay by his side, making sure he was okay and fussing over him until he came down. That never came without a stern lecture though, of course.

What he absolutely hated, however, was when people took advantage of your kindness. There were bad people out there, but you tried to see through it, always trying to find the good in everyone. He considered you a doormat at times; you let people walk all over you just because you had such a good heart.

The two of you were walking down the street late at night. He had his hood up and sunglasses on, trying to mask his identity even though it was dark out. A cigarette was held loosely between his fingers, lazily taking a puff every now and then. You walked by his side, your fingers intertwined with his free ones. He always had to be touching you in some way whether it was holding your hand, his arm around your shoulder, or sliding his finger into the belt loop of your jeans. The man did not care about PDA, he just wanted to show you off and let everyone know you were his any chance he got. 

He was stressed, wanting nothing more than to get back to your shared apartment. He couldn’t wait to unwind and get into bed with you, imagining as you put on one of his shirts that was far too big for your frame. While he was lost in thought, he noticed that your hand had slipped out of his. Turning around, he inwardly groaned as he noticed that you had stopped by a man on the ground. He stopped, watching the interaction warily. While he knew that you were too sweet for your own good, he supported it, just always keeping a watchful eye on the situation. 

You approached the man, frowning as you felt the chill in the air. No one should have to live like this, you thought. It completely saddened you. 

“Hello sir,” you spoke softly as you began to pull money out of your purse. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him to be able to get some food and hopefully some water. You could smell the alcohol wafting off of him, making your nose scrunch but that didn’t deter you. “Here. I hope this helps.” You held out the money towards him. He eyed you suspiciously, snatching it out of your outstretched hand. Before you could pull your hand away, he grabbed your wrist. Your smile faltered slightly. 

“You think this is enough, bitch?” He sneered, clearly very intoxicated. His grip on your wrist tightened and you winced, trying to pull it away. “I know you have more in there. Let’s see what else you got, huh?” He went to reach for the straps of your purse with his other hand. 

“Hey, motherfucker! I’ll fucking kill you for that!” 

Thanos shouted from behind you, wasting no time in storming up and swiftly kicking the man. The impact was enough to cause him to let go of your wrist and you stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. Thanos delivered a punch, and then another one, and you couldn’t bear to watch anymore. You knew he actually would kill the guy.

“Su-bong!” You yelled out, grabbing his arm and pulling him away with all of your strength. His nostrils flared, seething as he snatched the money right back out of the man’s hand. Instantly, you shook your head, pulling the cash out of your boyfriend’s hand. “Don’t kick him while he’s down.” You said quietly as you placed the money back down by the man, not concerned as he was too busy trying to catch his breath after having the wind knocked out of him. Thanos rolled his eyes so hard they could’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. He quickly pulled you away, gripping your upper arm. 

“This is why I hate the way that you are sometimes, sunshine,” He hissed, and his words stung only for a moment as you knew he didn’t really mean it. “What if I wasn’t with you, huh? Then what?” 

“I’m completely capable of taking care of myself, Su-bong.” You murmured, shaking your arm out of his grasp. You rubbed your wrist with your free hand, already being able to see the redness forming under the street lights. He grumbled, cursing as he grabbed your hand. 

“Let me see.” He inspected your wrist, anger bubbling to the surface again. He whipped around and glared at the guy on the ground, causing you to grab his shoulder and force him to keep walking. You knew his temper was like a ticking time bomb, especially when it came to anyone messing with you or even so much as looking at you the wrong way. 

“It’s okay, my love. I’m fine, we’re fine. My wrist is okay. Relax.” Your reassuring voice spoke quietly as he looked down at you, that painfully optimistic smile plastered on your face. He stopped walking and grabbed your face, smashing his lips onto yours. You reciprocated, kissing him back with a softness that rivaled his neediness. 

“You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that señorita?” He whispered, peppering kisses on your jawline and down your neck as you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I have to keep you on your toes somehow.” You joked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off of the ground momentarily as he squeezed you. 

“You sure do, sweetheart. I just want you to be careful, you know? You're too…nice, for your own good. Can’t have anyone taking advantage of my beautiful flower.” He growled, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder like it was nothing. Your giggling fit continued at his dramatics, although you didn’t protest. He didn’t show his protective side often so when he did you secretly loved it. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Su-bong. You don’t have to worry,” And god, he hoped you were right. You had become his lifeline, the very thing keeping him on this Earth. His past meant nothing when he had a future with you in it. “As long as I have Thanos the great as my bodyguard, I don't have to worry.” He rolled his eyes at that comment, his free hand coming up and smacking you on the ass. He heard you gasp and could almost feel the wind up as you did it back, making him chuckle. 

“Alright now, my sunshine. Let’s get you back to the safety of my bed.” He hadn’t put you down but you didn’t mind even if you were getting slightly lightheaded. You whispered an ‘I love you’, so quiet he almost didn’t catch it. He did, though, and his breath hitched. You knew he wasn’t good at showing his emotions, so whenever you did tell him you loved him you took no offense when he didn’t directly say it back. Most times, he deflected and would just answer with something along the lines of ‘yeah, you too’. He was far from the sappy type, the polar opposite of you. This time, however, you heard him loud and clear when he whispered it back. A jolt of shock ran through your body, not expecting this to be the moment he finally said what you’d been waiting to hear. 

“Wow, you must’ve really been worried about me, huh?” You couldn’t help but ruin the moment.

“Aye, don’t push it now. Next time I’ll stand by and let him rob you.”

[neeeooon]

Hey! How would the bllk boys (Bachira, Isagi, Chigiri, Rin + your choice?) React to their SO trying to break up with them bc she's insecure about not being ambitious enough and she thinks they should be with someone 'better'?

omg this made me so sad 😭 hopefully you enjoy!

when you try to break up with them because you’re insecure ;

bf bllk x fem!reader

bachira meguru

-> watching bachira dance across the field was your favorite thing in the world, but it could be bittersweet. you saw how happy it made him, and it sucked to know that you’d never feel that kind of excitement

-> the thoughts about not being good enough finally got to you, and you caved. “meg? when you have a minute?” “what’s up, y/n?”

-> you didn’t think it’d be this hard. “i… i don’t think i’m ambitious enough to be your girlfriend. i don’t have a thing like you do, and i feel like maybe i’m distracting you? like instead of being on the field, you’re with me, and that’s not fair to you and your dreams.”

-> after a moment of staring and blinking and confused looks from bachira, he jumps up and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “just because you don’t have a ‘thing’, doesn’t mean i don’t want you.”

-> he releases you and flashes his signature head-tilt-smile combo that wrecks your heart. “i can help you find something that drives you as much as soccer drives me, if you want! and if you don’t, that’s okay, too! but whatever it is, i want us to do it together. okay? :>”

isagi yoichi

-> after watching team blue lock play against the u20 team and win, hearing how determined your boyfriend was during the interview, watching him celebrate with his teammates, you made up your mind

-> “yoichi? can we talk?” and he starts sweating because he hasn’t seen or heard from you except for a little “congrats!” text since his game

-> you sit him down and stare into your lap as you say, “i think we should break up.”

-> he leans forward to ask why, but stops when you look up to reveal tears in your eyes. “i don’t have a dream. i’m not ambitious like you, and i don’t want to hold you back from achieving your dreams. i want you to live a full, prosperous life with someone better—“

-> and he’s kissing you. “y/n, no. i don’t… there isn’t anyone better. yes, this is my dream, but it’s a dream with you in it! and no one says prosperous, babe.”

-> you laugh at that and he helps wipe your tears away. “do you promise?” “i promise.”

chigiri hyoma

-> you loved watching chigiri regain his dream of running and playing soccer, but there were times when you felt like he was going to pass you by and not look back

-> it made you insecure, knowing he was so happy chasing after this dream that had previously been out of reach, when you didn’t have anything to compare it to. you felt like he could do better with someone who understood his struggles

-> “hyoma?” “hm?” “can i talk to you about something?” “mhm!” “something serious?” “… okay.”

-> and you tell him everything. “i feel like you could do better. like if you were with someone who truly understood your struggles and dreams, that you’d be happier. i love you, but i don’t want to be a deadweight in your future.”

-> chigiri would look at you, know you’re not joking, but still think this is a huge prank. “y/n, i’m able to run toward my dream because of you. because in my head, you’re there at the finish line. you’re not holding be back, you’re giving me something to run to.” you cried after that for sure

itoshi rin

-> though you cheered for your boyfriend and encouraged him every step of the way, you didn’t think you’d ever amount to the love and passionate rin has for soccer

-> it made you doubt yourself, seeing him so ambitious to strive for this dream when you didn’t have anything close to amounting

-> when it finally got to be too much, you pulled your boyfriend aside and kept your hands at your sides. “you are the most talented person i know.”

-> and now he’s nervous. “what’s going on, y/n?”

-> “i feel like i’m pulling you away from that when i’m around. i think your career would be better off without me dragging you down. you’re such a skilled player, rin, and i’m just—“

-> he takes your hands in his and squeezes them, almost desperately. “don’t say anything else. i don’t want to hear it, y/n, please. i can’t do this without you. you aren’t pulling me away or dragging me down, so don’t—“

-> this time it’s you who cuts him off when you fling yourself against his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know… thank you for telling me.”

michael kaiser

-> omg he is terrified when you ask him to “talk” because he’s 98% sure he left the oven on and thinks you found out

-> but when you say, “i think we should break up,” his mind goes blank

-> “why.” “i just feel like you’re so focused on chasing your dream that you don’t need me… i can’t help you become a better player, and i don’t want to hold you back—“ “did i do something?” “huh?”

-> kaiser would look at you with such sad eyes, but accept this thinking that you want to leave him. “if you want to go, i won’t stop you. don’t stay with me if you aren’t happy anymore, y/n—“

-> you are confused, because how has the conversation changed this much? “what the heck, no! michael, i’m saying you can do better than me—“ “but i don’t want ‘better’! there isn’t ‘better’. i want you!”

[artisiumstudios]

Au where Stan finds the duffle bag.

HEAR ME OUT-

Basically it’s like a week or two before the science fair, Stan is minding his business (sort of) and while he’s going through a closet/cabinet trying to find some supplies, either for the Stan’o’War or his car, he finds a duffle bag. Curious he rummages through the bag, inside are some toiletries, 20 bucks, and clothing- wait a second. Those are his; his shirt, his pants, his socks— all stuff he has been missing for a couple of weeks. He’s confused, scared, and worried.

Why would his stuff be in here? Why are there toiletries? Why is there money? And who put them there? Unfortunately he already has his answer. Pa was always clear that none of his children would continue leech off of him. If you had nothing to prove then you had nothing to take. The conversation behind the principal’a door swarmed through his mind. How long had pa had his bag packed? Was this always the plan? Was Stanley really that worthless?

But that didn’t matter because Ford wouldn’t choose a school over him! They were going to sail the world together and that would be that, to hell with Pa if he wanted Stan gone then fine he didn’t need him, he didn’t need anyone but his brother and the sea!

At first Stan wants to tell Ford about what he found, but decides not to because in the end it won’t be important. So he keeps quiet and decides to take the bag into his car, after all hey 20 bucks and he gets his stuff back! He can’t leave it in his room cause if Pa finds out he was snooping through his stuff, well he’d rather not think about that.

Then the conversation on the swing set happens, and Stan’s head starts spinning. So it wasn’t just Pa who wanted Stan out, Ford was willing to ditch him too. Stan feels betrayed and hurt, he doesn’t know what to say or what to do. He starts to question his theory, did ford help pack his bag? Was that why he had been so distant lately, feeling guilty for letting his Pa kick him out and even helping him with the bag?

Did ma know? Eventually Ford leaves, huffing from Stan’s lack of enthusiasm and response, mumbling about being jealous that he has a better future up ahead, not just some silly childish dream. Stan snaps, not physically, not with his words: just emotionally.

Fine if they don’t want him there then he’ll just leave. That night while everyone is asleep he grabs all of his money, more clothing, a sketch book, his comics— a picture of him and ford on the stan’o’war— and some other things he thinks might be valuable or just handy. And he drives away.

Nobody notices Stanley’s disappearance the next day, not until night has fallen. Ford cheerfully excited with his new full ride scholarship, goes and tells his parents. Caryn is happy, tears of joy falling down her face as she hugs her intelligent baby boy, his father gives a small smile and a nod— he gives his approval. But the mood changes once he questions where Stanley is. No one has seen him in hours, actually his car has been gone since early morning. They wait awake all night, hoping for some sign, some clue!

Filbrick grunts as he walks up to the closet, his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, his lips pressed in a tight line. He sighs deeply.

Eventually a report is filed, but there is not much they can do, if Stanley ran away then he isn’t missing, and the police refuse to do anything about that.

Anyways thats like yk the beginning of how this whole thing happens but here are some other thoughts and ideas:

Stan:

Without Filbrick telling him he’s not allowed back into the family without a million dollars, Stan isn’t as driven by money as in canon. He doesn’t have a need for large amounts of money therefore he doesn’t have a need to do sketchy jobs just to satisfy his need to have his family back. In other words he doesn’t have as much trauma as in canon and is actually more able to settle down without being on the run or in survival mode. The first couple of months he just spends driving as far away from the East as possible making his way over to New Mexico where he settles down, first as a bar tender then eventually as a mechanic, he lives comfortably in a crummy apartment but hey he doesn’t really need much

Unfortunately he does get bored, even if it’s not with his brother he does crave adventure. And while fixing a this guys truck he overhears of a town called Gravity Falls, where weird creatures tend to reside in. So you guessed it, he picks up and drives from New Mexico over to Gravity Falls Oregon.

He gets a small but nicer apartment this time around and first he works as a mechanic. Immediately he starts to get a sense of the place and its weirdness and he loves it! (Ford would love it here-) .

Since the blind eye isn’t a thing people have two reactions to the weirdness of gravity falls: freak tf out or shrug and go on with their day. Stanley being Stanley gets the great idea to act sort of like a monster hunter/ putting small attractions up with the less violent creatures, not the mystery shack, but more like the mystery circus!

Eventually Stanley gets the name Monster-Lee for his ability to be able to fight off creatures so easily (mostly through bribery or fists)

Ford:

He still leaves for West Tech, but now he's fallen into extreme stress/anxiety and a bit of depression. Why did his brother leave? Why didn't he say anything? Is he okay? Why did he ever let their father get between them, he should've spent more time with him when he had the chance-

Unlike canon, Ford has no resentment/grudges to hold over Stanley, rather he holds that anger towards Filbrick especially when he found out that he had planned to kick Stanley out-- for being the reason Stanley left.

While Ford does still want to study anomalies, he also takes engineering classes, he wants to develop better technology and hopefully resources for run away teens/homeless teens.

While he doesn't meet Fiddleford as his roommate, he does meet him at a robotics convention where they instantly become friends. After college they develop a small company based around the idea of being able to find people, now expanding into different areas.

Ford is a lot more open with the fact the not only is he a twin, but he likes to talk about his younger twin brother who supported him and always stood up for him.

Part of the development with the technology involved finding people in forest dense areas, especially with a lot of caves (please tell me someones seen that one chart) Which then leads them to gravity falls as their first test area, small enough to test their tech, but still forest dense to get sufficient results.

and then these three bozos find each other lol. anyways thats all i got , i thought of this in the shower like 30 minutes ago and decided to procrastinate on my HW writing this lol. anyways

[fleshunger]

helping vi with her t-shots :3

vi x reader, established relationship, fluff, crack (?), masculine titles for vi (boyfriend), idk man i wrote this in 10 minutes, was thinking abt using he/him for vi in this one but decided against it idk how the crowd feels abt that, this is just cute n short silly okay?!!! layout inspired by kitguts and cowgirlvi

a.n: no way I posted after 400 years ok anyway this fic is not supposed to represent an accurate process of a testosterone shot please do not try to recreate at home i have never given myself or someone else a testosterone shot and im not entirely sure how the process works so if this isn’t realistically depicted please excuse me for I am inexperienced

You’re curled up on the side of the couch, mindlessly watching a random episode of Gossip Girl while occasionally scrolling through your phone.

It’s already dark out, and Vi still isn’t home. You know she likes to take her time at the gym, but you’re starting to wonder where she is and what she’s doing since she hasn’t come home yet.

As if on cue, the lock to your shared apartment clicks open, and in strides Vi, slightly out of breath, with her gym bag in one hand and what seems to be a pharmacy bag in the other. Her tan skin and bulging muscles glisten with a thin layer of sweat, making her all the more attractive.

“Hey, I’m back!” she huffs as she tosses her keys to the side, dropping her duffel bag to the floor and running a hand through her damp hair. She’s been growing it out, and you think she’s the handsomest she’s ever been. She lets out a loud sigh before heading to the fridge to chug an ice-cold bottle of water like a man parched.

“Hey yourself, what took you so long?” you ask, your attention entirely focused on her—especially on her moving back muscles. God, she’s so broad…

Vi snaps you out of your trance with her reply. “I got held up,” she says, taking another gulp of water before holding up the pharmacy bag. “Had to pick up my T from the pharmacy.”

“Oh, cool,” you say with a small hum and a slight nod, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend as she walks over to the couch and plops down next to you, stretching out her strong limbs.

“Gonna force me to give you your shot again?” you grin lightheartedly. Vi knows you actually don’t mind at all—on the contrary, you love helping her.

Vi raises a brow and nudges your side with an amused smirk. “You bet your ass I am,” she retorts playfully, making you roll your eyes.

You get up to gather everything you need for Vi’s shot: an alcohol pad, a clean needle, and, of course, her newly picked-up vial of testosterone.

“C’mere,” you command.

“Whatever ya say, Doc,” Vi quips as she lays herself over your lap like a little kitten, clearly getting comfortable.

“Butt again this ti—?”

“Yep,” Vi cuts you off before you can even finish the sentence.

You exhale softly as you grab the small vial. “Why don’t you let me put it in your leg or something normal? It’s like you want me to inject your butt,” you mutter while carefully filling the syringe with the hormone.

“Nah, butt’s funnier,” she says with a cocky grin, clearly enjoying the fact that she’s making you inject her ass.

You flick the syringe to get rid of any air bubbles. “Alright, alright, pants down, weirdo.”

“Someone’s eager to see my ass,” Vi teases as she shimmies down her sweatpants. You have to hold yourself back from giving her a slap or a pinch for that comment. She stops when she’s revealed enough skin to give you room to work with.

You gently grab the soft skin and carefully insert the syringe into her cheek, injecting her with the T.

Vi balls her hand into a fist, one eye squeezing shut. Despite doing this plenty of times, it still comes with a little pinch.

“Ow…” she huffs, her face scrunching up for a second.

You make sure to fully inject the dose before pulling the needle out, giving her ass an appreciative pat. “Alright, there’s your T-shot, big boy,” you say with a smile.

Vi rolls her eyes and pulls her pants back up. “Oh, shut up,” she groans sarcastically, readjusting herself into a more comfortable position.

You continue rubbing the curve of her ass—she sure is blessed in that department, after all.

“Have you noticed any symptoms?” you hum, genuinely interested in your boyfriend’s hormone journey.

“Hmm… well, my acne’s a bit worse, my mood’s kinda short at times, and I’m hairier,” she says with a yawn, looking up at you lovingly. “But my voice is deeper, I’m bulking easier, and there’s definitely an increase in strength, so there’s that.”

She grins, clearly enjoying those two aspects in particular.

“Oooh~! Lemme pop your pimples,” you leer, already wiggling your fingers.

Vi scoffs, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “No way in hell!”

try my recipe boy

[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death Part 3

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 9K-ish

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3

Summary: Wednesday finally gets a glimpse of your power.

Warnings: Wednesday starting to fall? JelousWednesday! Everyone loves Enid.

(Author's note: This is a very long chapter, and ALOT OF THINGS happens in this chapter, and also had to change some things here and there which is why it took me a lot of thinking and time writing, so any feedback will be helpful!)

As Wednesday entered the quad during Lunch period, her gaze immediately fell on her usual table, where Enid was enthusiastically gesturing as she spoke to—you.

Eugene sat on one corner of the table, Enid said something particularly exuberant, causing you to stiffen visibly. Eugene, in turn, shot Enid a panicked look that screamed, Please stop talking before you get us all killed.

As Wednesday reached the table and took her seat across from you without a word, her gaze landing on Enid, who greeted her with a wide smile.

“Hey, Wednesday! Guess what?!” Enid began, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

“I would rather not,” Wednesday replied flatly.

Enid turned her attention back to you. “So, like I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and I’ve been thinking—Last year we barely won but it’s time we totally crush Bianca’s team this year. And you, Y/N, would be perfect for—”

You didn’t bother looking up from your plate. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Enid said, huffing dramatically but quickly recovering with a smile. “Okay, but seriously, you’d be perfect. We need someone like you—someone who can strategize and, you know, scare people."

“I don’t care.” Your tone was sharp enough to cut, but Enid either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Come on! You and Wednesday on the same team would be unstoppable! Seriously, we could destroy Bianca. She wouldn’t stand a chance!” Enid leaned closer to you, her smile widening as if sheer enthusiasm could wear down your resistance.

“Let me clarify,” you said, your focus still on your plate. “No. As in, absolutely not. As in, I’d rather eat broken glass than subject myself to whatever nonsense you have planned.”

Eugene shifted uncomfortably in his seat, darting a glance between you and Enid like he was bracing for an explosion.

“That was a bit harsh, But I promise you’re gonna love it once you try it!” Enid barreled on, her voice impossibly cheerful. “And imagine—Wednesday and Y/N! You’d wipe the floor with everyone.”

You set your utensils down with a quiet clink, turning to Enid with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you ever stop to think before you speak?” you asked coldly, your tone a knife's edge. “Or is it your entire personality to be this relentlessly irritating?”

Enid blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. “Wow, okay, someone’s cranky. But I get it! You’re under a lot of pressure or whatever.”

“Pressure has nothing to do with it,” you replied, your tone colder still. “You’re insufferable. You don’t listen, you don’t think, and you certainly don’t understand the concept of personal boundaries. Take a hint: I’m not interested in whatever childish game you’re dragging me into.”

Enid’s bright demeanor faltered, her smile slowly dying... The table fell silent. Even Wednesday, who often found Enid’s enthusiasm grating, felt an unexpected pang at the harshness of your words.

But Enid didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her head as she unleashed her ultimate weapon.

The puppy eyes.

“Well,” Enid said after a beat, her voice quieter and sadder. “That’s a really mean thing to say. But I’m not giving up. Because deep down, I think you’re not as awful as you want people to think.”

You stared at her, unblinking, as though calculating the odds of her ever leaving you alone. Wednesday found herself watching the exchange with acute interest, her gaze flicking between you and Enid.

Wednesday stiffened. Even she wasn’t immune to Enid’s maddeningly effective weapon. She braced herself for your response, curious to see if you’d succumb.

You let out a tired sigh. “Fine,” you said at last, your voice heavy with exasperation. “I’ll join your team. Just stop talking so I can eat in peace.”

Enid let out an excited squeal and, before you could react, threw her arms around you in a side hug. You froze completely, your body going rigid as though you’d been petrified on the spot.

Wednesday felt something shift in her chest—a faint, unpleasant pang that she quickly dismissed as indigestion. Her fingers tightened around her fork as she watched Enid cling to you, her head resting against your shoulder...

You didn’t push her away, but your voice was low and measured as you began counting down. “Three… two…”

Enid immediately released you, sitting back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry! I just got excited. Thank you so much for agreeing, though! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

"I already do." You muttered, returning your attention to your plate with the same calm indifference you always exuded. But Wednesday caught the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—a weariness, perhaps, or a resignation you couldn’t quite mask.

Enid, oblivious as ever, turned her attention back to Wednesday. “Isn’t this great, Wens? With Y/N on our team, we’re totally going to win this year!”

Wednesday didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she studied you for a moment longer, her mind churning with thoughts she couldn’t fully articulate. Finally, she turned back to her own meal.

"We will see." She said, still feeling something unrecognizable. Whatever it was, she would not allow it to distract her. Not now, not tonight. Behind the greenhouse. After the sun falls. You had given her a directive, and she intended to follow it, not out of curiosity, of course, but because she refused to let you maintain the upper hand.

After the rest of the classes ended, Wednesday found herself in a disconcerting state of reflection. The day's events gnawed at her, though she maintained her usual stoic demeanor. Your words echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting, like the blade you so clearly wielded with mastery.

"You’re not worth wasting my time."

Though she would never admit it aloud, those words struck her. A part of her dismissed them—what could you possibly know of her worth? But another part, the one she rarely let surface, couldn’t help but dwell on the sting.

Wednesday Addams had faced monsters, both literal and metaphorical, yet here she was, feeling... unsettled. Not afraid. No, Wednesday Addams was never afraid. But the thought of meeting you, alone, made her feel something she couldn't entirely recognize.

She briefly considered informing Enid of her impending meeting with you. Not out of fear, of course. Fear was an emotion beneath her. It was a matter of logic, of ensuring someone knew her whereabouts. But as soon as the idea formed, she discarded it. No, involving Enid would complicate matters, and the thought of explaining herself to her overenthusiastic roommate was unbearable.

Instead, she opted for a more discreet confidant.

“You’re to keep an eye on the time,” she instructed Thing, her voice even but firm. “If I’m not back by ten, assume the worst.”

Thing’s fingers scrambled into a questioning gesture.

“Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “I am not afraid. Merely cautious.”

Thing’s tapping turned into a sarcastic drumroll, but Wednesday ignored him, brushing past to retrieve her coat.

The path to the greenhouse was empty, obviously no one would be out here at this time.

As she rounded the corner, she spotted you immediately. You were seated on the ground, your back against the glass wall of the greenhouse. A katana rested beside you, the blade gleaming faintly in the dimming light.

Did you summon it? Wednesday wondered.

You looked up as she approached, your gaze steady and unreadable. “You’re on time.”

Wednesday ignored the comment, her eyes flicking to the katana. “Are you finally going to show me?”

"Katana techniques aren’t something you can master by watching. It requires precision and patience, I know you fought some old wizard, but I highly doubt that would be enough."

Wednesday’s expression hardened. "That 'old wizard' was Crackstone."

“And?” Your tone was flat, unimpressed, as if the name meant nothing.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. What do I need to do first?”

You reached down and picked up the katana beside you, holding it out for her. Wednesday accepted the sword with both hands, one curling around the scabber and the other around the handle. It was heavier than she expected—not unmanageable, but noticeable. Still, she adjusted quickly, refusing to let any hesitation show.

She stood, focusing on the sword, attempting to summon a vision. She hoped for even a glimpse of your history, your purpose, your motives. Nothing. The blade remained silent in her hands, its secrets as tightly guarded as yours.

Her reverie was broken by your voice. “Do you know how to unsheathe it without losing your fingers?”

Wednesday met your gaze, her tone sharp. “Of course. Just because I haven’t fought with a katana doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of its basics.” She demonstrated, flawlessly unsheathing the sword with a precise motion.

For a moment, she paused, her gaze lingering on the blade. Its sharp edge felt almost hypnotic.

“Now sheathe it again,” you instructed.

Wednesday hesitated, the command catching her off guard. “I just took it out,” she muttered annoyed.

Still, she attempted to comply, but the process proved unexpectedly awkward. She struggled to align the blade with the scabbard, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy. She half-expected you to smirk or make a biting comment, but your expression remained impassive, devoid of mockery.

Instead, you conjured your own katana, the same one she had seen in the Nightshade Library, and unsheathed it with effortless grace. “Watch,” you said simply. With practiced ease, you demonstrated the technique for resheathing the sword, pushing the scabbard forward while maintaining balance.

Wednesday observed intently, her sharp mind immediately grasping the mechanics. “I see,” she murmured, attempting the motion again. This time, her execution was far smoother, and the blade slid into place with satisfying precision.

“Good,” you said, your voice still emotionless.

From there, the lesson progressed. You guided her through a series of foundational techniques, demonstrating precise footwork and the fluidity required to wield the katana effectively. Your movements were deliberate, almost mesmerizing in their precision, and Wednesday found herself silently admiring your mastery. She didn’t smile. She didn’t laugh. But she felt something.... something she felt while grave digging... is this what Enid called... "fun"?

Still, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give you the satisfaction of knowing she was... pleased by this... would you even care if you knew?

By the end, her muscles ached pleasantly, but her mind was sharper than ever. She sheathed the katana with practiced ease, turning to you as you prepared to leave.

“Here,” she said, holding out the weapon.

You took it, and as soon as it was in your hands, both katanas vanished into thin air. Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

As you turned to leave without any , she felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Wait.”

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder. “What is it?”

She struggled for a moment, the words eluding her. Finally, she asked, “Why did you agree to show me these techniques?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you looked at her with that same unreadable expression. “Goodnight, Wednesday,” you said, your voice softer than she expected.

You turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It wasn’t until you had disappeared into the shadows that she realized something—this was the first time you had used her name. And for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it mattered.

As Wednesday pushed open the door to her shared dorm, her eyes went to Enid sprawled across her bed as she animatedly whispered to Thing, who was perched on her pillow like her sidekick.

As she stepped further into the room, she felt Enid’s gaze snap to her. It tracked her every step, as though waiting for some kind of confirmation.

“What?” Wednesday snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Enid sat up, crossing her legs and hugging a pillow to her chest, a smug little smile spreading across her face. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone far too innocent to be genuine. “Absolutely nothing.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, peeling off her coat and hanging it neatly on its hook. “You’re staring at me."

Enid gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Staring? Me? No! I’m just... thinking."

"Thinking what, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Enid drawled, leaning forward with a grin that only grew wider with each passing second. “Maybe observing how you’ve been spending an unusual amount of time with a certain someone lately?”

Wednesday stiffened, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she adjusted the lace cuffs of her shirt. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Enid said with a giggle, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Choose your next words carefully, Enid.”

“What were you doing with Y/N?” Enid sat up straighter, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

Wednesday’s brow twitched. “That is none of your concern.”

“See, now you’re making it sound suspicious,” Enid teased, her grin widening. “Were you two, like, out in the woods doing something spooky? Summoning ghosts? Practicing dark magic? Or was it something more... romantic?”

Wednesday’s glare deepened. “Romantic?” she repeated, “Do you genuinely believe I would waste my time on such frivolity?”

“Well, I mean,” Enid said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “you do waste your time digging up graves"

Wednesday ignored her as she walked out to the balcony. She needed air. She needed quiet. She needed to expel whatever it was that Enid’s incessant prattling had stirred within her.

The cello waited in its usual spot.

Without hesitation, Wednesday settled into her chair, the bow fitting naturally into her hand. She began to play.

The bartender wiped down the counter with practiced ease. His face was friendly, his demeanor warm as he smiled at the hooded girl sitting before him.

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, his tone easy and warm. “Sometimes we need some alone time away from family.”

The customer remained silent, her head tilted downward.

As Wednesday’s fingers danced over the cello strings, her mind drifted. She hadn’t meant to think of you, but it was impossible not to. The memory of your eyes, a depth that hid so much.

Why did you haunt her so? There was a quiet pain in your gaze, a barrier that dared anyone to come closer. What had happened to you? What had made you so guarded, so indifferent to the world?

The bartender smiled as he wiped a glass, his voice light. “You know, I love my family too. Even when they drive me insane.” He chuckled, setting the glass down. “Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Wednesday’s music swelled again, the melody turning wistful. How could she know more about you? Was it even possible?

The bartender glanced around the empty bar, shrugging. “It’s pretty quiet here this time of night. Honestly, I feel more like I’m on guard duty than actually working. Not that I’m complaining—it’s nice to have a slow shift every now and then.”

Wednesday’s bow trembled slightly, though her playing remained flawless. Her thoughts shifted, unwillingly, to you again. She couldn’t shake the questions that gnawed at her. Your precision, your coldness, the way you had spoken to her and yet spared her just enough... that made her understand, there was more to you than you allowed anyone to see.

The bartender leaned closer, his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, no, I get it totally. We all make mistakes. We’re human at the end of the day.”

The customer let out a low chuckle that seemed to echo unnaturally in the small space. It sent an involuntary shiver down the bartender’s spine.

“Are you?” the customer asked, her voice smooth yet chilling.

The bartender blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

The customer slid a card across the counter. His breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on it.

“Are you human?” she repeated, her tone dangerously calm.

As the final note hung in the air, fading into the night, she exhaled slowly, setting the bow down with measured care. The music hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. The unease was still there, coiled in her chest, lingering like a shadow that refused to leave.

Still, one thing was clear. Whatever this was, whatever you were, it wasn’t over.

Finally, she set the cello aside, her movements slower than usual, weighed down by an exhaustion she couldn’t name.

When sleep finally claimed her, it brought something.

Fire. It was everywhere.

And Wednesday was standing right where she fought Crackstone last year.

Enid’s scream, filled with desperation. “Y/N, no!”

The flames seemed to dance around you, as if you were their master rather than their victim. For a moment, you turned your gaze toward her, your eyes, darker... souless.. and then you nodded at Wednesday... as if.. thanking her.

"I know what I have to do now." you said.

The scene shattered like glass, and Wednesday jolted awake, her chest heaving as she sat up in bed. The room was still dark, the faint light of dawn just beginning to creep through the window.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as she struggled to steady her breathing. Dreams were not foreign to her, but this... this was different. It had felt too vivid, too real.

Was it a vision? No. Her visions came with a sharp, distinct pain, an undeniable clarity that marked them as something more than mere dreams. But this... it was murky, fragmented, like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

She exhaled quietly, watching as the darkness outside softened with the rising sun. What were you? That question gnawed at her, more relentless than any puzzle she’d faced before. You didn’t fit neatly into any category of person she’d encountered. Why did her mind seem so determined to orbit around you?

Wednesday despised the thought of being consumed by anyone or anything, yet here she was, watching the sun rise while her thoughts were plagued by you.

She rose from her bed without making a sound and slipped into her black uniform.

Enid stirred in her bed, her sleepy form stretching lazily beneath her colorful blankets.

“Morning, Wends,” she mumbled.

Wednesday grabbed her coat and headed for the door without sparing her roommate a glance. The door clicked shut behind her before Enid could say anything more.

By the time she reached the quad, the space was still empty. Most students were still tucked away in their dorms, waiting for the breakfast bell to draw them out.

But her eyes found you.

You were sitting beneath a large tree at the far end of the quad, your back against the trunk, your eyes were closed, your features relaxed in a way she had never seen before. You seemed... at peace? It was unsettling to see you like this, so different from the guarded, vigilant person she’d encountered before. This version of you felt unfamiliar, almost vulnerable.

For a moment, she hesitated, her boots rooted to the ground as she watched you from afar. Why was she hesitating? Wednesday Addams didn’t hesitate. She was decisive, certain, unflinching. Yet here she was, caught in some inexplicable limbo. It infuriated her.

Finally, she forced herself to step forward. Each step felt heavier than it should, as though an invisible force was pulling her back. By the time she was only a few steps away from you, your eyes opened.

You looked directly at her.

Wednesday froze. The intensity of your gaze was unsettling, not because it was intimidating, but because it was so direct, so unflinching. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching taut between you.

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice low and even.

Wednesday blinked, her composure snapping back into place like a well-worn mask. “I could ask you the same question.”

You regarded her for a moment, then shifted slightly against the tree. “Resting,” you said simply. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “And I suppose you decided that lying on cold earth was preferable to staying in your dorm?”

You shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

Wednesday didn’t have a retort for that. She understood the value of silence more than anyone.

You studied her now, and she hated the way it made her feel. Like you were seeing something she hadn’t meant to show. “You don’t seem like the morning exercise type,” you finally said.

“I woke up early,” was all Wednesday offered.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t push. You didn’t even invite her to sit, which was something she had somehow expected.

She frowned at herself. Why did she expect that? You weren’t the kind of person who invited anyone to sit beside you, and Wednesday certainly wasn’t someone you would extend such an offer to. She wasn’t special in your eyes, nor should she be.

The realization irritated her more than it should have.

The silence between you stretched, not awkward but Wednesday won't call it comfortable either. “Do you want to spar today?” she asked.

You blinked at her, then nodded.

She almost wished you had asked why. Maybe then she could figure out the answer herself.

Her mind drifted back to the dream. You had always been dark, just like her. But in the dream, it was different. You were worse. Your eyes weren’t yours.

She exhaled, not realizing she had until the sound broke the quiet.

You noticed immediately, your brow furrowing as you turned back to her.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, your tone cautious.

Wednesday straightened, her mind scrambling for a response. She couldn’t tell you about the dream, not yet. She needed more time to understand it herself. Instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Poe Cup.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “What about it?”

“Since you and I are on the same team, I thought you should know more about it,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “It’s a simple boat race that lacks bound rules to keep the students from harming each other. That’s all I need to know. Works fine for me.”

Wednesday smirked, a small, fleeting expression that you might have missed if you hadn’t been paying attention. You had no idea about the costumes. The mandatory, humiliating black cat ensemble that had tortured her the first time she’d participated. It was only fair that you endured the same indignity. She decided then and there not to tell you about it. Let it be a surprise.

The quad was beginning to fill now, “You should join me for breakfast.”

You raised a brow at her.

She added, “Enid will drag you there anyway. It will save you the effort.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, following her as the two of you made your way toward the dining hall.

And Wednesday, for reasons she refused to name, felt a little more at ease.

Wednesday had expected you to leave.

As she sat on the bench, you settled across from her, your posture as composed as ever, shoulders relaxed but gaze sharp, always aware. She observed you from the corner of her eye, waiting for that moment where you'd inevitably get up, bored of the company. But you didn’t move.

You stayed.

That was new.

"Oh my god!" Enid's half yell pulled Wednesday from her thoughts.

“You’re sitting here willingly,” Enid launched herself to the seat beside you, grinning wide as she nudged your arm. “By yourself. No threats, no bribery, no blackmail—at least, I don’t think Wednesday blackmailed you. That’s progress, right?”

You merely hummed, not confirming nor denying anything.

Enid let out a dramatic gasp. “That was almost a response. Oh, we are making so much progress.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Must you be so insufferable this early in every morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Enid shot back, flashing her a grin before turning her attention back to you. “You should sit with us more often. Now that we are a team!"

Before you could respond—not that you looked like you were going to—another voice cut in.

Bianca.

“So this is where the brooding duo gathers now?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Enid turned to her, smirking. “Oh, come on, B. You’re just mad because Y/N’s on my team. You’re so screwed.”

Wednesday caught the way Bianca’s eyes narrowed, assessing. You, however, didn’t even acknowledge her. Not a glance. Not a shift in posture. Nothing. Bianca didn’t seem sure whether to be annoyed or impressed.

“Huh,” she muttered, tilting her head. “Guess it’ll be fun to have a challenge for once.”

Wednesday smirked, her voice dry as she leaned forward just slightly. “And lose badly again?”

Bianca shot her a glare, but before she could retort, another voice joined the conversation.

Xavier.

“Uh… morning,” Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to you, but you still didn’t acknowledge him. He swallowed. “Mind if I join?”

“You’re asking that after joining in without permission,” Wednesday said flatly.

Xavier hesitated, then sat beside Bianca, opposite Enid. He looked like he wanted to say something to you but wisely decided against it.

Understandable. He was still shaken after whatever had happened during his last encounter with you.

Then came Eugene, who looked like he regretted his decision the moment he saw how crowded it had become—especially when his eyes landed on you.

He hesitated, clearly debating whether he should turn back. He probably would have, had Enid not noticed him first.

“Eugene!” she called out, “Come sit!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath before reluctantly shuffling over.

And to make matters worse—for him, at least—the only available seat was right beside Wednesday. Which, unfortunately, placed him directly across from you. He slid into the empty spot, making sure to position himself as far from you as possible.

Trying to lighten the mood, Xavier leaned forward, his attention shifting to you.

“So, Y/N,” he started, flashing a small grin. “We barely know anything about you. What’s your deal? Hobbies? Interests? Are you into art? Music?”

You said nothing.

Xavier tried again. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you to loosen up a little.”

Silence.

Wednesday saw it then—the faintest flicker of amusement in your eyes, but it was at Xavier’s expense. You weren’t entertained by his charm. You were entertained by his failure.

Enid snickered. “Damn, Xavier, she hates you.”

Xavier groaned, throwing his hands up. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“More like failing to be friendly.” Bianca corrected, smirking.

Wednesday scowled. She didn’t like this. The way Xavier was blatantly trying to get your attention, the way he was—pathetically—trying to get a reaction out of you. And she especially didn’t like that, for a second, you looked... entertained.

Before she could dwell on it further, Yoko arrived, sliding onto the bench with her usual laid-back energy. “Wow,” she remarked, surveying the table. “This is a weird mix of people.”

Wednesday half expected you to get up and leave, to remove yourself from the growing number of people surrounding you. But you didn’t.

You remained where you were, though your shoulders tensed slightly, and there was a subtle shift in your expression. You weren’t uncomfortable. You weren’t guarded.

But here, among all these people, you seemed slightly irritated, but human.

And for some reason, that made her feel something she couldn’t quite place

Wednesday felt it all, the way she always seemed to end up beside you—walking through the halls, settling into her seat during class.

She told herself it was nothing. A strategic choice, you were an anomaly, and she was merely studying you, trying to make sense of that dream, trying to make sense of you.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t ask why she was beside you between classes, why she sat near you when she had the chance, why she existed in your orbit like it was simply the way things were meant to be.

And Wednesday… Wednesday felt something almost like satisfaction in that. She wasn't sure why she felt… privileged.

It wasn’t as though you had declared her presence welcome, nor did you ever seek it out. You simply tolerated it. And somehow, that felt like enough. She had seen how you interacted—or rather, how you didn’t interact—with others. You kept your distance. You tolerated Enid. But beyond that, you were an island. Unreachable.

So why was she the exception?

The thought was infuriating. She didn’t like questions without answers.

And even in the dull monotony of school, she felt it, you never let your guard down entirely.

Except for one moment.

The fencing class.

She had been looking forward to it. She had been looking forward to you.

And you didn’t disappoint.

Wednesday had challenged you again. And, as expected, she lost. But this time, it was different. This time, she fought harder, adapted quicker. This time, she made you work for your victory.

And this time, she swore she saw something new in your expression—a flicker of exertion, a moment where you had to focus just a little harder.

She was getting better. And that meant something.

For once, she wasn’t entirely bitter about the loss.

By the time the final bell rang and students were retreating to their dorms, she found herself once again at your side. Neither of you spoke at first.

She felt a strange tightness in her chest, something akin to anticipation. It was an irritating, foreign sensation.

She cleared her throat. “I intend to continue our training this evening.”

You hummed.

That was it. Just a hum.

Wednesday frowned. “Is that a yes?”

You didn’t glance at her. “Maybe.”

She exhaled sharply. “I dislike uncertainty.”

You shrugged. “Then that’s your problem.”

She bristled. You had a talent for being insufferable. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself anticipating the evening regardless.

You reached your dorm, unlocking the door and stepping inside without another word.

You didn’t invite her in.

She hadn’t expected you to.

But she didn’t leave immediately either.

Her eyes flickered over your room, drinking in the details—or rather, the lack of them.

It was empty.

Not physically, of course. The furniture was there, the walls intact. But there was nothing personal. No photographs, no decorations, no trinkets that suggested someone actually lived here.

It was cold, soulless.

Just like you.

Like you weren’t meant to stay.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped back to you just in time to see you shrug off your blazer, revealing the toned muscles underneath.

That was—

She swallowed, fingers twitching at her sides.

You were strong. She had already known that, felt it in every spar, every clash of weapons. But seeing it like this, under normal lighting, without the rush of battle—

It was different.

She forced herself to look away, scanning the rest of the room instead. That���s when she noticed the bed. Singular.

“You don’t have a roommate?” she asked.

You barely glanced at her. “Wasn’t safe.”

Before she could question further, you reached for the door.

And then—

Slam.

No goodbye. No parting glance. Just the door shutting in her face.

She should have been angry. She should have been irritated at the sheer audacity of you brushing her off so effortlessly.

Instead, she was intrigued.

Again.

Not safe?

The Poe Cup was fast approaching. Preparation was necessary, and while Enid was all too excited about the event, Wednesday was far more interested in ensuring Bianca suffered another humiliating loss.

Her mind should have been occupied with tactics, strategies—ways to dismantle the Siren’s chances at victory.

Instead, it was occupied with you.

No matter how many times she tried to redirect her thoughts, they circled back to you.

Wednesday’s grip tightened around the paintbrush. This was unacceptable.

She had no reason to be thinking about you right now, yet you had embedded yourself into the crevices of her mind, refusing to be dislodged. Your movements, your words—or lack thereof—haunted her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

It was infuriating.

Why were you always so quiet? Why did you refuse to let anyone in? And why did Wednesday want to be the exception?

The brush in her hand stopped mid-stroke.

A slow, creeping sense of realization settled over her.

She did.

She wanted to be the exception.

The thought was both disturbing and—

“Wow,” Enid said suddenly, snapping Wednesday from her thoughts. “You’ve been at that same spot for like, five minutes.”

Wednesday blinked, turning her head slightly. Enid was watching her, "You're all distracted and moody, well, more moody than usual. And you still haven't come up with a dozen of ways to beat Bianca so that says alot."

Wednesday tightened the rope harder than necessary, the material digging into her palms. "Perhaps you should concern yourself with decorating the boat and leave my thoughts alone."

Enid gasped dramatically. "So you admit you’re thinking about something else?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

There was a beat of silence before Enid's tone shifted, becoming far too smug for Wednesday’s liking. "So, what is it? What did she do? Did she say something? Did she look at you in a way that made your little goth heart go all boom boom—?"

"Enid." Wednesday’s voice was sharp, and for a moment, it seemed like Enid might actually drop it.

She didn’t. "Face it, Wednesday. You’re obsessed."

Wednesday stiffened.

The words hit closer than they should have.

Because the truth was, she was obsessed.

With figuring you out.

With understanding why you were the way you were.

Why you made her feel—

No.

She wouldn’t entertain that thought.

Instead, she inhaled sharply and said, "If I did want to learn more about someone, how would I do it?"

Enid blinked.

"You’re seriously asking me this?"

Wednesday rolled her eyes.

Enid grinned. "Well, you could just stalk them, but let’s be real, we both know that’s not going to work with her. She’s, like, the most un-stalkable person I’ve ever seen. Perhaps you should umm.. how would you say it 'Try courting her.' "

Wednesday blinked.

“What?”

“You know, court her,” Enid said, beaming. “Spend time with her, get to know her more. Talk with her. Maybe even—” she wiggled her eyebrows “—text her at night.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Why at night?”

“Because,” Enid said, “that’s usually when people let their guard down.”

Wednesday stared at her, utterly still. This was absurd. Completely absurd. And yet… A horrifying thought took root in her mind. Would it work?

Wednesday tightened her grip on the rope.

She was going to kill Enid Sinclair.

Wednesday was finally done coloring their boat.  Now her mind was finally where it should be—on strategy, on victory, on humiliating Bianca once again.

And then you arrived.

You carried the boat paddles, your expression unreadable as always.

Wednesday set her brush down, folding her arms as she eyed you. You placed the paddles beside her without a word.

“Let me guess. Enid forced you.”

“I don’t get forced to do things.”

Wednesday raised a skeptical brow. “So you willingly volunteered to help paint these?”

A beat of silence. Then, a flat, “No.”

Wednesday almost smirked. Almost.

You sighed as if resigning yourself to your fate, rolling up your sleeves. “Let’s get this over with.”

Wednesday wordlessly handed you a brush, watching as you dipped it into the paint. You worked with smooth, deliberate strokes, methodical in your approach. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft shh-shh of bristles against wood.

“You handle a brush like you handle a sword,” she said eventually.

You didn’t look at her. “And how is that?”

“Precise. Controlled.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then, “So do you.”

Wednesday paused mid-stroke.

It was such a simple remark, devoid of any weight or hidden meaning, but for some reason, it lodged itself into her thoughts like a splinter.

She turned slightly to glance at you, only to find you focused entirely on your task. As if the words had been nothing more than an observation.

Her mind was racing, but she refused to let it show. It was infuriating how easily you unsettled her, how effortlessly you took over her thoughts.

This was not supposed to happen.

And yet, it was.

She needed to say something—anything—to break the tension creeping into her chest.

“Why do you never ask questions?”

You paused mid-stroke, finally glancing at her. “What?”

Wednesday met your gaze. “You never ask anything. Never pry. Why?”

You studied her for a moment before looking away. “I don’t see the point.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “Curiosity is a natural human instinct.”

“I’ve never been particularly human.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched again. That statement—it was too familiar. Too close to something she would say.

Before she could think of a response, footsteps approached again, breaking the moment entirely.

Enid and Yoko had arrived.

“So, are we finally making a battle plan, or are we just winging it?”

Wednesday exhaled slowly, “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet. “We’re discussing strategy.”

Enid perked up. “Good, because I just got some inside info—Bianca’s adding shields to her boat this year. That means last year’s spear trick won’t work.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. The race was tomorrow, and she had yet to come up with an alternative strategy.

She had been too—

Distracted.

Enid leaned over the boat, frowning. “We need something else.”

Enid and Yoko began listing potential alternatives, but every suggestion was quickly met with a countermeasure that Bianca had likely already accounted for.

Nothing felt right.

Nothing seemed enough.

And then—

“Your focus is misplaced.” you spoke.

All three of them turned to you.

You remained seated, still painting, still looking entirely uninterested in the conversation.

“You’re too fixated on Bianca,” you continued. “There are other teams in this race. You’re underestimating them.”

Enid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Focus on them,” you said simply.

Enid frowned. “And Bianca?”

“Leave taking Bianca’s boat down to me.” you said as you finished the last stroke of paint on the paddle.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “And what guarantee do we have that you can take her down? The water is her field.”

Your gaze met hers.

Emotionless. And Wednesday can see it... the darkness building in your eyes.

“I don’t fail.”

A slow smirk curled at the edges of Wednesday’s lips.

Because suddenly—

Suddenly, she knew exactly how they were going to win.

Wednesday adjusted the black cat ears on her head with all the enthusiasm of someone fastening a noose around their own neck.

This was humiliating. She loathed every aspect of it. But, she supposed, she loathed losing more.

With a sigh, she pulled on the last piece of the outfit and stepped out of the Black Cat’s tent.

And there you were.

Standing a short distance away, arms crossed, staring at Enid and Yoko like they had personally insulted your ancestors.

Your expression was twisted into something resembling mild horror as you looked them up and down. Almost as if you felt her presence, your eyes flicked over to her.

And then—

Disgust.

Your face didn’t change much, but Wednesday caught the subtle narrowing of your eyes, the barely-there curl of your lip.

She had seen this expression on you before—when you were unimpressed, when you found something utterly beneath your standards.

And now you were looking at her like that.

Wednesday was already plotting different ways to murder Enid for putting her in this position.

“I’m not wearing that.” you said.

“Oh, what?” Enid gasped. “You didn’t know?” She turned to Wednesday, hands on her hips. “Wednesday didn’t tell you? This is compulsory.”

You turned to her, a glare so sharp it could cut steel.

She held your glare, unwavering, refusing to be intimidated by whatever silent death threat you were sending her way.

But—strangely—her pulse quickened.

Not out of fear.

Out of something far worse.

Something she refused to name.

Without another word, you grabbed one of the dreadful uniforms from the pile and disappeared into the changing tent.

The second you were gone, Enid turned to Wednesday, eyes practically gleaming.

“This is kinda romantic,” she mused.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “What part of this is remotely romantic?”

"The way you two had a telepathic deathmatch to see who comes out on top right now."

Wednesday ignored her and crossed her arms, waiting.

The minutes stretched, and with each passing second, an odd anticipation settled in her chest.

The tent flap opened and you stepped out.

Her mind stuttered.

There you stood, in the same ridiculous, skintight, fur-trimmed uniform as the rest of them.

Except—

Somehow, on you, it wasn’t ridiculous at all.

The tight fabric outlined every curve, every muscle. The high collar made your shoulders seem sharper, your stance more imposing. And somehow, somehow, the absurd cat ears didn’t make you look silly. They made you look…

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

Absolutely not.

She refused to acknowledge whatever this was.

You had the same unimpressed, vaguely murderous expression you always did, but now it was directed at Enid.

“Try to hug me and I’ll gut you.”

Enid, unbothered, clasped her hands together. “Awww, you’re so cute when you threaten me.”

Wednesday barely heard them.

She was too focused on regaining her composure.

Luckily, Enid was already moving on. “So this is it. You ready?" she asked.

You nodded and strode toward the competition’s starting line. Wednesday followed a moment later, trying very hard to bury whatever the hell had just happened to her brain.

Wednesday gripped her oar with steady fingers, her mind already calculating all the different outcomes, all the scenarios.

Enid sat in the front of their sleek black boat, all grins and bubbling excitement, her fingers twitching with the urge to start rowing before Weems even gave the signal. Yoko was just behind her. Then there was herself, positioned in the middle, strategically placed for control, for observation.

And finally—

You.

Right behind her.

The final and most unpredictable element of this entire race.

She had spent so much time observing you, studying you, trying to untangle the mystery of who you were. And now, here you were, closer than ever, a mere breath away from her.

It made something restless twist inside her.

To their right sat the Amontillados, Xavier's team, who was currently staring at the their boat with open amusement. No—

Not at the boat.

At you.

Wednesday stiffened as Xavier leaned forward, his mouth already curving into that insufferable smirk.

“Wow,” he mused, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Never thought I’d see you in something like that. Gotta say, it’s a look.”

Wednesday’s grip on her oar tightened.

She knew Xavier well enough to recognize that tone, that smug attempt at charm. He tried it on herself last year. He was flirting. With you.

Wednesday felt something snap. A cold, sharp irritation slithered through her chest. She resisted the urge to throw him overboard.

Your reaction, as always, was infuriatingly unreadable. You didn’t acknowledge Xavier, didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink and Xavier chuckled, clearly amused.

She would drown him.

She would personally drag him to the bottom of the lake and drown him.

Before she could act on the impulse, the sound of Principal Weems clearing her throat brought her back.

“The annual Poe Cup is a tradition that has stood since the founding of Nevermore Academy,” Weems began, her voice carrying across the water. “It is a test of teamwork, strategy, and endurance.”

Wednesday resisted the urge to scoff.

Weems continued, glancing between the competing boats. “As always, the rules are simple. Each team must paddle across Raven’s Island, retrieve their team flag, and return to the starting line without being sunk. First team across with their flag—wins.”

Weems lifted the revolver high.

“Let the best team win.”

The second the gunshot rang through the air, the boats shot forward, Bianca’s team took the lead almost immediately, her boat gliding through the water with practiced ease, her team moving in perfect sync with her commands.

Wednesday focused. Bianca wasn’t their immediate concern.

Not yet.

Enid paddled furiously at the front, Yoko, right behind her, was more controlled, keeping pace with Wednesday’s calculated movements.

And at the very back, you were eerily calm as you paddled.

Silent.

Watching.

It was infuriating how unfazed you looked while the rest of them exerted themselves, muscles burning as they fought against the current.

But Wednesday had no time to dwell on it.

Not when she caught movement to her left.

Wednesday snapped her head toward them.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat was creeping up at an angle, dangerously close, their team moving with clear intent. And then she saw it—

A glint of metal.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat jerked to the side, revealing the hidden mechanism at their center.

A massive swinging axe, And it was falling. Right toward them.

A normal person might have panicked.

Enid let out a startled noise, already moving instinctively to the side—

But before the axe could make contact—

It should have split their boat in half.

But it didn’t.

Wednesday had barely registered the movement before she saw it.

You.

Your sword was there.

Your conjured katana, held in one hand with a casual ease, intercepting the massive axe mid-swing.

The force alone should have sent you staggering—should have sent you reeling back—but you stood firm. Your grip never wavered, the katana steady as it held the axe at bay.

Wednesday felt something crawl up her spine.

Admiration? Fascination? Something else? There wasn’t time to dissect it.

She had to move. Now.

With the axe momentarily stalled, Wednesday yanked at the mechanism near her foot—a concealed lever.

The Black Cats’ trap sprang into action.

A weighted net shot out from the side of their boat as it latched onto three of the Pit and the Pendulum’s oars, entangling them, causing them to lose their balance. Their boat wobbled dangerously and then, they tipped.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She wasn't the one to revel in the small victory. Neither were you.

Because the race wasn’t over yet.

Ahead, Bianca’s boat surged forward, sleek and unhindered, cutting through the water like a blade. She had taken an early lead, and despite Wednesday’s best efforts to focus, irritation prickled at the back of her mind.

Not because Bianca was winning.

But because her own mind—her own cursed thoughts—kept slipping back to the girl at the rear of their boat who was silent as ever.

Bianca’s team had reached the island first.

Wednesday grit her teeth, adjusting her grip on the oar. Each stroke sent a sharp pull through her muscles, the effort burning in her arms, but she refused to relent.

Enid panted in front of her, “We’re almost there!”

Yoko, ever composed, nodded. “Push harder. We need to close the gap.”

Bianca’s team had already beached their boat, Bianca going for the flag while the rest stayed behind to defend the boat against any sabotage.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate.

The moment their boat scraped against the shore, she jumped out, boots sinking into the wet sand. She knew the way.

She had walked this ground before.

But so had Bianca. She moved quickly, heart pounding not from exertion, but from the quiet thrill of the challenge. When she reached their flags Bianca was already taking her's. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

Bianca said running past her, “Try not to take a cat nap this time, Addams.”

“I could take one and still win," Wednesday said yanking their flag off.

As soon as she returned back to the shoreline, she spotted her team already waiting in the boat. Enid was already waving frantically from the boat.

“Hurry!” she yelled. “They’re getting ready to launch!”

Wednesday barely slowed as she reached the water’s edge. The boat rocked as she jumped in, but her balance remained steady. She shoved the flag into the side compartment before gripping her oar.

They were back on the water.

And Bianca was still ahead.

The race was now in its most critical moment. The return.

Bianca’s boat cut through the waves, her team paddling with brutal efficiency. But then— Bianca’s team made their move.

Wednesday saw it before the Amontillados did.

Dark shapes slithered beneath the water, just barely visible beneath the surface. Sirens.

Wednesday watched as Xavier’s boat lurch violently.

His teammates flailed, oars slipping from their grasp as hands dragged against their boat, pulling them off course.

The Amontillados didn’t stand a chance.

Xavier and his team barely had time to react before the boat tipped, sending them plunging into the lake.

“Bianca with her damn sirens again,” Yoko muttered. “She took out the Amontillados. We’re next, get ready!”

“I will cut their arms off if they touch this boat.” Your voice was even, void of emotion. “They know that,” you continued, “So they won’t. They probably have some other strategy to take us down.”

Wednesday believed you.

She wasn’t sure if the sirens feared you because of what you could do, or because they had seen you do it before.

They rowed and they rowed.

The finish line loomed ahead, the cheers from the shore swallowed by the sound of paddles striking the water and the waves.

Bianca’s boat was ahead, but not by much. The Black Cats were closing in, their speed a perfect, deadly rhythm, Wednesday just needs to slow it down. She got ready, this was her time, her hand tightened around the crossbow, the one you had given her, or more accurately, conjured for her. It was light, too light, yet it fit in her hands as if it had always been meant for her.

She positioned herself, lifting the crossbow, lining up the shot. One bolt. Just one hole in that boat and the black cats are winning this.

She exhaled, steadying her fingers on the trigger—

Then froze.

A sound curled through the air, slipping into her mind like a wisp of fog curling around her thoughts. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful.

It was beautiful.

Her aim faltered.

Her vision blurred at the edges.

Bianca.

Bianca was singing.

Wednesday clenched her jaw, forcing her grip to stay firm, her finger pressing against the trigger. She blinked, forcing focus, forcing precision—Then fired.

The bolt sliced through the air, cutting towards its target. And then....

Then it missed. No, it didn't miss, it went through Bianca's boat, or more like.. the fake projection of the boat Bianca created in her vision, just behind their actual boat.

Wednesday gritted her teeth. Bianca’s smirk was sharp, knowing.

Then the real attack began.

The siren’s song grew louder, crashing over them like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just in her head anymore—it was in the air, vibrating in her skull, pressing against her ribs.

“Shit—” Yoko’s voice was strangled as she tore her hands from the oar, slamming them over her ears.

Enid whimpered, her claws scraping against the boat’s side as she did the same.

The song grew stronger, insidious. Not just a suggestion, but a command.

Jump.

The word coiled around them like a serpent tightening its grip.

Wednesday felt it seep into her thoughts, her fingers twitching at the oar. Her arms burned as she struggled to paddle alone, the boat swaying against the current.

Bianca’s gaze locked onto hers, triumph in every line of her expression.

She had won. She knew it. And so did Wednesday.

The edges of her vision darkened, the melody still tugging, pulling, commanding, and then—

Bianca’s face twisted. Her smirk faltered.

The song stopped.

A scream.

No

Multiple screams.

Wednesday knew screams.

She had heard them before—raw, agonized, desperate cries that filled the halls of her mind like a sweet melody.

But this—

This was different.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was terror.

Pure, unfiltered terror.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca’s boat.

Bianca’s team was writhing, clawing at themselves, their mouths open in bloodcurdling shrieks. Their fingers tore at their skin, their bodies convulsing as if set ablaze by something unseen.

One of them lurched forward, eyes wide in horror as he let out a strangled gasp—

Then flung himself into the water.

Then another.

And another.

Bianca was the only one left.

And she was shaking.

Slowly, she turned looking at their boat but her eyes weren’t on Wednesday anymore.

They were looking behind her.

Enid and Yoko turned first.

And then Wednesday followed.

You weren’t there.

The space where you had been sitting was empty. They immediately turned back, looking at Bianca.

Bianca’s expression was frozen in something Wednesday had never seen on her before.

Fear.

Not apprehension.

Not wariness.

True, genuine fear.

Then Wednesday saw why.

You stood on Bianca’s boat.

No sound, no splash, no indication of movement. One moment you had been with them. The next, you were standing before Bianca, staring at her as if.., as if you were the bringer of death itself.

Then, with a flicker of motion so quick it was almost imperceptible—

Your katana materialized in your hand.

A sharp whistle of air as the blade cut through space—

Bianca flinched, her arms flying up in reflex, but the strike never touched her.

Instead—

A sharp crack echoed through the water.

A split second later, Bianca’s boat lurched violently.

A clean, perfect slash—

Straight through the hull.

The boat split in two, water rushing in, swallowing it whole.

Bianca barely had time to react before she was sinking, her body hitting the water with a sharp splash.

Wednesday steadied her breath.

Her fingers curled around the oar, her grip firm.

She turned back.

And there you were. Sitting in your seat.

As if you had never left. As if nothing had happened.

“Start rowing.” Your voice was emotionless, cold. Commanding.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched against the wood. She had never been one to follow orders. But she didn’t hesitate to follow this.

[End note: Yeah, that took me too much time to even copy paste from doc to here lol. Comment how was it]

[Also comment if u wanna be added to the taglist because the updates will take a bit time because of the length.]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk@mally-ka@protozoario@machyishere@freakshow2501@101rizzlrr @casbrawel

[arcadia-smith]

Note: Fluff. Because I feel like I've been doing this boy dirty.

Bucky watches you from across the bar, swirling the whiskey in his glass as Sam chatters beside him. He barely hears a word. His focus is on you—laughing, leaning close to some guy who’s all charm and easy smiles.

His jaw tightens. He’s got no right to be jealous, but that doesn’t stop it from curling hot in his chest.

“She doesn’t love me,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone. “She’s not that stupid.”

Sam stops mid-sip of his beer and raises an eyebrow. “Right. And I’m Captain America because I love spandex.”

Bucky shoots him a glare. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Sam sighs. “Man, you ever consider that maybe you’re the stupid one?”

Bucky scoffs. “She deserves better.”

“Let her decide that.”

He wants to believe it could be that simple. But what kind of future can he offer you? A man built for war, dragging a past of blood and regret? You were light—sunshine in human form. And Bucky? Bucky was still learning how to live in it.

But then you glance over, catching his eye across the room. And the way your smile softens, the way your gaze lingers—hell, it makes something dangerous flare in his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, he’s the stupid one after all.

Bucky’s heart beats a little harder, tt’s only a moment, but it’s enough for him to feel a shift in the air. He can’t help the pang in his chest—something raw and hopeful, despite his best efforts to push it down.

He doesn’t think you’d ever look at him like that. You’re smart, funny, warm—the kind of woman who deserves someone who’s not broken. Someone who could give you everything. He can’t do that, and even if he could, there’s always the nagging thought in the back of his mind: She doesn’t love me.

But still...

Sam watches Bucky’s face soften when you laugh, the sound of it carrying across the room, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, I don’t think she’d be looking at you like that if she didn’t care.”

Bucky flicks his gaze to his friend, irritation flaring. “She doesn’t.”

Sam grins, unimpressed. “Yeah, that’s why she makes every excuse to spend time with you. Why she’s always the first to check in on you when you’ve had a rough day, right? Real smooth, Bucky.”

Bucky doesn’t have an answer to that. He can’t refute it. You do check in on him more than anyone else. You’ve been there when he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares got too loud. You never once backed away, even when he tried to shut you out.

But that doesn’t mean you love him.

It just means you’re kind.

A movement catches his eye, and he sees you standing up, the guy still holding your attention. But something’s different. You look… frustrated. Not with him, but with the situation. A second later, you excuse yourself from the conversation.

And just like that, he’s on his feet, against his better judgment. Sam’s chuckle is muted by the buzz of the bar around them, and Bucky makes his way toward you.

You’re standing by the bar, drink in hand, face soft with the kind of smile that could knock the breath out of him. “Hey,” you greet, almost shyly.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice is gruff, though it’s not intentional. His brain’s already scrambled, trying to come up with something to say that won’t make him sound like a fool.

“Want to talk?” You gesture toward a quieter corner, your voice gentle but firm.

“Uh... yeah. Sure.”

You lead the way, and Bucky follows, taking a slow breath as you both settle into a secluded booth. The music is still loud, but here, the noise feels muffled, like the world has slowed down for just the two of you.

You take a sip of your drink and then look at him. “You’re tense.”

Bucky laughs bitterly. “It’s nothing. Just…” He rubs a hand over his face, then focuses on your eyes. “I don’t know. The usual.”

“The usual?” You tilt your head, eyes narrowing with concern. “You’ve been a little off for the past couple of weeks. Something’s bothering you.”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. “I’m just… I’m fine, okay?” He almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

But you aren’t having it. “Bucky,” you say softly. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

It stirs something deep in his chest, a tenderness he’s not sure how to process. He doesn’t want to open up. Not when it’s so damn easy to say nothing and keep it all locked up. But looking at you, he can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

“Why do you even bother with me?” His voice cracks slightly, and he hates it, but he doesn’t care. “I’m not the guy you need. You’ve got better options. People who are better for you than someone like me.”

You blink at him, clearly thrown off. “Bucky…”

“I’m serious. I’m broken. I don’t—” He stops himself, the words hanging in the air like a confession he doesn’t want to make.

But you reach out, placing a hand over his, grounding him with the warmth of your touch. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be anything other than who you are.”

Bucky looks at you, his breath catching in his throat. “You don’t get it. You deserve someone whole.”

You hold his gaze, unblinking. “You’re more than whole, Bucky. You’ve been through things no one should ever have to go through, and you’re still here. That makes you stronger than anyone I know.”

A silence settles between you, thick and laden with something unspoken. He’s about to say something—he doesn’t know what yet—when you squeeze his hand gently.

“I don’t know why you think I don’t love you,” you say softly, the words a whisper but clear enough to make his heart stop in his chest.

Bucky freezes, his mind scrambling for a logical response. His voice barely escapes his throat. “You… you love me?”

You smile at him, a soft, knowing smile that melts the edges of his doubt. “I’ve always loved you, Bucky.”

It’s like the room blurs for a moment, the realization crashing down on him like a wave he didn’t see coming. You love him. You actually love him.

And maybe, just maybe, for once, he wasn’t as stupid as he thought.

Without another word, he pulls you into his arms, the weight of everything lifting just enough for him to breathe, to finally believe in the words you just said.

“I’m an idiot,” he mutters into your hair.

You laugh softly. “Yeah, but you’re my idiot.”

Bucky grins, his heart full for the first time in years. “And I’m never letting you go.”

He doesn’t care if it’s foolish. He doesn’t care about anything except the fact that, for once, he’s the one who’s finally loved.

[luckykiwiii101]

SLEEPING MONSTROSITY

| | IF THIS DOESN’T WAKE YOU UP, NOTHING WILL | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི you might just live this life forever…ouch ཋྀ

And for you extra failure desensitised east siders -> CLICK ME!

Hey Upper East Siders.

Lately i’ve been thinking about how big of failure you are. And how you keep coming up with more stupid questions to ask bloggers because you can’t accept that life is just easy. I’d call you sleeping beauty, but unlike you, she actually woke up.

I want you to ask yourself how it feels knowing that even though you have all the power, you still don’t have the will to save yourself. Yet you think it’s all going to be okay. You still think you’re going to eventually manifest your dream life, and that this nightmare will come to an end.

Pardon my harsh words but that’s pathetic. Why? Because you told yourself the same thing months ago, and look where you are. You haven’t gotten anywhere. You may understand the law better but you haven’t done anything with it. And knowledge is useless when it’s held by…well, you. A lazy, hopeless, pathetic dreamer.

What actually makes you think that you’re going to be living your dream life by the time it hits 2027. You’re just staying still, and you’re going to continue to. You’re not on an escalator, you’re on a treadmill. Getting absolutely nowhere.

And as i’ve said before, leave those Pinterest boards on Pinterest. I can’t imagine how painful it must be to doom fully stare at something you know you’ll never give yourself. And save your dreams for nap time because that’s the closest you’ll ever get to seeing them.

The amount of people that have left this app, without their dream lives…and you’re just going to end up being another one of them. Another day you take to procrastinate turns into a week, then into a month, 6 months, a year, two years, five years…twenty.

“I’ll persist later!!!” Yes. Exactly. You’ll persist “later.” Later as in, next week? next month? next year? Seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, months turn in to years, and years turn into decades, and decades turn into small little segments of your tragic little life, spent doing what? Trying? Procrastinating? Sulking? Or living the life of your dreams? Call it Russian roulette, but YOU’RE the one holding the gun to your head. Nowhere to run.

“I’ll try to enter the void state again tonight.” Yes. Exactly. You’ll TRY again. And you’ll try again the night after that, and the night after that, and the night after that. and so on…and so on…

But you know what’s the most shocking of all? The fact that you actually believe that everything is going to be okay. “I know i’ll win in the end.” Are you sure? Because you don’t win by staying the same. And that’s all you’ve been doing since forever.

You’re going to wake up tomorrow and make the same decision you’ve been making all your life. You’re going to deliberately and willingly choose to be someone you don’t want to be. As usual. Because that’s what’s comfortable to you. What can I say. You’re only human. And that’s all you’ll ever be.

But for someone like Blair Waldorf, failure is the end of the world. Because she’s uncomfortable with something she isn’t used to experiencing. But it’s only if she gets used to it, that she gets comfortable, and starts to let it in. And take over her. Sound familiar? Because it’s exactly what you’ve been doing to yourself. You’re so desensitised to failure that you read wake up calls in your sleep. Shrug them off, and move on. As if the words on this screen aren’t literally your reality.

If this doesn’t make your heart sink, i’m not sure what will. For some, the pain of knowing this might be too intense to ignore, for most of you, you’ll feel nothing. Your desensitisation to failure will be the death of you. What have you done to yourself…

Ouch!

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[fairestwriting]

Hello 👋 could I please request headcanons for leona's fem s/o defending him everytime one of the other characters start making backhanded comments to his face (if you've seen some of the vignettes you'll know what I mean) she doesn't reveal things like he's depressed or anything (tho he is) she just tells them it's shitty of them calling him lazy/selfish constantly without even knowing him personally

[Everyone treats leona like crap and I take personal offense to it >:( ]

You know i make fun of him on a regular basis. but theres a line thats gotta be drawn when it comes to leona bullying. cause damn this guy needs a real Break he cant even have issues in peace

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Before you got closer to him, there’s a fair chance the comments didn’t even stand out to you at all. It always felt a little unfair, yes, but not in a way that was particularly shocking, they were all just rude comments like any other. Back when you weren’t quite friends yet, and maybe even at the start of your friendship, you might have interjected with a simple ”hey, he’s not that bad” or "you don’t need to be rude about it”. It was just a gesture of basic politeness then, something the people around you seemed to lack.

But obviously, your perception of those interactions, and the way you see Leona’s situation itself, soon went through a rather radical change. Possibly even before you two started dating, or even before he “told you too much” — His own words, mumbled dismissively but bitterly, the day he came back after spending a weekend with his family and then proceeded to complain for a little longer than usual — As he warmed up to you, you started to notice things about him more. You started to see the spark of actual passion he has in his eyes during his club activities, the level of detail he gets into when analyzing things, the precise way he moved his chess pieces when you two played...

Above all, though, you started to notice how he often looked actually tired when he took part in any of the “slacking” he’s so infamous for. Learning the littlest bit more about his family life just worked as the final piece of the puzzle you’d been putting together without even noticing — And then, other people’s “rudeness” started to sound like something much more cruel. It didn’t help that he never seemed to react to it whenever he overheard others gossiping, or whenever you told him about the things you heard. “Why doesn’t he care?” The thought would echo in your mind for ages, trying to understand him through the tiny slivers of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

Now, as his girlfriend, you feel you just can’t let people say whatever they want, and you feel it more strongly than you ever have. ”Why don’t you mind your own business instead of talking about someone you don’t really know?” You snap back on instinct when one of your classmates, who was in Savanaclaw, comments on how lazy their dorm leader is. Their mouth closes instantly, regardless if you’ve made your relationship public or not — You realize that, on top of all the negative treatment Leona got, it was also extremely rare for others to defend him in any way at all. Enough that even a response that simple elicits shock from others.

”You know, it’s crazy to see you hanging out with Leona like that. I never thought I'd see anyone get so excited to spend time with him.” You hear some other day, while spending time in Savanaclaw’s common area, sat right next to Leona, and it just makes your blood boil. He’s just half-glaring at your particularly cocky acquaintance, sighing like he’s heard it a million times before, which you know he probably has. ”Hey, make sure you don’t get too influenced, we don’t need another person who just sleeps all day—”

”Yeah, you’re right. This type of person can be such a pain. I’m so glad I don’t know anyone who’s, you know, actually like that.” You say through grit teeth, just barely holding back aggression, and in the corner of your vision, the subtle flash of surprise in Leona’s face only encourages you to continue. ”Imagine if like, the Magift team had this sort of player in it… the club would be done for.”

They stare at you with wide eyes, having very much picked up on the aggression. The entire room is silent, you refuse to break eye contact, arms firmly crossed. ”Well, I mean…” The student stammers, but then, Leona himself speaks up for once. ”Did you not get her message? You need me to tell you to shut up instead?” He snaps, and they frantically shake their head, eyes fixed on the ground. You feel pride swelling in your chest, almost unable to hold back your smile.

”You know, Herbivore, if I needed a bodyguard I’d already have one.” He tells you later, in that same day. His tone has that snarky edge that feels like his default, but it’s much less pronounced than usual. You can even see a sort of softness in his eyes while he tries to play it cool. But needing and deserving are two different things, you think. As interactions like these repeat, with you defending him every time, you hope your message fully gets through to him, one day.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[talkingaboutmybullshit]

quick unedited thing i wrote after i saw a bitches love me tiktok about Tim in the 90s. And kinda a response to a lot of fandom tim thinking he’s a loser that hasn’t dated or slept with anyone when canonically he’s had like 20 live interests.

“Why are you asking boy Virgin over here?” Jason said

“Jason don’t be mean,” Dick chided

“What because it’s true,” Jason flipped Dick off

Tim couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Why the hell are you laughing like you’ve gotten laid ever in your life?”

“Did you forget that him and Steph dated for a year,”

“I don’t think I was there for that? Is that why she hangs out around us because she dated the shrimp? She’s to cool for him.”

Tim made a so so motion with his hand “Officially for like a year ish. Then we kinda had this on and off thing for a few years after that. Though she wasn’t the only girl I got with during that time. I was actually dating another girl when I first got with Steph,”

“How the hell did you get not one but two girls interested in you?” Jason asked “How the hell did you even have time for that?”

“Look when I was Robin and in high school I had a lot more extra time than I have now,” Tim explained and then scrunched up his face at the memories “and that wasn’t one of my proudest moments,”

“Honestly I don’t know how you can even keep track of how many people you been with,” Dick rolled his eyes “I swear you were talking to another girl every week before you got with Bernard,”

“Oh I got a spread sheet,” Tim answered non chalently

“You got a whole ass spread sheet?!?” Jason said

“Yeah,” Tim at least looked sheepish

“Why?” Jason ask

“Well back in high school me and my friends were talking-“

“You have friends?” Jason asked

“Well back in high school at least I had a decent amount. Then I dropped out and went around the world looking for B. I kinda got out of touched with them. You know the normal post high school kinda stuff,”

“Totally,” Said the guy who died Freshman year of high school

“Anyways,” he rolled his eyes “They were asking me how many girls i slept with and honestly I didn’t know off the top of my head. So I went home, started a list. Then that kinda morphed into a spread sheet because that’s easier to manage than like a google doc. Then I was like well I have a spread sheet I can document like umm,” he looked away trying to figure out how best way to say it without being to crass “bases and stuff I got to. Then I kinda just kept up with it over the years. Started a guys data section too since bases work a little differently and-“

“You’re a freak, of course you have a spreadsheet about your sex life,” Jason said “forget I said anything and never answer questions about sex again,”

“Gladly,” Tim shakes his head wanting this whole thing to be over

“I’m surprised you didn’t know this,” Dick said “Not the spread sheet thing but Tim ummmm…”

“Apparently getting with everything that moves,” Jason answered

“Yeah that,”

“Hey!” Tim objected “I do not. Plus I think the worse of it was when Jason wasn’t around. I had more time when I was young,”

“Dude you’re still like 20,”

“Plus I got a boyfriend now so I’m settled downed. I’m busy with work and being a vigilante,”

“Never stopped you before,”

Tim cringed at that “ok high school me wasn’t the best but-“

“When the fuck did you get a boyfriend,” Jason, who just had his twentieth revelation about Tim that hour, asked

“Oh a while ago when I rescued him from this pain cult,” Tim waved him off “we were friends in high school and reconnected after that. Really I think he brings out the best in me-“

“Meaning he hasn’t gotten bored yet from a lack of adrenaline and gone on to the next person who catches his eye,”

Tim huffed “I do not want to hear any slander from the guy who fumbled Starfire,”

“You fumbled Superboy,” Dick said

“When did you even get Superboy?” Jason exacerbated by Tim’s way to messy love life. Maybe the spread sheet was necessary. Jason at least needed a time line to get this straight.

“There was nothing even going on there!” Tim said

Dick turned to Jason to answer this question “Superboy was Tim’s first gay situation ship,”

“Was not!” Tim fought back

Jason groaned accepting he opened Pandora’s box of Tim’s messy love life.

[kashimos-hajime]

—a man | s.r.

summary: "what we need, sweetheart, is a man."

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

a/n: for context, inarizaki is being placed in nishinomiya for the sake of this fic | part of the undateable series

masterlist

The lunch bell shrieks and the students all around give a grumble as they pour back into the class room. You’re in the midst of putting your lunch box away, but the question Mina, your near and dear friend, poses you has your face akin to a woman who’s got sliced lemons wedged into her cheeks. “No, no, I’m fine not dating anyone right now. Akio just dumped me—” you count on your fingers— “two, or, three? Weeks ago.”

“Ugh, but that was nothing. You don’t even care, so why not come with me?” she pleads, clasping her hands and leaning on your desk. “I promise, it’s not going to be bad. Just one date. A double date. That handsome boy from Kujirami we saw from the spring party asked me out to see a movie in Kobe, and it’ll be so lame if I have to go by myself. I’m sure he has a cute friend!”

“I guess?” Your voice, tinged with doubt, twangs when you wince and you search for an excuse, glancing around the room as casually as you can. The teacher's behind his desk, re-organizing his papers, and you agonize over the minutes he takes. Couldn’t he cut class conversation short, for once? “But I don’t want to transit to Kobe from Awaji on the weekend. It’s so much time, and I have to work. Maybe if it were afterschool?”

“Would Friday work?”

You try not to curse to Mina’s face. “Maybe… but it’s the end of the school week. I’d, y’know, wanna go home. And Thursday is like... we have homework. And stuff.” At your friend’s crestfallen expression, you quickly add, “I wouldn’t want to third-wheel your date anyway. If I’m there, and his friend’s there, we might end up talking to each other rather than our dates.” 

A pout flashes across her face. “If they can't keep us interested, then they’re not good enough for us. Didn't you say on your first date with Inoue-san, he didn't say a single word? And we know how that turned out."

“Well, don’t take a page out of my book. Every time I give a guy a chance, they’re just not…" You don't exactly want to linger on all your failures at the moment. "Well, just give him a chance, and don't look for the bad stuff. You know, sometimes first dates, the nerves get in the way.”

“Is that what you tell yourself, too? 'Cause if you have no luck, I can't imagine what I've got going for me. Ugh, I'm so sick of boys!" Mina shoots to her feet with a new, ferocious light in her stare as she flexes her arm, patting the bicep with a sharp smile. “What we need, sweetheart, is a man.”

“A man,” you snort, laughing. “As if those exist.”

“You never know.” The chair squeaks as Mina finds her seat again. Twisting around, she sends you a wink. “Think about it, won’t you?”

“I will,” you agree. Reaching down into your bag, you feel a shadow fall across your figure, and you crane your head up at the boy standing before you. Suna Rintarou is staring down at you as if you’re the one in his way, but you can't possibly be so, and he's most definitely in the wrong section of the classroom.

“Hey.” 

You only straighten up, withdrawing your English notebook and dusting off your desk quickly. “Hi.” Picking out your favourite pencil, you adjust the layout of your desk, and take a quick sip of water before realizing Suna’s still standing there, tapping on his phone, and you look at him again. “Can I help you?”

He withdraws something from his pocket—a cleanly folded piece of paper—but doesn’t even meet your gaze. A flicker of irritation licks at your stomach. “Osamu wanted to give this to you.”

“What is it?”

“From our volleyball meeting.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“He volunteered you to fill our manager spot since Shiri-san won’t be coming back this year. It’s the form.” 

Taking it, you open your mouth to ask another question but he’s already walking to the back of the class, and you frown, eyes trailing after the boy who sits down and pulls out his phone, already slouched over and half-hidden by the person sitting in front of him. Ridiculous.

With a huff, you face forward again. The paper crinkles as you see your name already written at the top in Osamu’s slanted writing, but the teacher is calling for the class’s attention (of course, now is when he decides that his paper stacks are straight enough), and the idea is pushed to the back of your head with a firm, resounding answer.

No way.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances 7

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist

Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 3100

Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul. 

The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. 

You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost. 

Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension. 

Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.” 

You nod. 

“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast. 

You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet. 

“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words. 

“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour. 

Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.” 

But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway. 

“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.” 

Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved. 

“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.” 

But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out. 

Some twisted hierarchy. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat. 

“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice. 

All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze. 

You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”

“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”

Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”

The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack. 

Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise. 

You turn instinctively, your mind racing.

Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast. 

Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office. 

The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him. 

You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare. 

He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes. 

“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet. 

He shakes his head. 

You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?” 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…” 

You let him stumble over his words. 

“I… that was impolite… of me.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions. 

Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.

“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.” 

Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.

“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.” 

“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?” 

His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”

You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him. 

Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.

Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?

“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark. 

Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips. 

Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip. 

“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak. 

You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”

“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering. 

“Never interrupt me.” 

His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core. 

You watch him with hard eyes. 

“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”

“I thought we were past this.” 

He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before. 

You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”

You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck. 

As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying. 

“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look. 

He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down. 

“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”

He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”

You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe. 

“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there. 

“It’s alright.” 

He nods. “Thank you.” 

Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears. 

He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. 

He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh. 

“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh. 

He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button. 

Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles. 

“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.” 

“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap. 

“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek. 

You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”

“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton. 

You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive. 

He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you. 

He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds. 

He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit. 

He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself. 

You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful. 

“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides. 

You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.

Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back. 

You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you. 

“Seeing you cry turns me on.” 

“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.

You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?” 

He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.

“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods. 

“Please.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.” 

You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls. 

“Ready?” 

He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force. 

But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had. 

He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.” 

You smack him. Harder this time. 

He turns quickly. “Again.”

Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Agai-”

Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.

Smack.

He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls. 

He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily. 

You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms. 

He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy. 

He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself. 

“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.” 

“Blue-”

“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?” 

You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue. 

You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans. 

Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head. 

He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan. 

“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.” 

You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.

You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture. 

He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality. 

“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves. 

But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless. 

“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening. 

He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-

You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being. 

You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can. 

You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover. 

Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come. 

Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs. 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

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[cal-daisies-and-briars]

OOOOOOOOO NEW EMOJI❣️❣️❣️❣️

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

HEY! <3

As you know, TWATK is complete, but here are the rest <3

45 for 🗻:

---

The thought is pretty exciting, actually. He finds himself excited to see little pieces of Buck in another human. Hell, he’s seen them start to develop in Chris, over the years. So a kid with fifty percent Buck DNA? That’s gotta come with some considerable personality quirks. Meant adoringly, of course. 

“Mm,” Maddie shakes her head as she finishes chewing a bite of food. ‘Buck’s thing at that age was jokes. He’d memorize joke books from the library and try them on everyone he encountered.”

Eddie snorts. “Why am I not surprised?”

“So what you’re saying is,” Buck points a fork at her playfully. “I am now, and have always been, a naturally gifted comedian?”

Maddie frowns. “I don’t think I said that.”

“I don’t think anyone would say that,” Chim adds.

Christopher laughs brightly. He’s at the age where he doesn’t always engage in conversations; preferring his phone and his friends. Eddie is happy to see him involved, even a little bit. They’ve been sort of isolated from their family since Eddie brought Chris back to Los Angeles. It’s been confusing Chris, for sure. He loves his grandparents. He doesn’t understand why they were so angry about Eddie and Chris reconnecting, or Chris going home. They’ve been sort of cold to him since - a lesson Eddie never wanted Chris to learn. 

Thankfully, Maddie and Chim heard the situation, and immediately started treating Christopher like he’d been their nephew all along. Birthday gifts, open invitations to whatever family things they do, genuine interest when they ask him questions. Eddie is really fucking grateful for them. 

It is in the middle of Eddie appreciating Christopher’s burst of laughter, that Buck reaches for his phone in his pocket. He reads it, and his face goes pale.

“Oh, come on,” Chim teases him. “Don’t look so sad. If you try standup, we’ll only heckle you a little.”

“Uh, no…” Buck mumbles. “I-I have to go.”

Eddie straightens in his chair. “Baby?”

Buck nods. “Yeah. Text just says I should probably come to the hospital now.” 

“Oh my god, go!” Maddie insists. “Go, go, go. Don’t worry, we’ll drive Eddie and Chris home.”

---

111 for 🦮:

---

“Alright,” Eddie laughs. “Alright, enough. You’ll rip it. Out. Drop it.”

Out is when you’re going to give it back to her, drop it is when she’s never going to get it back again, Buck’s voice runs through his head. 

“Drop it,” Eddie repeats.

Cranberry stills and opens her jaw reluctantly, spitting out the band. She looks rather put out to stop her mischief.

“Menace,” he says to her, examining the band. 

Eddie examines the band. There is a tooth puncture. 

“You owe me,” he tells her. “Gonna have to take it out of your kibble allowance.”

She wags her tail again, a little slower. 

Eddie crumples up the band and sits on the floor beside her. She crawls onto his lap and lays down flat. Eddie pets her in long, gentle strokes, from the top of her skull, down her spine, to her tail.

He’s spent the past few therapy sessions around one central discussion. That it has taken him a month to feel any sort of relief. Any sort of appreciation or gratitude for his life. It’s not that he was disappointed that he didn’t die. Obviously not that. But he spent weeks waiting to feel glad he didn’t, and he couldn’t summon that. His therapist said that that’s normal. That lots of people who go through trauma experience this sort of thing. That it doesn’t make him ungrateful or a bad partner or father. That as long as he keeps working on it, slowly, it’ll come back to him. Even if some of this experience will always be with him. 

And here he is now. On the floor with Cranberry, exhausted and sore and feeling like he’s been put on a stretching rack, but happy. Glad. Amused, even. 

Cranberry takes a big breath. He can feel her heartbeat on his legs. 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t die,” he whispers to the dog. 

🦮🦮🦮

Later that afternoon, Eddie picks Chris up from school. Buck gets home not long after the two of them. Eddie has already started getting stuff ready for dinner. He’s experiencing a weird and unexpected burst of energy. 

“Hey,” Buck says cautiously, walking into the kitchen. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Eddie smiles, crossing the space to kiss him hello. “You?”

Buck just sort of stares at him. “Uh…”

“Not good?” Eddie frowns. “Something happen?”

“No, no,” Buck shakes his head. “Uh, work was fine. Your day was good?”

“Yeah!” Eddie confirms. “But your dog put a hole in my resistance band, and I don’t go back to physio for four more days, so if I have permanent shoulder issues, we’re blaming the golden retriever.”

“Wow, uh. Sorry about that, but-”

“It’ll be fine,” Eddie dismisses it. “Do you know my shoulder is doing well enough to play a quick game of tug with physiotherapy equipment?”

Buck laughs a little breathlessly. “I’m so glad you had a good day.”

And Eddie just… He sees it. He sees it all in Buck’s eyes. The weeks and weeks of worrying. Of wondering. Of feeling powerless but being a stalwart caregiver nonetheless. A new little spark of hope, that things are getting better. 

Eddie steps forward and hugs him. Both arms. As tight as his injured shoulder can handle. 

“I love you,” he says. “And I don’t say thank you enough.”

“I love you, too,” Buck says, squeezing him back. “You don’t have to thank me, though. We have each other’s backs. Always, right?”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hear how much I appreciate it,” Eddie says. 

Buck takes a deep breath. “Thank you.”

vi.

If you charted Eddie’s good day to bad day ratio after that, it wouldn’t look very impressive. At least not at first. He doesn’t just hit a corner and cheer up. But it does go from every day being bad, to sometimes, he has a good day to punctuate the streak. A few more weeks and it begins to feel more even. And then, slow and agonizingly, Eddie is baseline okay to good more often than not. 

He goes back to work. Light duty. Boring stuff, but not nothing. He feels useful again. He feels like he can spend his brain’s still incomplete tank of mental energy on something other than himself and his shit. Which is good. He feels clearer. Less bogged down. 

By the time he’s getting ready to recertify, and get back to his work, he’s decided. No more waiting for a nebulous better. No more waiting for what feels like an appropriate amount of time post-Shannon to pass. Eddie is ready now.  He wants to ask Buck to marry him. He’s going to do it. Because life is fucking short and unpredictable and Eddie is happy to be here to get the chance to do something he almost missed out on.

[4lexnilsen]

“a monster.   oh,  boo-hoo,  i’m a monster now because i don’t do as you say.”   daddy would be here if he only knew she needed him.   she simply didn’t have the time to send him an S-O-S.   he rolls his eyes,  biting the comment back when these dark brown eyes flicker up to meet his with an emotion that he can’t quite decipher…   rage?   betrayal?   train of thought lost on him as she delivers a mike tyson worthy punch,  nearly making him trip.   his hand immediately flies up to touch the sore spot,  the thick fabric of his puffer jacket served as a cushion,  an additional layer of protection,  but his muscles are still burning underneath.   nerve endings on fire.   his eyes well up with unwanted tears.   “what the fuck’s that for?!   i was just trying to make you look presentable.   right now you could pass for pennywise’s little sister,”   he sneers,  rubbing his arm and blinking away his tears.   “stop it,”   he mocks in a high-pitched voice,  shaking his head because she’s just too dramatic.   he hasn’t done anything to her.   

“i was just trying to help you,  you priss!”   he says loudly,  laughing when she grabs a fistful of his sweater and pulls him down to her level.   it’s only when she takes a hold of his other arm,  moving so fast that he can’t even react before it’s too late,  that he shuts up.   giggles turning into screams of pain.   electric current racing through his arm,  radiating from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder.   he begins to squirm and considers stepping on her foot to make her let go,  but she’s loosening up.   this time,  he just stays quiet,  rubbing his abused limb and glaring at her.   fucking bitch.   she could have broken his arm.   “you think you can just threaten me?”   he feigns confidence to save what’s left of his pride,  even if deep down he’s pretty intimidated.   “i’ll say what i want and we’ll see who gets to keep their teeth.”   what if he said that she’d been sleeping around with him?   yeah,  okay,  harry might try to punch him,  but he’s not really all that scared of harry…   besides,  something tells him that ugly boar would direct his anger at her rather than him.

lingering beside the raven-haired girl’s side as she lunges at one of harry’s idiot friends next,  alex can’t help but lift his brows and whistle at the revelation.   harry leaving with another woman?   what a surprise!   his arm is still burning,  joints sore where she’d twisted them,  and he should feel no compassion towards her but…   suddenly,  it all begins to make sense.   so harry really is cheating on her.   must be why she assumes she’s doing sarah a favor by exposing his behavior.   must be why she thinks he’s incapable of staying faithful.   it makes his heart feel all weird,  heavy and fluttery at the same way.   his stomach twisting when he catches a glimpse of her expression.   “give me that,”   he grumbles,  unceremoniously slipping his hand into the pocket of her coat,  pulling out her car keys.   it might be her father’s car,  but he refuses to trust her to get them to wherever harry’s having his fun at safely.   he’s not letting her drive.   “hey,  you!”   he calls out after the guy,  whatever his name is.   “where’d he go?   where can we find harry?   her father has some really urgent message to pass on to him.   it really can’t wait till tomorrow,”   he fibs,  unsure why he’s still here,  trying to help helena uncover her boyfriend’s infidelity when he should be on his way back home.   he doesn’t even have to say anything,  looks like their relationship’s about to get flushed down the drain.   there’s his payback.   too bad it doesn’t taste so sweet,  after all.

"is daddy here, right now, helping me deal with a monster? no." the raven haired girl snaps, eyes immediately become widened at gravity or alex's strength yanking her back. as if that wasn't enough to get her blood pressure sky rocketing– the material of his shirt is roughly digging into her skin causing her face to hurt and burn that she's shoving away with a quick turn of her face. at this point, believing he's trying to suffocate her. her fist balling, SLAMMING it into his bicep once they're inside the lounge blaring loud pop music that he's dragging her into by her arm. "STOP IT," yelling over top of it, eyes serious and angry as she seethes and stares up at him, "i'm not your rag doll you can just SHOVE around," hand clutches onto his shirt, yanking him down here. other hand grabbing his hand that's wrapped around her small arm and twisting his backwards, pressing hard on that sensitive pressure point she knows where to dig her thumb into thanks to a lot of time put into self defense to bring a lot of pain, "put your hands on me one more time and i will snap your wrist like a twig." it's already been thought about, no one else would've hesitated this long and she shouldn't even do so now after he had the audacity to put his grimy hands on her like that and jerk her backwards by her coat. "it would do you better to keep your mouth shut." still twisting hard, teeth gritting, "harry's not going to believe you anyway and if you open your mouth... you might lose a few teeth." when she rams her fist in his jaw, that's not a threat, that's a promise.

"hey helena! what are you doing heree?" a drunken slur of one of harry's friends gets her attention, having her quickly spinning on her heel. "wait. you are helena..." the blond points out and causes her confusion, "yeah?" what does that mean exactly? "oh, that's weird." he chuckles, holding his drink in hand, "why's that weird?" she questions, to which she earns hesitation before he finally comes back and blurts, "beee-cause. harry just left. some time ago. can't 'member... with another dark haired girl. juss' like you?" that causes her heart to drop, feeling the heaviness of it SINKING deep into the pits of her belly. "what do you mean? when?" then he pretends he didn't just unload that on her and starts to turn, to which helena reaches out and yanks her next victim by the shirt for the second time tonight, "when?" she demands this time. "ohhh jee-sus, okaay. okay. umm," swallowing, harry's going to kick his ass now, trying to squirm out of his feisty girlfriend's grip. her hands just grip TIGHTER. "ten! ten minutes ago but don't tell 'im okay? don'ttt." letting his shirt go now, he runs off and she's left silent with mixed emotion creasing her brows. calculating what to do next. after one more second of thought, taking her phone out of her jacket, contemplating if she should call, text or... another option.

[dddalgiiiiiii]

I JS FOUND YOUR BLOG AND ILY ALREADY DSAIFKHASLIDUFAHSLIEFJEAWHLFIDAW could you perchance (JUST PERCHANCE) write possessive yeji?(plot is up to you) JUST PERCHANCE YKWIM

IDK HOW TO WRITE POSSESSIVE???

pay more attention to me..?

idolyeji x 6thmemberreader

there's smut!! right at the beginning!! and the end!!! ..

how did it get to this point?

laying in bed, the love of your life towering over you with her lips pressed against yours, her hands teasingly running along your body, her fingertips brushing just barely over your hardened nipples with soft gasps and moans escaping from your lips, a wetness dripping from your core.

yeji pulls away, a smug and annoying smirk painted across her face, her thumbs moving in circular motions on your peaks. “hey, jagi..” you look at her through your eyelashes, a drop a sweat dripping down your temple “wh..at..”

“how much do you love me?” you don’t even find the time to respond before her lips are crashing against yours once again, both your lips moving against the other's in a passionate duel for dominance, although, yeji always wins in the end.

so again, how did it get to this point?

you didn't realise it, but it probably started before the sun even rose that morning. 5am, in the company dorms, yeji had begun to wake everyone up as they had a tight schedule, until she got to you and ryujin's shared dorm.

now, all of the itzy members knew that there was a little more going on between you and yeji than what was spoken, but until anything was officially announced to the group, it didn't stop them from flirting with either you or yeji, but you trusted each other, right?

she tiptoed over to your bed, quietly, hoping to get a few quick kisses and cuddles before waking up ryujin, so when she noticed that you weren't in your bed, she was confused. taking out her phone to message you, she thought that maybe you went to the bathroom or went to go do something else.

bzzt- a vibration and notification sound came from ryujins bed, to which she responded to with a tilt of her head. she walked over to ryujin's side of the dorm, not even caring to try to silence her footsteps and slid the blankets off, revealing two people, you and ryujin, her arms wrapped around you with your head resting on her chest.

yeji made a tsk sound through her teeth before gently nudging you and ryujin awake before throwing the rest of the blanket onto the floor. "get up" you felt ryujin unravel her arms from around you, lifting you gently so you're sitting up, ryujin sitting up and sliding off the bed shortly after and heading to the bathroom to get ready without saying a word.

yeji's eyes narrow as they follow ryujin out the room, and she shuts the door behind her, leaning her back against the shut door as she crosses her arms and pokes the inside of her mouth with her tongue, the dim light of a lamp illuminating her face, which is giving you an "are you gonna give me an explanation?" look.

you blink your eyes open slowly, "mmh?" you run your hands through your hair, her eyes following your every movement. she stares at you, before opening her mouth to speak "so..? what was that about?" she uncrosses her arms, her hands falling to her sides as she questions you.

"what was what about?" you respond to her, not having the slightest clue what she was talking about. "the whole cuddling thing." she makes a vague gesture with her hand towards the bed where you were sat, you get up and head towards your own side, falling face first into your plush sheets, "we just got back from practising late, and it was cold." your voice muffled slightly in the sheets, but it seemed like she got the idea of it from the sound of her approving hum.

you hear footsteps approaching behind you, and a dip in the bed next you. "so why didn't you just come to my room..?" she emphasises the "my", and although you can't see it, you can tell theres a pout on her face as she runs her hand through your hair, toying with the ends of it whilst her other hand slips under your nightshirt, resting on the bare skin of your back.

you let out a soft giggle, feeling her hand caressing your back gently "because you were sleeping.. i didn't wanna wake you.. and.. you know.. yuna was there too..” you place your hand on hers, removing her hand from under your shirt and rolling over onto your back. yeji, finally being able to see your face again, can't hold back, and she leans in to kiss you, a quick peck- too quick- too unsatisfying.

you wrap your hands around her neck, lifting your head to meet hers, your lips meet for a deeper kiss, yeji smiling as you two make contact, her hands failing to find their way to your waist, instead landing across your abdomen, causing you to both laugh and pull away from each other.

and with amazing timing, as the door swings open for ryujin and lia to walk in, chatting happily as they both get ready for the day. you both sit up, before ryujin flips the light switch and raises an eyebrow at you both. "looks like you two were busy" she laughs to herself before turning to face lia "you should go get ready" she leaves one more comment before turning her full attention onto lia, who's sitting on ryujin's bed, waiting to get her makeup done.

you nod, and yeji nods as you both head out of the room that you and ryujin shared. as you're walking to the bathroom, you pass by yuna and chaeryoung, who were sitting on the couch in the living room, seemingly already ready, except for the sheet mask that yuna was wearing.

yeji snakes an arm around your waist, giving a little pinch of your skin before patting your butt. "go ahead, i'll come later." you nod, waving at yuna and chaeryoung before you head off to the bathroom, and hearing yeji joining their conversation and scolding them for practising so late without her.

just as you're finishing up in the bathroom, you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist as a head rests on your shoulder. your hands instinctively reach for their hands as you call their name "yeji-?" your mouth snaps shut as you finally see who it is in the mirror. with a sheet mask still on her face she lets out a her signature cackle, teasing you "of course you would think i was yeji-unnie", she unfurls her arms from around you, stepping back and clapping her hands.

"shut up.." your left hand reaches up to rest on your face, attempting to hide an embarrassed expression. yuna smirks at you once again before leaning over the bathroom counter and stripping the mask from her face, rubbing in the extra gel that came from the mask. as you're watching her, you feel a shiver go down your spine and pair of eyes dangerously watching you, almost like how a lion may stalk its prey.

turning around, you see yeji, arms crossed and eyes narrowed just like earlier. you sharply inhale and smile at her, and quickly make your exit, but as you do, yeji swiftly grabs your wrist, pulling you halfway back into the doorway of the bathroom, juuuust out of yuna's view. "baby.." she whispers into your ear, a hand running up the underside of your shirt.

you let out a soft gasp at the feeling of her cold hand tracing up your back, her nails drawing patterns on your skin. "what.. is it..?" you bite your lip, your breathing coming out heavily as yeji runs her hand along your side, to along your abdomen to slide ever so slowly up your torso, finally resting it on the underside of your tit.

"hey- stop that.. yuna's gonna come out at any secon- ah-" your words are cut short by a sharp squeeze of your boob, yeji smirks "so let her.. let her see what's mine.." her voice lowered and you feel another shiver go down your spine, you rarely see yeji like this, but you can't help but feel... excited when you do.

you make a huff and puff out one side of your cheeks, turning your head and glancing behind you, you see that yuna has just finished whatever she was doing in the bathroom and has started to make her way out, tossing her hair over her shoulder and humming to herself.

you step away from yeji, her hand slipping out from under your shirt as she also pouts her lips, clearly annoyed. yuna stops a few steps away from the doorway, her face turning into a surprised look. "i thought you left already.. well.. let's go!, bye, unnie!" without another word yuna intertwines her fingers with yours, dragging you away towards the living area where everyone else is now waiting for the minibus to pick them up for their first scheduled event for the day.

"where's yeji?" ryujin questions the both of you, raising an eyebrow. "she's just in the bathroom.. probably won't be too much longer" you reply, releasing your grasp on yuna's hand and looking around to avoid the awkwardness in the room. "so uh- where are we going again?" "we're going to go film another episode of it'zzz.. did you forget?" lia mocks you in that annoying voice she always does with that dumb expression she has. "you're so annoying" you let out a groan, checking your watch.

"who's annoying, hm?" yeji's voice cuts through the air. its sharp and has an edge to it. everyone's head whips around to face yeji, who has a peeved expression on her face. "no one.." you squeak out, your fingers awkwardly toying with the hem of your shirt. "okay.." yeji claps her hand once, signalling for everyone's attention once again- even though she already has it- "let's go. the bus is down there already."

"yeees" the members nod and pick up their bags, heading out into the hallway to wait for the elevator down to the lobby. the drive to the event space was uneventful, save for the few times yeji would turn her head from the front seat with an irked face when a member would make you laugh a little too hard.

arriving at the event space, there were already paparazzi and journalists waiting outside, behind held back by the few guards that had been sent there ahead of time. "urg.. they're not supposed to be here.. how'd they even find out.." chaeryoung sighs, covering up with a scarf due to the cold weather- and to cover up her hair and makeup which hasn't been fully completed yet.

"let's go." yeji announces to the group, everyone else nodding as they file out of the vehicle. but as soon as you step out, you can feel an arm wrap around your waist, blinding flashes of light flickering in your eyes as it does. "be natural, it's just fanservice.." the owner of the arm talks through her teeth, her fox like eyes narrowing in a cheeky way, a deeper intention hiding behind her message as her hand rubs gently on your waist.

"mh.." you nod, and hum in agreement, waving to the paps. "y/n!! marry me!!", "y/n, youre the cutest!!" you hear them shouting these messages to you, and giggle, feeling yeji's grip on your waist tightening with every loving word the fans say.

"sorry midzy~ y/n is miine!" yeji responds, sticking out her tongue playfully. you smack her arm, and yeji strengthens her hold on you, smirking as she ushers the both of you into the building where the rest of the 4 girls were waiting for you.

"finally. you guys take forever." lia complains, wrapping her coat around herself and shivering. "chaeryoung already went to go get her makeup and stuff fixed, so we have to wait for her." ryujin points into the bigger room, "the staff are already in the directing space." yeji nods, "let's go then.. we can wait for chaeryoung inside."

you head inside first, taking off the jacket you were wearing and tossing it to the side carelessly, as lia and ryujin starts doing the same, yuna casually takes a seat on a nearby couch. "y/n, you can't just do that" yeji calls out from across the room, pointing a scolding finger at you. "but ryujin and lia did the same?!" you responded back, a hint of agitation in your voice from hearing the other 3 girls snickering.

"you realise that it's my jacket, right?", "huh?" your eyes fall to the jacket on the floor. "ah.." your face turns a dark shade of red, your ears becoming warmer as you swipe up the jacket and fold it neatly before placing it on a nearby table.

a few minutes later, chaeryoung returns fully dolled up. "sorry that took so long.. we can start now.." she walks in gingerly, a hand in her hair and blinking her eyes from the contacts she had put in.

throughout the filming of the video (think it'zzz - the x girl videos) yeji can't help but feel a twang of uneasiness in her chest. the way that the members would praise your dancing skills- or the way they'd tease you about your sleeping habits or the way you did your hair routine at night. she didn't like it, and she did a terrible job of hiding it by the way she was quiet the entire episode.

the last straw for her was during the chair game. there was one chair left and it was a game between you and ryujin, the members had hidden the chair away in a spot where you both couldn't see, but by the snickering and snorting, you definitely knew that you were close.

soon enough, you had found the chair. you rushed towards it, party hat over your face, but just as you were about to sit on it, you felt your butt land on a pair of thighs- laughing at the ridiculous situation, you decided to do some fan service and swung your arms around the persons neck. taking off your party hat, the person who stole your seat was none other than lia, laughing and hugging you tightly on her lap.

"you're so light! have you even been eating well?" lia chortled, bouncing you on her thighs, her fingers pinching at your stomach causing you to squeal and squirm around, your shirt riding up a little to reveal your abdomen.

this doesn't go unnoticed.

"y/n!" yeji quickly runs over and stands in front of you and lia, her back facing the camera and her arms flying out to the hem of your shirt, pulling it down to cover yourself properly. "lia.. be more careful.." she shoots a look at lia, her eyes narrowing without a care as shes facing away from the camera.

there was a shift in the air. the tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. "cut!" everyone's heads whipped to the director, "uh we'll finish up another time. we have another group coming in soon." yeji breathes in a sharp breath and bows, "thank you." she straightens her posture and reaches a hand towards you, locking fingers with yours and slides her unoccupied hand onto your back, supporting you as she helps you to get off lia's lap.

"let's go." and without another word, she picks up her jacket and drapes it across your shoulders, reaching her hand out towards you once again. she grasps it firmly in hers, and then brings it up to her lips to press long, soft kisses along your knuckles, making eye contact with the rest of the girls as she does.

“what are you.. doing..” you gulp, your breath hitching as you watch her leaving her lip marks all over the back of your hand. as you start to pull your hand away, yeji only tightens her grip. “you’re being weird today..” you mutter, and yeji looks at you with an… indescribable look in her eyes.

a look that leaves you with a tight knot in your stomach.

"im just.. claiming what's mine."

your breath gets caught in your throat.

"stop that." you spoke quietly but firmly. yeji ignores your request, and continues peppering kisses on the back of your hand before eventually stopping and bringing your hand to her side and walking off towards the main entrance. "let's go, everyone!" she calls out to the rest of the members one again without even looking back.

she pulls you closer and links her arm with yours, looking straight without even greeting the paparazzi as she takes you into a smaller car behind the minibus that the group always takes together. "yeji..? how come we're taking the car..?" you question her whilst buckling your seatbelt.

"the other four have something else going on, a practice for a special stage.. so i arranged a car for us so we can head back first to get some rest." she speaks out as if it was common sense.

“i see..” you mutter under your breath. “okay, we’re ready, manager-nim.” yeji smiles sweetly at her manager before sliding the separator between the front and back seats.

she rolls down the window to say goodbye to the other four members and wave at the paparazzi since she basically ignored them earlier. she then rolls the window back up.

“so.” she leans back into her seat, crossing one leg over the other and crossing her arms. “what’s been going on today, y/n?”. you stare at her, dumbfounded with your jaw hanging ajar. “huh?, yeji- i haven’t done anything?” she sucks her teeth, making a cht sound.

“you’ve been clinging onto literally everyone the whole day.” she uncrosses her arms, letting her hands fall into her lap. “is that what it looks like to you?” you lower your voice, not wanting the manager to listen. “because i swear, i didn’t mean for it to look like that..”

yeji sighs harshly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “i know, i know.. its just that sometimes it makes my heart hurt a little.. watching how close you are with everyone.”

you feel your heart rate quickening by the second, a sly smile teasing your lips as you place a hand on hers, resting on her thigh. “really..?” leaning forward to make eye contact with her.

she turns her head, her eyes meeting yours. “yeah…” she sheepishly says, bringing your hand to her lips to place a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles. “well.. i mean.. it’s not your fault but.. you know.. i love you the most.. so..”

you let out a soft, breathy laugh, turning your palm to gently caress her face, your thumb dragging across her bottom lip to rest on the corner of her lips. “you’re so cute sometimes..”

yeji doesn’t say anything, instead she habitually licks her lips before pressing them together into a thin line, just looking into your eyes as if there was nothing else to look at in the world, as if you were the most important thing in her life, which, to be honest, you were.

“you’re hard to stay upset at.” after a few seconds of staring, her eyes fall to your hands, which were locked together- almost moulded together like they were meant to be, a teeny tiny smile playing on her lips.

you feel the car come to a stop, the manager sliding down the separation and calling out to the two of you “okay, we’re here. i’ll come by tomorrow morning to pick you up, 7am, be ready.”, they then quickly slide up the separation, unlocking the doors for you both to get out and bow before making your way into the dorms, hand in hand.

as you walk into the elevator, you pull your hand away from yeji’s, blowing hot air into your palms. “its so cold..” she nods, placing her hands over the top of yours, blowing hot air onto both your hands. “it’ll be warmer if.. we hold hands.” smiling, you kiss the tips of her fingers, “you’re right..”

with a quick ding, you’re already on your dorms floor. yeji- being the leader that she is, steps out first, dragging you along behind her as if you’d get lost. she reaches into her handbag, fumbling around for a bit before pulling out a set of keys, picking one out from the bunch and inserting it into the door’s lock, twisting it and pushing it open, revealing itzy’s dorm.

she drops the key instinctively into a bowl kept on a table by the door, then slides her hand along the wall, flicking the light switch to illuminate the hallway before kicking off her shoes and stepping into some house slippers. she finally releases your hand from her grasp, kneeling down to assist you in taking off your shoes, and helping you slide into your own pair of house slippers.

“thanks…” the word sheepishly leaves your lips, earning a grin from yeji as she straightens herself up, her hand resting on your lower back. “you’re welcome.” she says, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “come on, you can room with me tonight, i already told yuna.” "sure.. though.. you're not really giving me a choice, are you?" she shakes her head, grabbing you by the hand and escorting you towards her and yuna's shared room "nope!, but.. it's not like you would say no anyways, right?"

you shake your head, smiling to yourself. "i guess i wouldn't". yeji swings open the door to the room, immediately shuffling towards her side of the closet to grab two pairs of matching pyjamas. "do you want the pink set or the purple set..?" she looks over her shoulder, waiting for your response, only to be met with a shrug. "okay.. i'll take the pink set then!" you nod, catching the set that she throws at you. "not that it matters, since it'll be coming off anyways." she mutters quietly under her breath, too quick for you to catch.

you head to the bathroom to change, and remove your makeup from the day. "move over~" you feel a bump on your hip, "ah- hey! i'm busy in here!" you then feel a pair of arms around your waist (deja vu?) and a head on your shoulder, along with the comforting feeling of a body being pressed on your back. "you know, i'm so grateful we debuted together.." you giggle, pushing her back slightly before turning in her arms.

"what's this? why are you being so... sentimental, hm?" you ask gently, cupping her face with both your hands. "it's nothiiiing... it's just... like.. you know... i just.. love you..? and well.. just sometimes i wish you would pay more attention to me." she looks at you through her eyelashes, a slight twinkle in her eyes before she kisses the tip of your nose once again.

"hm. is that so?" tapping the tip of her nose with your finger, you smile widely. "mhm.." "okaaayy... well guess what? no one else is here right now, soo.." you waggle your eyebrows "i can give you.. as much attention as you want.." wrapping your arms around her neck, you lean your back against the countertop of the bathroom sink, pulling her with you.

"perfect." she grins, pressing her lips firmly against yours, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you kiss her back, your lips moving together in a perfect, slow rhythm. the bathroom is soon filled with heavy breaths and soft laughing, yeji leaning her forehead against yours, rubbing the tip of her nose on yours, her hands resting on your hips.

“shall we?” you nod, feeling yeji place an arm around your shoulder and the other under your thighs, lifting you up with ease. she pecks your cheek quickly before practically running back towards her room. she shuts the door with her foot and with a little bit of struggle, manages to lock it with the arm that was holding your thighs.

“so strong..” she places you onto her bed, placing her knees and her hands on either side of you as you run your fingertips along her arms, barely grazing her skin. “of course. i have to be strong for my pretty girl.” she sits up, hovering just above you as she flexes her arms, forcing a small laughter out of you.

"you're so weird...", "you like it." she lowers her body juuust a little bit, planting her lips on yours once again, her hands making quick work to remove the pjs that you had just put on about 15 minutes prior. she lets out a small huff, "i told you that you didn't need these.." "i didn't think you meant litera- mmf" a cool breeze cut you off, the feeling of the coldness embracing you as yeji slid off the night shirt from your shoulders.

"cold, isn't it?" her breath is hot in your ear, a stark contract to the cool air in the room. your only response is a quiet whimper before she smacks her lips against yours. her hands teasingly running along your body, her fingertips brushing just barely over your hardened nipples with soft gasps and moans escaping from your lips, a wetness dripping from your core.

yeji pulls away, a smug and annoying smirk painted across her face, her thumbs moving in circular motions on your peaks. “hey, jagi..” you look at her through your eyelashes, a drop a sweat dripping down your temple “wh..at..”

“how much do you love me?” you don’t even find the time to respond before her lips are crashing against yours once again, both your lips moving against the other's in a passionate duel for dominance, though, yeji always wins in the end.

"i.. love you the most.. yeji." the words leave your mouth with heavy breaths in between, and a satisfied smile forms on her lips, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants, tugging them gently before removing them, along with your panties and tossing them aside carelessly.

"that's what i like to hear.." a shiver goes down your spine, and yeji wastes no time. she makes her way down your body, leaving long, lingering kisses along the way, drawing short breaths from you. she's sloppy, but shes careful, making sure not to kiss too heavily to ensure there's no... marks left behind. at least.. in the places where the public can see.

with that said, although she’s careful, she’s still ruthless, attacking you just under your boobs and along your ribcage, trying her best to control herself, in order to make sure her little marks of possession only last a few days instead of weeks.

she pauses at your stomach, and props her chin up on it and looks up at your, dragging her pointer finger along your skin. "i probably shouldn't leave anything here, right? it'd be a shame if people saw it." you nod, but you couldn't help but feel a blush creep up on your face, "well... it's not like i'd mind.. i mean.. i.. belong to you, right?" with those words you cover your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed "i'm- so sorry please forget i said that."

then you hear a small giggle and a pair of hands peeling yours away from your face, revealing yeji who's practically beaming at you. "no way i'd forget that.. that was.. so cute.." she kisses you, the smile never leaving her face as her hand runs lower on your body, collecting some of your arousal and spreading it around your entrance, a gasp escaping your lips and entering hers.

“yeji..!” she shushes you, taking her unoccupied hand and pushing a few of her fingers inside, swirling it around while she looks at you with a sickeningly sweet smile. “the others will be back soon, or would you rather not.. finish?”

you hold back a whine, flinging your head back against the mattress as you feel yeji push gently against your clit, circling it with her thumb as the rest of her fingers dig into your thigh. she takes her saliva coated fingers out of your mouth, dragging it across your chest and tapping agonisingly gentle on your nipples. “that’s what i thought, although, i didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.. it hasn’t been that long since we’ve done anything..”

you breathe out heavily, managing to tilt your head downwards to watch yeji, who’s shuffling downwards to meet your core. “cute.” she has both of her hands on your thighs, using her thumbs to part your folds slightly.

a jolt of electricity feels like it has been sent through your body, feeling yeji kissing your bud before sucking on it gently, her tongue swirling it, and your head immediately falling back onto the mattress. soft whimpers and whines leaving your lips.

your hands are desperate and greedy, attempting to grab onto anything they can, from the bedsheets to the blankets, but the most comfortable place for them is in yeji’s hair, gripping small bunches and tugging her closer, your hips jerking to get a better feel.

she pulls back, needing to catch her breath, two fingers replacing the job of her mouth as she looks up at you, making as much eye contact with you as possible, her chest heaving while she presses kisses along your inner thighs, along with the occasional bite, just to get a bigger reaction out of you, leaving behind deep red love marks behind, being careful not to go too far down.

shes relentless in her actions, biting her lip and furrowing her eyebrows as her fingers quickens their pace, curving just slightly, letting out a low, sultry giggle as she hits your spot, which was signalled by an almost pornographic moan coming from your mouth.

“you sound so pretty like that..”

and just like that, it feels like the knot that had been slowly building up in your stomach suddenly came undone without warning. yeji kept going, she didn’t stop, if anything she somehow found the energy to go even faster, not aiding in any way to help you come down from your intense orgasm.

“w..wai- yeji- i just- you can’t..!”

“shhh.. just a bit more..” she muttered, sitting up, her fingers still pumping inside of you. as she sat up, she flung her head back swiftly, her hair following to flow perfectly onto her shoulders and back, with a few stray strands sticking to her forehead due to a sheet of sweat covering her skin, giving you that look.

you really were in for a big night.

a/n: IM ALIVe. HI. im so sorry this took me so long to get out 💔💔💔 im planning on writing and hopefully getting out a valentines day fic… hopefully within the month of feb… so… idk… hahajhsa…