#sorry about the flickering. i did my best...but i failed...!

[theotherbuckley]

Maddie knew that there were risks, having another baby at her age. But risks were one thing to consider, yeah it was possible… but you never really expected them to actually happen to you. 

Getting told during her ultrasound that her baby boy would likely have Down syndrome, scared her a lot more than she’d like to admit. She knew she’d love her baby no matter what, but she was not immune to being scared. 

Scared of ruining her child’s life. Scared of running away. Scared of not being good enough for a boy who’d need her most.

Howie was ecstatic to learn he was having a baby boy. It didn’t faze him that his son would probably have Down syndrome. He didn’t care. He was over the moon with joy. 

Maddie wished she could be more like that. But she was worried. Worried that she wasn’t built for this. She wasn’t even there for Jee when she should have been. Still, she tries so hard not to dwell on the past, the what ifs.

When Lee Robert Han is born, she knows she’s fallen in love all over again. He’s smiling even as a newborn, looking up at her with his almond-shaped eyes sparkling. And yeah, she’s in love with her baby. 

She’s scared though, underneath the immense love she feels there’s this nagging voice inside. She’s still so fucking scared because she did this to her baby, and what if she’s not a good enough mom for him?

Everyone tells her how beautiful he is (she knows), and everyone congratulates them, eyes watering over the tribute to Bobby. But nobody really talks about it. Except Buck spewing facts he’d learnt in his latest research binge so that he could ensure he’d be the favourite uncle to the little boy. She’s so grateful for him, but nobody else really acknowledges the implications of the boy’s condition, until…

“Hey,” Eddie says, sitting down beside her bed. 

The two have never been close, which is surprising considering the man is her brother’s best friend, her husband’s colleague, and part of her extended family. Regardless, she’s a little surprised when he stays behind once everyone else has left for the night, and Howie home with Jee. 

“Hi, Eddie,” she replies back a little curiously.

Eddie fidgets beside her, mouth opening and closing like he’s figuring out what to say. She recognises the time to be quiet and waits whilst he gathers himself, finally articulating his thoughts.

“When Christopher was diagnosed with CP I reenlisted for a second tour,” Eddie starts, and Maddie lets out a small involuntary breath as she processes what he’s telling her. 

“I told myself then, that it was to provide for my family. You know, medical bills are expensive. That’s what I said. Shannon was furious. And I told myself I was doing the right thing for them.” Eddie takes a breath and Maddie waits patiently for him to continue, her eyes flickering to her baby laid in the crib beside her.

“I didn’t leave because of the money. We could have figured it out. I left because I was so damn afraid. And I didn’t wanna screw that kid up. Shannon kept telling me that she was sorry and that she didn’t know how to fix it. Like, it was her fault that Chris has CP and that that meant something was wrong with him. For a long time, I let her apologise, because I was scared too. But I regret not being there for her then, not being there for both of them. I wouldn’t change Christopher for the world. And I know that if she were here, she’d feel the same.”

There’s tears falling down Maddie’s cheeks as he speaks. She tells herself it’s the hormones but it’s not. 

“Eddie…”

”At the start, I know she was scared, and I know she blamed herself as though she’d hurt her son. But Christopher is Christopher, and I love him so much.” Eddie looks up at Maddie, staring her in the eyes. “I’m telling you this because I know— I know other people don’t really understand. But listen to me when I say, you didn’t fail your boy. He’s perfect.”

She chokes out an involuntary sob at his words. Melting into his touch when he wraps an arm around her pulling her gently into his side. Offering up a little bit of comfort which she takes eagerly.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “I want to be there for him, for everything, I don’t want to run this time. But— but sometimes I just worry that maybe he’d be better off if I did,” she admits, verbalising her internal thoughts. She was too scared of upsetting Howie, but Eddie— Eddie seems to understand.

Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t go back in time and change how I reacted then. But I can be here now and tell you that we are all here for you. And I know you’re going to raise an amazing boy. Just remember he’s not broken, and you’re not broken. I— I wish Shannon were here because I know that she’d understand, more than I do, but I’m here if you need anything. Okay?”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“Of course,” he says, standing up. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

She lets him go before scooping her son into her arms. She feels lighter already, even though her worries still plague her. She’s not alone, her family is there and she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

“I love you,” she whispers to the bundle sleeping against her chest. “I love you.”

For @hiineedholywater who came up with the idea for Lee 💜

@911hiatuspositivity Kid fic

[cold-open]

small red wizard terrorizes bars throughout boiler city

[bbokarimenu]

Heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

pairing: idoldadbangchan! x fem reader!

genre: Angst

warnings: none

an: Love is a journey, not a destination. Thank you for reading! ❤️

Masterlist

The soft hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand was the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. I sat on the edge of our bed, staring at the digital clock glowing 2:37 AM. My chest tightened as I fought the urge to cry.

Bang Chan wasn’t here again.

It had been weeks since he’d had a proper day off, weeks since we’d spent more than a fleeting moment together as a family. He was always working—writing, producing, rehearsing. And while I knew his role as the leader of Stray Kids demanded so much of him, it felt like his role as a father and partner had taken a backseat.

A soft cry crackled through the baby monitor, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Shh, I’m coming,” I whispered to no one, pulling myself together and heading into the nursery.

Our daughter, Luna, lay in her crib, her tiny face scrunched up as she whimpered. I reached in, scooping her up gently, and began rocking her in my arms.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” I cooed. “Mommy’s here.”

Her cries subsided into soft sniffles, and I kissed her forehead, inhaling the faint scent of baby powder.

I felt a pang of sadness as I looked down at her. She deserved more than this. More than just me. She deserved her dad too.

The front door creaked open just after 4 AM. I was sitting on the couch, Luna finally asleep in her bassinet beside me.

Chan stepped inside, his shoulders slumped and his hoodie pulled low over his face. He looked exhausted, but when he saw me sitting there, his eyes widened in surprise.

“(Y/N), you’re still awake?”

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “How could I sleep when I don’t even know if you’re coming home anymore?”

He winced, shutting the door quietly behind him. “I’m sorry. Practice ran late, and then I had some things to finish in the studio—”

“It’s always practice or the studio or something else,” I interrupted, my voice trembling with frustration. “Do you even realize how long it’s been since you spent time with us? With her?” I motioned toward the bassinet.

His gaze flickered to Luna, and guilt flashed across his face. “I know. I know I’ve been… absent. But you know how important this is. I’m doing this for us. For her future.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Her future? Chan, she doesn’t need all the money or fame in the world. She needs her dad. I need you.”

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” I asked, standing up. “Because it feels like your best is reserved for everyone else but us.”

His shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)? Quit? Walk away from everything I’ve worked for?”

“I’m not asking you to quit,” I said, my voice softening. “I’m asking you to find a balance. To make time for the family you chose to have.”

He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he nodded, his expression weary. “You’re right. I’ve been… I’ve been failing you. Both of you. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did.

Days turned into weeks, and while Chan did make more of an effort to be present, it still felt like his heart was elsewhere. He’d hold Luna and play with her, but his phone was always nearby, his mind half in another world.

One evening, after putting Luna to bed, I found him in the living room with his laptop open. He was reviewing tracks, his headphones on, completely absorbed.

“Chan,” I said, standing in the doorway.

He didn’t respond.

“Chan,” I said again, louder this time.

He finally looked up, pulling his headphones off. “What’s up?”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “Is this what it’s always going to be like? You here, but not really here?”

He frowned, closing his laptop. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us,” I said, stepping closer. “I’m talking about how I feel like I’m raising Luna on my own while you chase this dream that seems more important than we are.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You knew what you were signing up for when we started this. You knew my career would demand a lot of me.”

“I didn’t know it would mean losing you,” I shot back, tears spilling over.

His face softened, and he stood, reaching for me. “(Y/N), don’t say that. You haven’t lost me.”

“Haven’t I?” I whispered, pulling away. “Because it feels like I’m standing here begging for scraps of your time, your attention. And I shouldn’t have to beg, Chan. We shouldn’t have to beg.”

He looked at me, pain etched across his face, but he didn’t say anything. And in that silence, I felt my heart break a little more.

That night, I packed a bag for Luna and me.

I didn’t want to leave. I loved Chan more than anything, but I couldn’t keep living like this. I couldn’t keep feeling like we were an afterthought in his life.

When he found me in the nursery, his eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“I need some space,” I said, my voice trembling. “I need to figure out what’s best for Luna and me.”

“(Y/N), please,” he said, his voice desperate. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave.”

“I don’t want to,” I admitted, tears streaming down my face. “But I can’t keep waiting for you to choose us.”

He reached for me, his hands trembling. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll do better, I swear. Just don’t go.”

I looked at him, my heart breaking at the sight of his tears. “I love you, Chan. But love isn’t enough if we’re the only ones fighting for this.”

With that, I picked up Luna and walked out the door, leaving behind the man I loved and the life we had built together.

The days that followed were some of the hardest of my life. I stayed with my sister, trying to find clarity amidst the chaos of my emotions.

Chan called and texted every day, apologizing, begging for another chance. I wanted to forgive him, to run back into his arms and pretend everything was okay. But I knew we needed more than just promises.

One evening, about two weeks after I left, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find Chan standing there, holding a small bouquet of flowers and a stuffed bunny for Luna. He looked exhausted, but there was a determination in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

He sat down on the couch, his hands trembling as he set the flowers and toy on the table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he began. “About us. About everything.”

I sat across from him, waiting.

“You were right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I’ve been neglecting the most important people in my life. And I hate myself for it.”

Tears filled my eyes, but I didn’t say anything.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continued. “I don’t want to lose our family. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. To be the husband and father you both deserve.”

“Chan,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I don’t need perfection. I just need you to try. To really try.”

He reached across the table, taking my hands in his. “I will. I swear, (Y/N). You and Luna are my everything. And I’m going to prove it to you every day.”

Looking into his eyes, I saw the sincerity there. The love. The man I had fallen in love with.

Maybe it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe we had a long road ahead of us. But for the first time in weeks, I felt hope.

And that was enough to take the first step toward healing together.

[wcnderlnds]

breathe on me | ham dae-gil

・❥・ summary: daegil teaches you how to play cards so you take it one step further challenging him to a game of strip poker ・❥・word count: 2.2k ・❥・warnings: 18+, MDNI. unprotected p in v, oral (f reciveing), fingering, slight overstimulation, a little rough??, female reader, gambling, smoking ・❥・ authors note: ...this might be the filthiest thing i've wrote so far im so sorry. i just love tazza and daegil 😭 also shoutout to my girl @infinetlyforgotten for giving me the idea for this <3

The world of gambling was a dangerous game. All it took was for someone to get involved in one game and they were hooked. Winning or losing didn’t matter, it was the promise of the possibility of money that kept the gambling world afloat. As long as people thought they’d win, there would never be a shortage of gambling dens and casinos. It could be a dark, dark world. Often people went missing, injured or even had their organs taken if they couldn’t pay back the money they owed. It wasn’t for the weak-hearted.

A job was a job so when you had been offered one in the casino, you decided to take it. There was nothing special about it; all you had to do was take drinks to people and look pretty. It was easy and who didn’t love an easy job for some cash? Sure, some of the men were vile, expecting you to offer other services but you made it very clear that if they even tried, you’d make them regret it. In this world, you had to be strong willed, sure of yourself and thankfully, you were. It did make you wonder why someone like Ham Daegil was part of this world, though. That was until you saw him play.

He was one of the best players you’d seen. His fingers fast, his brain constantly turning as he figured out his next move. He was a true hustler, the cocky smirk when he knew he was about to win, it did something to you. There was an aura about him, he was someone that people were easily drawn to – you included. There had been times you’d seen him around the casino, offering him a drink and taking part in idle chit-chat but that had been about it until one day when you finally caved and asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind since you’d first laid eyes on him.

“How’d you do it?” You asked, handing over the drink he’d asked for.

His brows furrowed in confusion, head tilting to the side as he looked at you. “Do what?”

“Come on! You win every game. There’s got to be a trick to it.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

“Teach me?” You blurted out before you could even stop yourself.

Daegil looked at you, really looked at you before he slowly nodded his head. What harm could it do to teach you a few tricks?

Over the next few weeks, the two of you met up at his place so he could teach you how to play Hwatu. The first few times, you had failed miserably but as the days passed, you slowly got better. All you had to do was pay attention to Daegil, watch his hands and listen to the words he was saying which in itself was a task because he was a distraction all on his own. He’d sit there in front of you, cross legged in one of his suits looking like sin. It was hard not to be obvious as your eyes often flickered to his lips. He had noticed – of course he had but he was biding his time, making you wait. He wanted you desperate for him, practically begging.

You had clocked on to what he was doing immediately. The way he’d let his fingers skim over yours, the way he placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you through his door. The lingering touches, the way you’d often catch him adjusting his pants when you leaned forward to collect your cards, giving him a clear shot of your cleavage. It was a race to see who would cave in first at this point.

Unfortunately, it ended up being you.

One night while you were playing cards, you had the smart idea to turn it into a game of strip poker. The first few rounds you had won which meant Daegil had taken off his jacket and shirt leaving him shirtless in front of you. It was hard to tear your eyes from his bronze skin, his abs looking utterly sinful. That had been your downfall because suddenly he started winning, most of your clothes on a pile on the floor beside you leaving you only in your bra and panties.

“This isn’t fair,” you pouted.

“Distracted?” That cocky smirk was plastered on his face as he brought his cigarette up to his mouth to take a drag. 

“Only as distracted as you are.” You placed your cards down, crawling over towards him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes instantly shot to your breasts. This gave you ample opportunity to pick the cigarette out of his hands and take a drag of it yourself, nonchalantly blowing it back into his face. You were almost sure you heard him groan, it was quiet but it was there. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

He pulled the cigarette from your fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray beside him, rising to his knees slightly, his arm snaking around your waist. “No but maybe if you stop being a fucking tease, you will.”

That caused you to laugh breathlessly, palm resting on his chest as he tugged you closer to him. There was no chance now you were this close to him, your hand snaking up to reach behind his neck, tugging him forward to crash his lips against yours. Instantly, his lips moved against yours, his tongue dragging along your bottom lip begging for entrance. You happily obliged, parting your lips and tangling your tongue with his. He tasted of whiskey and tobacco – a flavour you knew you were about to get addicted to. His hands slid down to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze as he laid you back to the carpeted floor. His soft lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. “You’ve been begging for this for weeks, huh?” His voice was a husky whisper in your ear.

“Show me what other tricks you can do with those fingers,” you breathed, pushing your hips up into his. He pressed his own hips back against you, grinding against your core. The feel of his length through his pants rubbing against you was delicious but not enough. 

As if sensing it, he let his lips leave a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, stopping as he reached your core. He nipped at the skin on your neck, leaving his mark. When you felt his fingers dip between your panties, it was all over. His slender fingers sliding through your folds with ease. “All this for me, baby? Got you this wet and I’ve barely done anything yet. You really are desperate.”

His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles against the sensitive bud. He had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping past your parted lips. He was teasing you on purpose, it was payback for all the weeks of this little game you’d been playing with him. He slipped a finger inside you, dragging it in and out slowly until he pushed another one inside. A loud gasp from you filled the air as he suddenly started moving his fingers inside you at a fast pace, curling them at just the right point to make you see stars. The drag of his long fingers inside you was driving you insane, your hips grinding against his hand. You were on the edge, so close and he knew it. His fingers worked double time, his thumb finding your clit once again and that was it. You were done for. His name flew from your mouth in a moan, body arching as you came around his fingers.

Just when you thought you could relax, have a moment to recuperate, Daegil’s fingers were hooking into your panties, pulling them down off your legs and discarding them somewhere over his shoulders. He wasted no time diving down, his tongue licking a long, flat stripe up your pussy. The moan that he drew from you was a whiny whimper, your hands flying to tangle in his dark locks. That drew a groan from him, reverberating through your body. His tongue found your clit, flicking it before sucking on it gently. He really was trying to kill you. 

“Daegil,” you whined, hips bucking up into his mouth. You were already sensitive from your recent orgasm, a second one fast approaching. He didn’t stop, ignoring your whines and proceeding to eat you out like a man starved. Of course he was just as skilled with his tongue as he was with his fingers. His tongue dipped inside, moving it a little and that was what drew your second orgasm from you. You tugged at his hair, body arching up off the floor. You were sure you almost blacked out, Daegil licking one more stripe along your folds before he pulled back. As you looked at him through hazy eyes, you could see your essence over his mouth. It was maybe one of the hottest things you’d ever seen, only doubled when he used the back of his hand to wipe it away.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, climbing up your body. His lips found yours once again, a slow, sensual kiss this time as he let you taste yourself on him. While he kissed you, you slid your hand between your bodies, popping the button on his pants and sliding them off as much as you could. Sensing what you were doing, he pulled back, standing up momentarily to discard himself of his pants and his boxers. He tilted his head as he eyed you, like a predator sizing up his prey. You were propped up on your elbows, chest rising and falling as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes. “On your hands and knees, baby.”

There was no way you were going to argue. Now you’d seen what he was packing you were more than ready to be fucked stupid by him even if you were oversensitive from your previous two orgasms. It was embarrassing how quickly you obeyed him, rising to your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. Daegil pressed behind you, his hands gripping your hips, rubbing his erection against you to tease you. “Since you like begging for it, a little more won’t hurt you. Go on. Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want me.”

“Daegil, please.” It was a breathless whine, your hips pushing back against him. “Please, I need you. I want you. Fuck me, please.”

As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop the moan that fell from his own lips at the sound of your breathy pleas, the way you were so desperately trying to press against him, begging for him to be inside you. Without a second thought, he grabbed his cock, pushing it into you in one fluid motion. He bottomed out, holding your hips against him. He stayed like that for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of him inside you… and maybe also because the feeling of being inside you finally almost made him cum instantly. Once he’d composed himself, he drew his hips back, slamming back into you with force. He set a hard, fast pace. The moans filling the room were loud enough for his neighbours to hear but he didn’t care. One of his slid up your back, fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pulled you up so he could see you. “This what you wanted?” He gruffed, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

All that came out from your mouth was a garbled ‘yes’. He let go of your hair, pushing your head down, your arms giving way. He was so close, his teeth gritted as he pounded into you to bring you both to ecstasy. “I’m so fucking close, baby. I know you are, too. Let go. Now.”

It was one hard thrust that sent you spiraling, a scream of his name echoing off the walls of his apartment. He groaned loudly, stilling as he emptied himself inside of you, your own name like a symphony from his lips. You both collapsed to the floor, panting heavily. His body pressing against your back as he caught his breath. Once he could finally think straight again, he pulled out of you. He threw himself down beside you, laying on his back, one hand on his chest as the other fished out his cigarettes from his pants laying beside him. He lit one, taking a drag before handing it over to you.

“That was something,” he chuckled, watching you blow the smoke from your kiss swollen lips. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. 

“Yeah, definitely something. Let’s make a deal.”

“Hmmm?”

“We have a repeat of this everytime I bet you at a game.”

Daegil laughed, his dimples prominent which caused your heart to melt. A stark contrast to the desire you had just felt for him. “You just want me to lose on purpose.”

Maybe you did but if it meant more time with him teaching you how to play and repeat performances of this? You weren’t complaining.

taglist (ask to be added): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @aizshallnotbefound @justsisse

[cobaltperun]

Hi, i saw you were taking requests on various characters. I was wondering if you could do a wednesday addams x fem!reader.

I don't have a clear idea, but i thought about some things (mostly about the reader), like: reader is taller than Wednesday and can control the shadows (or something like that, something kinda spooky that would interest Wednesday), she is also really strong (like goes to the gym regularly or does a spot that demands a lot of fisical strength), she is good with cooking and is a bit of a joker (she is always saying funny things or snarky remarks). They are already in a relationship, and the school has a free day, so obviously, Wednesday is using it to continue her investigation and the raeder tagging along because 'what kind of gf would i be if i let you go to look for a killing beast alone?', I thought that they could've been out till late at night, so the reader sneaked her way into the kitchen and then to he gf's bedroom. They had been watched by weems throughout the day, so Wednesday usted it to look for information about the hayde. I would absolutely love it if there were some sneaky around to make out. It's okay if you aren't comfortable with that, you don't have to do it.

At this point, im rambling. Sorry, i got excited and kinda paniced.

English is not my first language, so i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes. It's okay if you don't do this or if you feel like changing something, you have total creative freedom, I'll be happy just by getting something of Wednesday x reader.

Thank you so much, bay!

Hiding in the Shadows

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: After a day of sneaking around and trying to get one step closer to solving the murders all you and Wednesday need is a moment away from everything and everyone.

Masterlist

Word count: 1.8k

There was something profoundly fascinating about shadows, about the way they danced to your whims, forming figures so beautifully grotesque that Wednesday found herself willing and ready to observe them endlessly. It started as a simple curiosity, a fascination with everything dark and dreadful, and your shadows matched that. It started with small flickers of your shadow in dim light, changing shape and twisting, silent yet deafeningly loud to Wednesday.

And then that interest slowly shifted to you, as if she was grabbed by your shadows and bound to you. Willing, despite trying to appear like she couldn’t care less. Hardly anything compared to falling into shadows, letting them engulf her and emerging on the other side of the school grounds.

It was convenient, she kept telling herself. She needed to be able to sneak out, to move unnoticed, and you just so happened to have a perfect ability for that.

Yes.

It was just convenience.

Even when she pulled you down to her level, damn you for being taller, and kissed you.

She allowed you to hold her because you needed to, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to travel through your shadows. That was all there was to it. Nothing else. She didn’t get soft.

And she didn’t yearn for that touch, cursing you for respecting the initial boundaries she set and the clear hatred toward any physical affection she clearly displayed.

Wednesday Addams did not miss the feel of your arm around her back when the two of you separated near the monster’s lair.

~X~

Despite your best efforts the monster kept being a step ahead of you and Wednesday. Once more you failed to track it despite finding yet another lair it used recently. “Why would it eat animals if it could shift between human and a monster?” you asked as you knelt down and picked up a deer skull. It puzzled you and you were kind of tempted to stand guard and wait for the monster to show up, but ever since Eugene got attacked Wednesday was more cautious.

Wednesday thought it over, perhaps the question never crossed her mind before. She was always so focused on the big picture that sometimes these little details slipped her mind. “Instinct maybe, or maybe it just wants to kill,” that was… an interesting idea.

“Wait, Wednesday,” you paused, because sure, instinct could be an explanation, but then again, the surgically removed body parts, the purpose behind the killings that, while unknown, definitely existed. “There’s someone else. It’s not just the monster!” you realized, exclaiming it so loudly the birds got frightened and flew away, but more importantly Wednesday’s eyes widened.

She began pacing around the lair, frustration visible on her face. “How didn’t I notice it before? It makes sense,” someone had to be instructing the monster, leading it, aiming all of that destructive force.

“You had someone very distracting near you?” you offered with a cheeky grin and Wednesday glanced at you, annoyed, and slightly amused, even if she would never admit it. “Let’s go back before Weems figures out we’re gone,” you offered her your hand, figuring there was nothing else to see here. Wednesday didn’t waste a second and closed the distance between you, letting your shadows consume both of you and in mere seconds you were back on Wednesday’s balcony.

The sunset looked beautiful from Wednesday’s balcony, even if it probably annoyed her, yet you caught yourself admiring your girlfriend as she looked down, the last of sunlight making her eyes shine with even brighter determination than usual. “You’re staring, Y/N,” she didn’t even need to look at you to know.

“Hard not to,” you whispered, approaching her from behind and wrapping your arms around her waist. Anyone else would have lost both of their arms for this, and that made being able to do this, and keep your limbs, even more precious.

“I’m going to check the lair again tomorrow, see if the monster comes back tonight,” she tried to be subtle about it, divert your attention back to the case as she leaned further into your touch.

“We’re going,” you left no room for arguments. “What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you have all the fun all by yourself,” you teased, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly worried. Wednesday suffered from self-preservation deficiency, and it often caused problems.

A sound from inside Wednesday’s room made you pull away and you grinned a bit. It was just Enid, but Wednesday was still keeping you a secret from everyone else, even from Thing, so there really was only one option left. You winked at her and fell back as Wednesday rolled her eyes and watched you sinking into your shadow and teleporting back to your room.

~X~

She could still feel your arms around her. Strong, from all the training you did, firm, and cool to touch. She enjoyed how cold your hands were, leaving chills behind long after the two of you would separate. Her secret, that’s what you were, always hiding in the shadows with her, always keeping her cautious and careful and on edge.

The way only you could.

“Was that Y/N?” Enid asked as she joined her on the balcony.

“Yes, she missed some notes yesterday during class,” she effortlessly lied, and since you sat a few rows behind Enid the lie was more than believable.

Enid thought it over for a moment. “You know, I bet she just likes you,” Enid was deceivingly perceptive, something Wednesday didn’t expect when she first met the werewolf girl. Queen of gossip indeed, she did have to be perceptive to obtain such a title. Enid smirked, daring to tease Wednesday, as if there would be no consequences. “And I think you like her too,” too perceptive.

“She is useful,” Wednesday denied her feelings, keep on keeping your relationship a secret for as long as possible. Her entire reputation was on the line.

Yet Enid didn’t quite buy it. “Mhm, keep telling yourself it’s just that,” Enid actually sang, unaffected by Wednesday’s glare.

She’s become way too soft, grown to care for too many people. She despised it. It was awful. Dreadful really.

~X~

Hours later, after you were sure Enid was asleep you emerged from the shadows on Wednesday’s balcony, with a quick snack specifically made to suit Wednesday’s taste. She was playing cello again, focused, not for a moment interrupting her practice even as you stopped right next to her and offered her a bite of the pie you made.

You half expected to learn how to make poisonous mushrooms edible when you once spoke with Morticia about Addams family cuisine, but that was yet to happen. Wednesday, while still almost entirely focused on her music, accepted the bite and chewed slowly. You adored her. Every single thing about her.

A few minutes later she was done and the pie was forgotten on the railing as the two of you just stood there, side by side, overlooking the school grounds. Damn near all day spent together and you still couldn’t get enough of each other. Wednesday often lamented how she was turning into her father. You’ve seen how Gomez was, and Wednesday wasn’t that bad. Not yet, at the very least. You caught her occasionally looking at your lips and smiled, taking her hand and pulling you to the wall to the left, so that Enid couldn’t catch glimpse of the two of you in case she woke up.

“Wednesday,” you muttered, finally kissing her, finally, after a whole day of pure focus and determination to make progress on the investigation, you could feel her lips on your own. And Wednesday immediately grabbed onto you and deepened the kiss made it clear to you that she wanted this just as much as you did.

Wednesday rarely voiced any reaction, not that I bothered you. You didn’t need to hear her gasp or moan, let alone tell you how she felt. You could tell. Your kisses blazed a path down the side of her neck, and you couldn’t help but smile as Wednesday’s stiff fingers dug into the back of your head and neck, pulling you closer. You could tell how much you affected her by the way she tilted her head to the side, baring the side of her neck for you, or in the way she bit her lower lip, breathing a bit heavier, as if trying to keep the sounds from coming out.

The darkness of the night engulfed both of you, hiding you, the chilling winds actually felt pleasant, and Wednesday, she didn’t tremble one bit. Neither the cold nor your teeth grazing her soft, pale skin, made her shiver. No, barely anything made Wednesday shiver. You slipping your hand under her jacket, not quite daring to push it a step further and touch her bare skin just yet, did make her breath hitch and she shivered slightly under your touch. “Y/N,” her voice was barely louder than a whisper and for a moment you weren’t sure if you imagined it. Your eyes met and her dark eyes, usually void of any desires and instead filled solely with focus, disdain, or unimpressed boredom, now mirrored your own deep desires and need for her.

“Yeah?” you questioned, kissing up her neck until you reached her lips. You waited, letting Wednesday initiate the kiss, and the intensity of it took you by surprise. Wednesday pressed her body against your own, pulling you closer while she held on to you. The kiss was rushed, almost desperate, lips damn near smashing together as Wednesday demanded more, and you gave her more, anything she could want.

Wednesday pulled back, digging her fingers into the back of your head and pushing you lower to her neck. “Teeth,” that was as much as you could ever hope to get from her. A simple word stating what she wanted as you lightly bit her neck. Just enough for her to enjoy it, but not too hard to leave marks tomorrow.

A loud thud made both of you snap out of it and pull away from one another, only to see Enid, with Thing on her shoulder, staring at the two of you with wide eyes and jaw on the floor. “I knew it!” and that was all Enid said, and so the secret was out, the two of you could no longer keep hiding in the shadows, at least in regard to your relationship.

[jsooly]

Can I make an ask for the sully seriessss? I wanna see what would happen if y/n got into a fight with one of the sullys (idm which one) so at the ended of the day she started going back to the lab with spider instead of being around them and like they kept going back to the lab like for atleast a week and a half, and she basically sleeps there, eats there, doesn’t actually leave it and the sullys haven’t seen her in dayssss and this sort of thing has never happened before

If you don’t wanna do this it’s okay but tysm!! :)

taken in by the sullys (10) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, flashback to when you get into a fight with neytiri and stay at the lab for a day or two… or twelve…

try not to put lore in the filler chapters challenge: failed. lol

thank you for your request <3 sorry if it isn't what you intended, but i hope i did it justice! i'm slowly working through my inbox so if you sent a request in, dw, i haven't forgotten them :D

(1) / . . . / (8*) / (9*) / (10 - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

years before the RDA returned. . .

as we’ve talked about in the earlier chapters, you can owe your strength and skill to neytiri, who was very diligent in training you.

you started earlier than any of your siblings. you learned to string bows, build arrows, proper technique for handling knives, etc...

it was clear to anyone that neytiri was the hardest on you. she put a lot of pressure on you to be the best.

in the early years, she was hyperaware of the clan's opinions of her. of jake, of the half-blood children she would eventually have one day. even though they were triumphant against humanity, she still held a bitterness for them.

so she was shocked when she felt so strongly about keeping you as her own. jake was more than ready to respect her wishes if push came to shove, but despite her grudge against the sky people, she was 100% on board with your adoption.

neytiri loved you very much, but sometimes other people's opinions were more important than your happiness.

"again." neytiri snapped, circling you like a hawk. her golden eyes were focused on you, constantly assessing your form for any missteps.

your eyes darted to her before you swallowed your nerves and pulled the bowstring taut.

"not quite. again."

you let the bow drop, clenching your eyes shut. what am i getting wrong? you inhaled sharply, drawing the bow once more, the thin string digging into the joints of your middle and index finger. your gaze flickered to neytiri in preparation for her critique.

she pursed her lips before she sighed, shaking her head lightly. "you must be faster, ma'ite."

you frowned, gently releasing the bowstring. the disappointment in her voice made your skin hot with embarrassment. "i'm pulling it as fast as i can."

"not good enough." her eyebrows furrowed. "we will do more strength training. forget the bow. for now we will build your muscles."

she stalked off, swiping the bow from you. you watched her leave before dropping onto the ground in exhaustion. you stared at the leather stitching in the ceiling, your heart thumping in your chest as you entered a resting state.

it was hard to impress neytiri, much less meet her expectations. you were working yourself to the bone, and still you weren't scratching the surface of her approval.

it only got worse as you got older. you were capable of more, so neytiri pushed you harder.

unfortunately, you were also in an age where you were increasingly self-conscious. this anxiety was only fueled by the strife within the clan. strife centered around you.

they didn't like that you were participating in their training rituals, especially since you regularly outperformed the other children.

and this isn't to say you just happen to be able to achieve such feats despite being human—

neytiri had you working all the time.

the other kids wanted to win. you had to win.

unknowingly, and unintentionally, neytiri conditioned you into thinking being the best would make you worthy of your family.

"what is the use, neytiri?" a clan member asked her, the judgement clear on his tone. he consoled his own child who was just beaten in combat by you. "the child is human. no matter how much time you pour into teaching her, she will never be part of the clan."

"i am aware," neytiri shoots back dismissively.

"you have sons. neteyam is the next olo'eyktan, and you waste your time on a demon."

"demon or not, she is a part of my family. we train all our children, y/n is no different." neytiri hissed, whirling to face her challenger.

the man stepped back but didn't step down. "what is the goal of her training? she cannot complete iknimaya. she cannot bond, she cannot see, she cannot connect with the great mother—"

"there are many things y/n cannot do. to make up for it, she will be everything the sky people are not. she will be clever, quick, and deadly like any other na'vi child, otherwise there would have been no point in keeping her." neytiri snarled, her anger bubbling over the surface.

the man was putting her own fears into words. she was unforgiving to sky people, wishing they would remain with their kind rather than infiltrate her and her people's space. she was aware she was being hypocritical when it came to you, and it ate her up inside when she thought about it. but that's just a mother's love—paradoxical.

she was determined to mold you into perfection so that no one would think you didn't belong among them.

she stormed away from the man and his child, her thoughts so clouded that she didn't even notice you standing right there, hiding behind a branch as you eavesdropped.

you stared at her until she vanished from view, her words stewing in your mind.

some part of you knew that she felt that way. simply observing the differences between how she trained you versus neteyam or lo'ak were clear as day. she handled you with an urgency as if you were stacked against a ticking clock, as if you had to fight to be able to stand in front of her and receive her instruction.

she would only respond to excellence. and even then, her praise was weighed down by an unspoken burden.

you sat behind that branch for a very long time.

demon. the man called you that, and she didn't deny it.

—

the dinner table was filled with the pleasant chatter of your younger siblings, reveling in their various feats and findings in the earlier hours.

"what about your day, y/n?" jake asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing.

you sighed, nudging the food on your leaf. "just training."

"this reminds me, y/n," neytiri spoke up, wiping tuk's face before glancing over to you. "we can fit in another burst of strength conditioning before bed."

your expression hardened, your eyes falling to the ground. "i'm pretty tired..."

"that's why you're fueling up." she said, almost confused that you would shirk training.

"i won the races today." you said sharply, your eyes narrowing. "isn't that enough?"

"you must be faster, ma'ite." neytiri stressed, her brows furrowing in that oh-so-familiar disappointing look. jake sent her a silent message from across the table, warning neytiri to back down and maybe be encouraging for once.

"i—faster?" you shot back incredulously. you won. forget being faster, you were the fastest.

"our world is unforgiving. even a second can be the difference between life and death." neytiri said matter-of-factly. pity swam in her eyes as she gazed upon you.

you slammed your hands down, glaring outright at your mother. "stop acting like that's the reason you want me to train so hard."

a slow blink. neytiri froze, her ears flattening as she barely contained her reaction. "watch your tone, daughter."

you throw caution to the wind, springing to your feet with clenched fists hanging at your sides. "i do everything you ask. i train, i win, i fight, i hunt—"

"you are not fast enough!" neytiri doubled down, rising to her feet and towering over you.

"i am not enough, period." you correct her, and you didn't miss the flicker of guilt in her expression. got you. the child in you hoped she would deny it, to tell you that it wasn't like that. but the subtle wince told you all you needed to know.

a beat passed as neytiri breathed hard, collecting the scattered thoughts in her head and reigning in her emotion.

"you are alive," neytiri began slowly. "because i made you strong. because i did not coddle you like a helpless child. i did not give you the luxury of softness, because no one would else would. you think you suffer because of me? you won today because you are better than them. both na'vi and sky people alike. because i made you more than what they expected."

"you pushed a narrative on me! you don't see me for who i am."

she snarled, striding around the table. "the clan is the one that does not see you. i see fire in you, y/n. the drive to be more than what you were born as."

"none of this is for my sake! you want me to prove that i'm worth something to the clan. that i'm worth something to you. and i'm trying." your voice tapered off into a whine.

"you're human. you have needed to prove yourself from the minute you set foot on this tree."

you blinked back tears, your face flipping between emotional distress and anger, shoulders rising with every heavy breath.

"what—" your voice broke, and you breathed in deeply before continuing. "what if i didn't want to fight for my place? what if i just wanted to be your daughter?"

she opened her mouth to retort but the gravity of your words hit her like a truck.

frustrated with her lack of response, you spun on your heels and booked it out of the marui with a aggravated scream.

there was a lengthy silence that hung in the air after you stormed out. neytiri said nothing further, dropping back into her seat.

they didn't see you for days after that.

jake and neytiri initially panicked, fearing you were victim to pandora's nightly dangers

but norm put in a call and informed them that you were just hanging around them in an old bunk.

jake visited you in the beginning, coaxing you to return. but you refused.

when he put his foot down and ordered you to come home, you said you'd come on your own time, later that day.

you never showed up. when he went back looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. you were straight up avoiding them.

he knew that he wasn't the one you needed to see. but neytiri was just as stubborn.

"she will come back." neytiri said calmly, but she churned her spices with more aggression that jake's ever seen before.

"you're her mother," jake gently spoke up. "it's your job to chase after her."

she hissed at her husband. "she cannot understand that i am the way i am with her for her own benefit."

"she's a child. barely a teenager. she's doesn't care why you're doing it."

"she doesn't listen."

jake snickered, earning a hard smack to his chest from neytiri. "what?" she snapped.

jake's laughter trailed off as he gave her a knowing look. "now you know how i feel with your sons."

she rolled her eyes.

"she has a lot stacked against her." jake reasoned, scooting closer to her. "she doesn't need to fight her mom, too."

the kids were insufferable.

with you gone, there were lots they couldn't do—namely go out and play in the forest, which was their favorite.

in your absence, jake sometimes found the time to take them out, but he didn't let them have fun like you did.

you let them explore their surroundings, only cautioning them when they were doing something seriously stupid. jake's dad brain didn't allow for much wiggle room, and he wanted them in his sight at all times.

all that to say they were bored. they missed you.

"when is y/n coming back?" lo'ak's little voice whined, climbing on neytiri's back.

"soon." she muttered, her voice clipped. she could feel her resolve slipping.

parenting never came with a guidebook. she was young, freshly 20 when she had neteyam. she didn't know what she was doing, and she hoped the lengths she took to prepare her children for the real world would pay off. the reality was she was stuck.

she also missed you.

"i wanna go outside." kiri raised her arm, pointing to the expanses of the forest.

neytiri groaned. "kiri, we've told you. no outside if your father can't watch you."

she stomped her foot, complaining. "ugh, neteyam's only four years younger than tsmuke. can't he watch us?"

neytiri gave her daughter a warning look. "neteyam is a baby, just like you. he can't fight off viperwolves or save you from a hammerhead stampede, can he? do you want to be flattened?"

"no." kiri muttered, her glare dropping to the floor.

"you can go outside when your father returns from his duties." neytiri sighed.

neytiri was beginning to reach her limit.

she was anxious. when they went to bed at night, there was always something missing. she itched as if something was left undone.

she struggled to sleep. at the least, jake was also in a similar state. they often lay awake beside each other quietly, but the air between them was charged with a million unspoken thoughts.

the next morning, on the twelfth day you've spent away from them, neytiri finally had enough.

she got up at the crack of dawn. by her understanding, you actively avoided them. how you got wind of their arrival without even seeing them was beyond her. or perhaps it wasn't—she probably taught you that.

she slinked through the wet forest, the morning mist kissing her skin with dew drops. it smelled like rain, like dirt and musk. she just hoped she would be able to outwit you.

she found herself smiling, pride sneaking its way into her heart. how funny that you were using everything she taught you against her.

she didn't make her presence known. she was careful not to trip any of the perimeter alarms, peeking through the foggy windows for any indication of your location.

her ears stood at attention at the sound of rustling behind her. it was faint, barely recognizable, and worth pursuing.

she raced after the sound before it got away from her. she caught sight of your skin against the dull earthy tones of the forest, her eyes brightening.

abandoning your stealthy approach, you broke into a sprint.

"y/n!" she yelled after you. your burst of speed caught her off guard and she scrambled to her feet to chase after you. "wait!"

"i don't want to talk to you!" you yelled over the wind.

unfortunately your legs stood no chance against neytiri's massive strides. you were within her reach in seconds. her hand shot out to grab you. you dodged her, shifting your direction and running between her legs. you yanked on her queue, surprising yourself when you packed enough strength to throw her off balance.

when neytiri got a hold of her bearings, you vanished. she did a 360, scanning the area before turning her gaze up. picking a random tree, she began to climb.

"y/n." she said softly when she climbed high enough. you were already leaping across branches. she followed you, pushing hard to catch up.

"stop—" neytiri grunted as her foot barely found purchase on the tree she was leaping to. "stop running!"

by eywa, you were crazy fast. at least that was something your smaller stature allowed—exponential agility. she grumbled to herself, changing course.

when you jumped and landed with an oomph, you swung your head back to see if she was there. you were annoyed she was chasing you, but now you were even more irritated that she stopped so easily.

with a frown, you straddled the branch.

"aha!" neytiri dropped down from above you.

"what—" you barely looked up before she fell on top of you, screaming as you both slid off the high treetops.

she held you against her, her arm firmly fastened around your stomach, your back pressed to her. her free hand gripped onto a vine, the water shielding her skin from the burn.

you came to a complete stop, swaying just a foot above ground. she dropped down, refusing to let you go even when you got over your shock.

"please, ma'ite, mawey."

"let me go." you grunted, pushing her arm away with little success.

"no."

you probably looked so silly, squirming in neytiri's arms while she battled against your flailing limbs to fully and properly embrace you.

"let's hug."

"what? no."

"give me a hug. we need this."

"ugh." you groaned, going rigid in her arms.

pride ran in the family and neytiri was no different. she struggled to find the right words.

"i am sorry for how relentless i was. i know i'm supposed to have all the answers, but i don't. i'm learning that my way isn't always right, and making you feel out of place was the last thing i wanted to do."

you pursed your lips, hanging limp in her arms.

"you... confuse me, y/n. i have a hatred for sky people and everything they took from me, but i love you. dearly. and this is a feeling i cannot explain to my people. i hoped my methods would help you fit in with them, but i pushed you too hard, too fast."

"i don't mind the training. i know i need it especially." you mumbled. "but doing it constantly—"

"i know, i know." she hushed you, cradling your head. "i don't want you to question anything anymore. you are my daughter, however inexplicable it is."

you smiled warmly at her, finally returning her embrace.

she sat down, setting you in her lap as she undid the hairstyle in your hair, reweaving it with her skillful fingers. "i get scared. you've grown, but i still see you as that toddling baby. pandora is dangerous enough for na'vi as is. i can't help but multiply those dangers by one thousand when you go out there."

she sighed. "i must admit something to you. i have visions of you—one recurring one in particular. it comes and goes. you, bruised and bloodied, a massive slotsyal threatening to swallow you whole." she rested her hands on your shoulders. "i don't want to send you out there and see you hurt, or worse. not when i know i can prepare you."

"you've trained me well," you reassure her. "and you will continue to do so. i won't get into trouble thanks to your lessons. there's no way a stormglider would eat me, either."

she chuckled, standing and holding out her hand in invitation. "perhaps you're right. you are pretty fast."

you beamed up at her.

your bond with neytiri only grew stronger from that point. you were locked in together, and she couldn't be more proud of the fighter you've grown into.

and if anyone had anyone to say about it, they better be ready for a knife fight.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000

© jsooly ‘25

[thebluester2020]

[ZZZ] "How To Recieve An A+ In Housekeeping!"

Summary: Attempting to get a job in Victorian Housekeeping Co. is a very strenuous process! One must show a wide variety of skills, good vocabulary, and excellent manners— all three were skills that you were failing at but, luckily the leader of the company had the perfect method to teach you these skills and it all starts with a program! Warning(s): Dom! Lycaon / Sub! Reader, Brat-Taming [Reader's a bit mouthy at best tbh] Spanking, Slight Edging, Cum Denial [Kinda? Lycaon encourages reader not to cum but doesn't do anything to enforce it tbh], Lycian being gentlemanly as hell. (Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!) Side Note(s): I won't say I am/am not a furry. But I will say that my taste in dudes will always favor them where they're stoic and serious but have a secret soft side. Respectfully, those types of men make me want to do the sexy splits on them.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this <33

"Your manners are terrible"

When those words left the wolfman's mouth sternly as you sat before him, only a desk separating the two of you, you could've sworn you felt a metaphorical anvil drop into your stomach. You had been job-hunting for a couple of weeks now, after your last gang had disbanded due to the leader getting caught up with the law. You no longer had a steady flow of cash (albeit a little illegal ) coming in!

From gang member to attempted housemaid...it was laughable. Even to you.

And clearly, the leader of the Victorian Housekeeping company thought so too from the way he looked at your resume with a strict gaze once more before resuming looking at you. You were fully expectant of another harsh sentence to slip from his sharp-toothed youth until...you heard a heavy sigh escape him.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the very room seeming to react to the movement by the way the single light above you two flickered. His then he huffed. "There is a way to improve to improve your manners, however, you'll be learning from me personally."

You gasped. "Really?! Thank you so much, man!"

His ear twitched at the casual "man" you threw his way. "...Sir or mister is a more proper way of speaking to your male superiors."

You cleared your throat and uttered a 'sorry'. "The program will be for three weeks. Each week will be dedicated to a specific set of manners that you are to master if you wish to join the company."

"Which are?" You responded.

"The first week will be vocabulary, communication with clients, and the correct words to address people by," As Lyacon said this, he opened a drawer on his side before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to you. You slowly began to read over the paper, one that seemed like a contract of sorts as the wolf continued to talk.

"The second week will simply focus on posture."

You scoffed as your eyes flicked back up to his. "Posture? Ain't that just walkin'?"

"Proper posture is harder to achieve than one may assume Ms. Y/N." He said. "The third week will be—"

The sudden clearing of his throat made him stop immediately, your face suddenly but quickly turning red as you reached a section on the paper that caught your eye.

Complete submission is expected by those who train under Von Lycaon, especially those he offers "favors" to.

"F-Favors...?"

"Favors hint towards a sexual nature, if I'm to assume that was the inquiry to your question?"

In your former gang, you had heard about Von Lycaon and the whole attitude of the white wolfman. He was a pinnacle of perfection in seemingly everything he did! There didn't seem to be a single thing he half-assed, to put it crudely, and what's more? He didn't get distracted. So...for a document to suggest that he wanted submission during sex?

You didn't know if it was shocking or expected.

"I didn't expect the Lycaon to need a document to garner sex." You said.

A rare chuckle left him. "I don't," He answered. "But everyone learns quicker and better when praise and pleasure is included, correct? This is merely a suggestion for you to learn faster. You are more than welcome to opt out of this."

"And if I accept?" Upon that question, the corners of Lycaon's mouth curled up slightly as he slowly leaned in until you could just barely feel his breath.

"Then you will learn fast. On my honor, I promise you."

You should've said no to this optional part of the program. All you needed was a job and Lycaon made it clear that there was a sexless version of the program where you'd simply learn the old-fashioned way! No pleasure or sex included but...as your eyes steadily trailed over the thiren, you couldn't deny he was a handsome individual. It wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest to have benefits while completing your training under him. And as you steadily came to that conclusion, your thighs beginning to clench underneath the desk.

The thiren briefly sniffed at the air before he closed his eyes and exhaled. He was as still as a statue for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and offered you a pen from his breast pocket.

"I didn't give you an official answer—"

"Your scent gave me a suggestion." His raspy voice in combination with the sudden feral look in his eyes...you all too quickly shooed away any doubts you may have had before you began to sign away on the line at the bottom of the paper. And once you did, sliding the paper gently back to the wolf, he read over it briefly before he folded it neatly and placed it back into a drawer.

"We shall begin Monday," Lycaon said. "Please be prompt and on-time, I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Yeah, yeah." You scoffed.

And thus, your training as a potential housemaid for the Victorian Housekeeping Company has officially begun.

. . .

| Week One |

You had slept in, you had forgotten to set a timer over the weekend, too engrossed with the fact that you had basically agreed to have sex with Lycaon during your three-week training! The second you arrived home, it was a struggle to not touch yourself to the thought of what he looked like underneath his kept-together appearance.

You imagined he'd be soft to the touch judging by how much fur he had.

Would he be firm with his gaze, demanding you to be perfect even in the heat of the moment? Or would be he gentle and accommodating with you?

No matter how much your body cried out for you to indulge yourself a little, you saved it until you experienced it for yourself.

But right now, as your head was bowed down in apology to the wolfman for making him wait over forty minutes to your first day. You had a strong feeling you wouldn't be experiencing anything pleasurable today. "Once again dude, I am SO sorry!" You said.

"I forgot to set a timer, then I wanted to stop and get some breakfast along the way—"

"Stop," He snapped his jaws with a growl seeming to bubble just underneath the surface, the sight of his fangs making you shudder out of fear and...the slightest hint of excitement.

"First appearances are important, the most important out of any interaction and you sullied it on your first day of training? How do you expect to work for the company with such a flippant attitude?"

"I said sorry—"

"Sorry does not cut it Ms. Y/N. Excusing being a minute or two late is another matter but forty? Punishment is the only fitting way to solve such blatant disregard for other people's time." At those chilling words, Lycaon took a single step toward you before he took your chin into his hand, his eyes scanning over your nervous form with a critical gaze before he eventually sighed.

"I have a punishment in mind, please see to it that you are undressed in my office within' five minutes, and be on time."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers before you huffed defiantly. "I'm not doing that!" You yelled.

His ear flicked, to him? You sounded like an impudent child, screaming and doing anything to get out of being scolded by their parent. "No?" He tilted his head.

"No!"

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face. "Every minute you stand here is an additional minute to your punishment Ms. Y/N. Do take care to remember that."

And so, there you stood.

| + | + | + |

You wouldn't be able to claim that he wasn't patient for the entire duration you had a fit about being punished on the first day of training. For about ten whole minutes, you stood there staring at the thiren until you eventually got bored and decided that "your punishment wouldn't be that bad" and simply went to his office!

You sat on a black couch and waited and when Lycaon came in?

The way he so quickly got his hands on you felt like you were being thrown around by an uncouth beast, a complete switch from the gentlemanly wolf you were talking to just a few minutes ago.

Slap! "Count." He ordered.

"O-One—Ah!"

He tutted his lips with a shake of his head as his hand slapped against your ass again, your maid uniform tugged up to your midsection as he pinned your hands down with his free hand. "Proper communication is most effective when you're speaking clearly Ms. Y/N...also, it's "one, sir"."

Another slap against your red behind rang out in the air, your body jerking forward a little at the movement. "At this rate, you'll never reach fifty." He sighed.

"W-Wait...!" You begged. "J-Just give me a break...so I can c-catch my breath—" When he slowly inched his hand upward again, your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your manners. "S-Sir! J-Just let me catch my breath...please."

If your eyes weren't blurry with tears, your mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried to ignore the ache in your cunt. You could've sworn you saw his tail move a little. After a minute, however, a sharp gasp left your swollen lips when you felt a finger graze against your sex, the featherlight touch making you shudder as you whipped your head around to look at the Lycaon.

Unconsciously, his tongue poked out to sweep against his upper set of canines as he focused on how your slick oozed out from your pussy so shamelessly. But at the same time? He figured he shouldn't have been shocked at the lewd sight, his keen hearing didn't miss the way a tiny moan would escape your lips at each slap. It was as if you wanted him to keep going and didn't want your punishment to end anytime soon.

Such behavior wasn't befitting of a potential future employee at the company. "Are you done recuperating? If so, then let us continue."

"W-Wait..." You begged. "J-Just a little time- Ah!"

"Now, now—" He pressed his hand down on your wrists a little more, lightly pinching at your thigh with the tip of his claws to calm your squirming. "—If you focus and count Ms. Y/N then your punishment will be over very soon, please remain focused."

After a final warning, he was quick to resume his smacks against your ass. The pain and pleasure eventually blurring into one another enough for your brain to somehow find a way to "center" itself. And, after around twenty minutes...Lycaon finally released you from your bent-over position over his lap and got up.

A lingering rebelliousness in the back of your head wanted to curse out the wolf as he stood, fixing his cuffs until they were neat again as if he wasn't rocking a blatant boner in his trousers! Yet as your mouth began to open as he walked further away...it quickly shut when he started walking back to you after grabbing something from a bookshelf behind his desk.

"What is that?" You asked.

"Aloe cream, it should help with the burn and any burning sensations."

Oh, you thought.

How...nice of him.

At your silence, his head tilted as he sat down next to you. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah...I just wasn't expecting aftercare." You blushed.

"Your work would be even more affected if I didn't do this, I wouldn't want that." Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat.

. . .

| Week Two |

You didn't want to admit it to yourself at the time but you knew full well as to why your heart skipped a beat that day. At first, you tried to joke and claim that you were a masochist starting to bloom! Von Lycaon was handsome, yes but you knew how to distinguish between work and personal lives! Besides, you wanted money more than you did romance and if the latter interfered with your money...you weren't in any shape or form interested in it.

But, at the second week's coming, this week focused on posture if your memory served correctly. You couldn't lie or joke to yourself anymore.

You developed a crush on your future boss.

And it grew harder and harder to deny that fact in your...current position. Naked aside from your short black heels, you were standing right in front of Lycaon with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his leaking dick. The tip seemed to turn increasingly into an angrier red as you continued to stay frozen in place. "Are you uncomfortable?" Lycaon's words snapped you out of your thoughts before you shook your head.

"N-No sir! It's just..." You went quiet for a second. "How...how is this going to teach me posture?"

"If you would come closer, I will show you." Like a siren's song, the beckoning of his clawed finger made you take small steps forward until you were finally in front of him. "I'll be letting you take control of me for some time," You could've sworn you caught a smirk on his lips at his words. "If you manage to fuck me until I cum with the correct posture then consider your training done, and welcome to your new job as a new maid to the Victorian Housekeeping company. I'll be generous and not even include the third week of training."

"But—" As his hand found its way to your hips, he gently tugged you forward until he slowly maneuvered you to straddle him on his lap, his cock throbbing against your stomach as beads of sweat started to appear at the back of your neck. He reached the middle of your stomach, easily! And that wasn't even considering his girth. "—If your posture fails, you will unfortunately stick to the original training program. And I must warn you, most do not manage to get through week three."

You jumped a little when you felt Lycaon's hand move down to your pussy. "What are you doing?" You voiced out shakily, your clit throbbing at Lycaon's touch as one finger alone was enough to cover your entire clit.

"Preparing you of course," He said with an "obviously" tone. "No matter how much I can smell your eagerness in the air—" A sharp moan escaped your lips when his finger started to slowly move, your cheeks burning at the fact you let out such a noise from such little stimulation. "—I doubt you will be able to fully take me without a little prep."

"Y-You..." You bit your tongue to keep a curse from flying out, your hands quickly moving to his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself and not lose yourself too quickly to the pleasure. A task that you were quickly failing at as you felt a knot slowly begin to form in the pit of your stomach, scorching hot tears brimming your eyes as a single line of drool fell from the corner of your lips.

And Lycaon was enjoying every second of it.

If he were to be honest with himself.

He didn't want you to succeed this time.

After having so much fun with you last week, he would say that he had gotten a bit greedy. As entertaining as it was to tame your bratty behavior and mold it into something more palpable as someone who would be interacting with clients often, it was torture all the same to him to not shut you up with his cock instead! It wasn't enough to rut into his hand at the end of every day, heated pants leaving his lips as his tongue lulled out of his mouth like some common dog begging for a slip of meat.

To say that it was unbecoming of him to set you up for failure was an understatement, rubbing your needy bud until you nearly squirted on him wouldn't make you last very long when you were actually seated on his cock. And as cruel as it was for him to say...how unbecoming and un-gentlemanly it was...

He was so fucking eager for you to fail.

"S-Sir..." His ears perked to your whining as your head fell his chest, his ears then moving to the sound of lewd squelching coming from your pussy. "Please...I-I'm so close..." You whined.

He allowed himself to play with you a minute longer until...he took his finger away.

He struggled to withhold a laugh at your state, your eyes seeming to be confused and stuck between wanting to glare angrily at him or beggingly like a wanton whore for him to continue. "Don't look like that," He said. "If I were to make you cum now, you would be too shaky to fuck me."

You were too shaky now.

But, you'd first kiss the seat of a toilet lid before admitting defeat.

"I-I won't fail this..." You said with determination, although breathlessly.

His tail wagged ever so slightly at your determination. "We shall see," He responded before he relaxed against the couch with a deep sigh. "Please begin at your leisure Ms. Y/N." When you took him into your hand, you felt a surge of confidence at Lycaon's not-so-quiet sharp inhale of breath. You prayed that he was just as needy as you because as you lined him up to your entrance and started to slid him into you, every inch that sunk further into you made your mouth gap wider and wider until you were certain you looked like a gasping fish.

He rubbed against your walls so nicely too, his girth stretching you out just enough to where it made you drool as it touched spots inside of you that you hadn't had a clue existed until today!

"F-Fuckkkkk..." You moaned out once you were fully seated on him.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, desperately trying to ignore that burning feeling in your core as you began to move.

"Shit." Oh, how you just wanted to just shove a hand over his snout to keep him from letting out such sexy noises. His raspy voice and the way his thumbs rubbed encouraging circles into your hips...it wasn't good for you. You'd cum faster at this rate.

"Faster," Lycaon suddenly ordered, opening one of his red eyes to look at you.

"I...I can't- Oh!" Your words caught in your throat when he suddenly fucked up into you. A squeal nearly leaving your throat as you shut your eyes tightly to try and force back that urge to cum.

"Disobeying a superior now Ms. Y/N?" One of his hands slowly dragged up your back before it gently shoved you forward a little. Immediately, you fixed your posture although you nearly fell back over a couple of times. "You should watch yourself, my type of punishment for this act won't be very fun."

You doubted that.

But, as your hands tightened on his shoulders and you fucked yourself more quicker onto him. Tears started to flow down your cheeks more easily as you couldn't deny the burning feeling in your stomach anymore, how the way Lycaon's dick throbbed inside of you and pressed against your most sensitive spots...the urge to beg him for the chance to cum, just once was on the tip of your tongue but you tried to stay focused. "Oh my God..." He moaned deeply.

"Fuckkk..."

"A-Are you close?" You whined.

He scoffed. "Not even close," You felt your hopes nearly crash and shatter at those words. "But...your pussy feels so good on my cock," He praised, his tail thumping against the couch unabashedly as he stared up at you with hooded eyes and a feral gaze. "Perhaps, instead of a maid, you should be my personal breeding toy."

His smirk grew when he felt your pussy tighten around his cock.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?"

You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly as if not seeing him would help your situation anyway. However, as you felt a furred hand cup the side of your face, the feeling of breaths hitting your face. Your eyes slowly cracked open to the wolf thiren's face right in front of yours, panting and moaning with little to no shame before he smiled. "So pretty like this Y/N..." He said before his leaned down to begin pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

Briefly, the thought of whether or not this was a part of the training flashed in the front of your mind. But...as quick as it came, it was gone. You wanted to believe that...he wasn't following some manual when it came to his actions, that they were meant just for you and you alone. "You're so wet, making so much noise...I think I was right in my earlier suggestion hm? Maybe you will do better as my toy."

You shook your head. "Don't lie." He lightly nipped your shoulder, the sharp sudden pain being just what you needed to throw you over the edge before...Lycaon's ears moved to the sound of gushing and the feeling of wetness splashing against his pants and a bit of his thighs.

Without a second thought, his fingers shot down to gather some of your cum onto his fingers before he tasted you, a groan rumbling out as he almost shocked himself with how fast he got hard again. But before he could mention it, much less suggest it, when Lycaon returned his gaze to you. He saw you passed out against his chest, the very sight making him laugh ever so quietly before he sighed.

He supposed he was feeling a touch bit generous...he expected you to cum within seconds of fucking yourself onto his cock but it took you longer than that! To the point, he actually began to worry about cumming first or not! Although he had a mind not to be, he decided to be generous and forgiving seeing as you fucked him until the point of total exhaustion on your point.

He'd give you a passing A+ for effort.

[the-winter-spider]

The Alchemy | Part 5

NFL!Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 5k

Warning: Angst, toxic relationship, manipulation

A/N: Im sorry in trying my best, mental health is just a bitch. Once again i dont know shit about football or the NFL LOL I'm an NHL girly but here we are so if i get terms and shit wrong its ok cuz its a fan fic 🤣🤣

Masterpost

----

The party was in full swing by the time you and Bucky arrived—packed with sweaty, overhyped teenagers celebrating the team’s win, red plastic cups littering every surface, the air thick with cheap beer and bad decisions. Someone had strung up white Christmas lights around the backyard, giving the whole place a soft glow, but it did nothing to cut through the chaos.

You weren’t even sure who actually lived here, just that it was a senior with rich parents who conveniently weren’t home, and that half the damn school had shown up to celebrate.

The music pulsed through your chest, bass-heavy and a little too loud, but it didn’t matter. Because Bucky was there, pressed close as he navigated you through the swarm of people like he always did, one hand grazing the small of your back, the other lifting in a lazy wave whenever a teammate shouted his name.

“Stay put,” he murmured near your ear once you’d finally managed to carve out a small space near the bonfire. “I’ll grab us a drink.”

You nodded, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

The night was warm, the heat of the fire licking at your skin. You weren’t fully relaxed, there was something about nights like these, about parties, about being surrounded by people who were too drunk to notice if something went wrong, but Bucky made it better. He always did.

A few minutes later, he returned, grinning as he held out a red cup. “Here, got you something good.”

The second you caught the scent, rich, smoky, unmistakable—your stomach twisted.

Whiskey.

The smell hit you like a punch to the gut, sharp and suffocating, dragging you back to memories you wanted buried. The way the bottle slammed onto the counter. The way his words slurred together, thick with anger. The way your mother sat frozen at the table, staring at the wall, waiting for it to pass.

Your fingers curled into your palm. “I—I can’t drink that.”

Bucky frowned, holding it out a little more. “What? Since when does my girl turn down a drink?”

Your throat tightened. “Just… not whiskey.”

He opened his mouth, probably to make some joke about you being picky but then, you saw it. The exact second he realized.

His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening just slightly before flickering with something heavy. His grip on the cup faltered. “Oh, fuck.” His voice was barely above a whisper, rough with something close to regret. “Shit, I—I’m sorry.”

You shook your head quickly, forcing a small, tight smile. “Bucky, it’s not a big deal.”

“The hell it’s not,” he muttered, setting the cup down so fast it nearly toppled over. “Stay here, I’ll be right back….again.”

You watched as he vanished again, weaving back through the house, his shoulders tense.

For some reason, your chest ached.

You hadn’t expected him to care so much. It was just a drink. Just a stupid drink at a stupid party. But Bucky had looked at you like he’d failed you somehow..

When he returned, he had two cold beers in his hands. He pressed one into yours before cracking open his own, exhaling sharply like he was only just allowing himself to relax.

“I feel like an idiot,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I should’ve remembered.”

“Bucky, it’s an insignificant thing, it’s really not—”

He cut you off before you could downplay it again. “Nothing about you is insignificant, okay? Nothing.” His blue eyes burned with sincerity, sharp and unshakable. “The stuff that matters to you? It matters to me too. And I’m sorry I forgot.”

Your heart squeezed.

You weren’t used to people treating you like this—like your pain was valid, like your boundaries mattered, like your past wasn’t something to be brushed aside.

But Bucky always had.

He always would. You’re sure of it.

You swallowed hard, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you,” you murmured. “For always being there for me.”

“Always” He whispered, a slight crack in his voice.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The chaos of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in the flickering firelight, beer bottles hanging loosely in your hands.

He was close..so close, the space between you shrinking with every unspoken word. His gaze flickered to your lips, just for a second, before his tongue darted out to wet his own.

Your pulse hammered. Finally, you thought.

And then…

“BUCKY, MY MAN!”

The moment shattered.

A loud, drunken whoop cut through the night, and then, suddenly, the entire football team was descending on him, dragging him into their celebration, slapping his back, shoving beer into his free hand.

You took a step back, your breath still caught in your throat.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours, something like frustration flashing across his face, like he knew what had almost happened, what finally, almost happened, like he wanted to go back but then someone was lifting him onto their shoulders, chanting his name, and he was forced to tear his gaze away.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You let out a quiet breath, tilting your beer back and swallowing the lump in your throat.

Maybe it was for the best.

Maybe it was a sign you were meant to just be friends. To always be just friends.

-----

The hallway outside your hotel room was quiet, save for the occasional distant voices of players passing through, all heading somewhere to celebrate the win. You stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you waited for John. The nerves sitting heavy in your stomach weren’t from excitement—weren’t from the anticipation of a night out, a rare moment to unwind after the intensity of the season’s start. No, this feeling was something else.

You knew what kind of night this would be before it even started. Because you knew John, and the thought of Bucky and him at the same table left you anxious.

John was already running late, and you were left alone with your thoughts, the seconds stretching into minutes, making you hyper-aware of everything—the way your dress felt too tight around your ribs, the way your pulse thrummed a little too fast.

Then, a voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“You okay?”

You turned slightly to see Bucky standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable.

You nodded quickly, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just waiting on John.”

His eyes flickered with something, something you couldn’t quite place. He didn’t say anything right away, just studied you for a moment longer. And for a second, you wondered if he could see it, the way your hands clenched the fabric of your dress at your sides, the way your shoulders were drawn just a little too tight. He use to be able to.

But before either of you could say anything more, the hotel door swung open behind you.

John stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket, his phone in one hand. He barely spared you a glance before looking past you to Bucky.

“Barnes,” he said smoothly.

Bucky gave him a nod, expression still unreadable. “Walker.”

John’s hand found the small of your back, the touch firm, more like a warning than anything else. “We’ll see you guys there,” he said, already steering you down the hallway.

Bucky didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering even as you walked away.

The ride to the restaurant was silent at first, the only sound coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional ding of John’s phone as he scrolled through messages. You kept your hands clasped in your lap, your fingers digging into your palm to keep them steady.

Then, he spoke.

“Do not embarrass me tonight.”

You blinked, your breath catching slightly. “What?”

John didn’t look up from his phone. “These guys? They’re not just players. They have influence. And if you make me look bad in front of them—” He finally turned his gaze on you, a tight smile pulling at his lips. “Well, let’s not make this difficult, okay?”

You nodded automatically, your throat tightening.

He sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the seat. “Just smile, laugh at my jokes. And don’t go on and on about your stupid media stuff, alright? Trust me they don’t give a shit, they’re just playing nice because you used to be friends with Barnes.”

Used to

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look out the window as the city lights blurred past.

It was funny, in a cruel sort of way. You were finally in a place where you felt like you belonged, like you were good at something, and yet John had a way of making it feel so…insignificant. Like you were just playing pretend. And you knew he was right, they were some of the best players in the league getting paid millions of dollars. Why the hell would they care about you and your stupid job that you apparently didn't even earn on your own. And Bucky… well you didn’t even wanna get started on that because you knew deep down you weren't good enough for him then you certainly not good enough for him now. Friends or not.

By the time you pulled up to the restaurant, the unease had settled deep in your chest.

The restaurant hummed with warm, low chatter, the golden glow of the dimmed lights casting soft shadows against the walls. The air still carried the lingering buzz of victory, the easy energy of a team celebrating a job well done. The conversation around the table flowed effortlessly—teammates recounting plays, exchanging banter, trading inside jokes.

You sat between John and Sam, fingers curled around the napkin in your lap, trying to keep yourself grounded. Across from you, Bucky sat quietly, his beer untouched in front of him, blue eyes scanning the table. He wasn’t withdrawn, exactly, but he was watching. Observing.

John, on the other hand, was in his element. Effortlessly inserting himself into conversations, charming everyone around him, laughing at just the right moments. It was all so natural, so perfectly performed, and it made your stomach churn.

The waiter arrived, taking orders, and when he got to you, John barely hesitated before speaking.

“She’ll have an Old Fashioned,” he said smoothly, handing the menu back without looking at you.

You stiffened.

You hated Old Fashioneds. You hated Whiskey, its what your Dad use to drink.

It was such a small thing. Such a stupid, insignificant thing. But the way he did it, so carelessly, so decisively, without even glancing at you, made something burn in your chest.

For a second, you thought about correcting him. Thought about forcing your voice through the thick silence building in your throat. But before you could, his hand slid onto your thigh under the table, fingers pressing firm. Not quite enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you.

You stayed quiet.

When your gaze lifted, Bucky was already watching.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. But the look in his eyes made your skin feel too tight, like he saw right through you. Like he was remembering something.

And maybe he was.

The moment passed, lost in the clatter of silverware, in the swell of voices as the team kept talking.

“So, John,” Steve said, glancing at him. “What do you do?”

John leaned back slightly, his arm still draped over the back of your chair like he belonged there. “I do some PR work behind the scenes,” he said easily. “NFL branding initiatives, helping coordinate events, stuff like that.”

Helping coordinate events. That was generous. You knew damn well he barely lifted a finger. He had a title, sure—something vague that let him slip into rooms he didn’t belong in—but his name, his father, were what carried the real weight.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And your dad? He’s still high up in the league, right?”

John grinned. “Oh yeah. He’s got his hands in just about everything. Any major decision in the league, you can bet he’s a part of it.”

Sam let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn. No wonder you’re so connected.”

John just laughed. “Exactly. Connections are everything in this business. It’s all about who you know.”

He said it so smoothly, like it was just an offhand comment, like it wasn’t meant to cut. But then—

“That’s actually how Y/N got this job, you know.”

Your stomach dropped.

He said it like it was nothing. Like it was casual. Like it wasn’t a grenade he’d just thrown into the middle of the table.

John chuckled, nudging your side. “She’s so damn stubborn—wanted to do everything on her own. Thought she could earn it on her own. But hey, I put in a good word, made sure the right people saw her résumé.”

Silence.

You thought you might be sick.

With the boys that heard, with Bucky thinking you didn’t earn this job, didn’t deserve this job. You felt small, embarrassed. You felt all the colour drain from your face as you took in a sharp inhale.

And from the way Bucky’s jaw tensed slightly, from the way his fingers curled around his beer glass, you knew he was biting back from saying something.

The noise of the restaurant pressed in around you, but everything felt muted, far away. Your hands clenched in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you stared at the flickering candle in the center of the table, trying to keep your face neutral.

Then—

“Doesn’t matter how she got the job,” Sam said suddenly, his voice easy but firm. “Girl’s talented as hell. Deserves it.”

You looked up, surprised.

He was grinning at you, all warmth and confidence, like he hadn’t just rescued you from drowning. And you couldn’t help it—you smiled back, your chest loosening just a little.

But the moment was short-lived. It always was.

John’s hand tightened around your thigh in a sharp, quick squeeze. Not enough to draw attention. Just enough for you to feel it.

“Of course, my girl deserves the world,” he said smoothly, giving you a kiss on the temple before sitting back like he hadn’t just staked a claim.

Bucky was still watching.

Still quiet.

And then John, ever the performer, turned back to the conversation with a smirk. “So, Barnes,” he started, picking up his beer. “You knew Y/N back in what was it again? High school, huh?”

“Our whole childhood.” Bucky’s gaze flicked from you to John, his face unreadable. “But yeah.”

John laughed, shaking his head as he gave you another playful squeeze. “Bet she was a handful back then, huh? Like she is now?”

You forced a small, tight smile, but the grip on your thigh burned.

Bucky didn’t take the bait.

His voice was steady, even, when he finally spoke.

“I could never think that of her.”

The air at the table shifted. It was subtle, but it was there, the tension threading through the conversation like an undercurrent, pulling tighter with every second that passed.

Bucky’s voice was steady, even—but beneath it, there was an unmistakable edge, something sharp and unyielding. His blue eyes never wavered from John’s, locking him in place. And for the first time that night, John hesitated. Just for a second.

You had never seen him hesitate before. It wasn’t in his nature. He was used to having everything handed to him, power, privilege, even respect, whether he earned it or not.

Then, he let out an easy chuckle, leaning back in his chair like he hadn’t noticed the shift in energy. “That so?” He took a slow sip of his beer before glancing at you, his smirk returning. “You must’ve had him wrapped around your finger then, huh?”

Your stomach twisted.

You knew what he was doing. The fake charm, the lighthearted jabs that were never actually lighthearted. The way he was always trying to remind you, to remind everyone, that you were his.

Before you could say anything, Bucky leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table.

“She wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice calm but deliberate. “She didn’t take advantage of people.”

John’s smirk didn’t falter, but you felt his fingers press a little harder against your thigh.

“No?” he said smoothly. “Guess she’s changed, then.”

The words were coated in something...something that made your chest tighten, something that made Bucky’s fingers flex around his glass.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Steve cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. Sam, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced between John and Bucky, lips pressing into a thin line. The energy around the table felt like a slow-building storm, quiet but electric.

John exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Relax, Barnes,” he said, his voice light, but the way he said Bucky’s name, like it was a joke, like it was something he didn’t take seriously—made your stomach drop.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t flinch.

But something in his expression changed.

His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightening slightly, and you could see the muscle feather under his skin.

It wasn’t that Bucky had a short temper. He didn’t. But there were certain things that got under his skin, certain buttons that could be pushed just enough to break that infamous restraint of his.

And John was pushing them.

Hard.

“I’m relaxed,” Bucky said evenly, voice slow and measured. But the way he was gripping the glass in his hand told you otherwise.

John chuckled again, but it was forced this time.

“You know,” he mused, tilting his head, “I always wondered what it would be like, growing up with her. Bet she was always the center of attention, huh?” His grip on your leg tightened as he glanced at you, his tone deliberately playful but edged with something sharper. “She loves that, doesn’t she?”

It was a test. A warning. A reminder.

And Bucky knew it. You knew it.

His expression didn’t change, but his shoulders tensed just, the way they always did when he was holding himself back.

“She deserves attention,” Bucky said, voice low, the weight of it settling heavily between them. “The right kind.”

The implication was there, clear as day.

John’s fingers twitched against your thigh.

That got John’s attention. John for the first time that night, he finally looked Bucky directly in the eye.

The fake smile was gone.

The air felt thick, suffocating, like something was teetering on the edge of breaking.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs.

John stared at Bucky for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it had shifted, he leaned back again, his smirk sliding back into place like nothing had happened.

He let out another laugh, shaking his head. “Man, you must really got it bad, don’t you?”

Bucky didn’t react.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t move.

It was unbearable. You couldn't even hear the chatter from the other side of the table anymore, you couldn't hear the loud music, you could only hear the blood in your ears and the thumping of your heart.

Then, finally, John exhaled, giving your leg one last, sharp squeeze before finally pulling his hand away.

When Bucky didn’t give him a response of any kind he kept going. “Well,” he said smoothly, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “I don’t blame you. She’s something else, huh?”

His lips pressed against your temple, but his grip on your shoulder was firm, and when you instinctively glanced at Bucky again, his jaw was clenched so tightly you thought he might crack a tooth.

The moment hung there, heavy, stretching impossibly long.

The tension at the table was suffocating now, pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake.

You could feel Bucky’s stare—burning, unwavering—but you refused to look back at him. You couldn’t. Because if you did, you weren’t sure what you’d see in his expression.

Anger?

Regret?

Something worse?

John, on the other hand, was thriving in it. You could tell by the way he leaned back casually in his chair, the way he sipped his drink like he wasn’t winding up for another hit.

You were hoping that someone else would say something. Maybe the waiter would come back and interrupt the moment. You were hoping that even maybe Bucky would finally respond and give him what he wants so this could just all stop. But he didn't, so John didn't stop.

And then, just as you feared, he took his shot. He was trying so desperately to get anything out of Bucky.

“You know, Barnes,” John mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, “I gotta say, man, I don’t know how you missed out on this.”

Your stomach dropped.

You knew what was coming before he even said it.

John turned his head, his lips grazing your ear as he squeezed your thigh beneath the table. “She looks even better without clothes on,” he said, low enough that only Bucky, and maybe Sam, could hear. “Seriously. Something must be wrong with you.”

A cold chill ran through your spine.

Bucky went completely still. His fingers no longer flexing on the glass.

It felt like the world had stopped moving.

John grinned, leaning back again. “So tell me, Buck—what exactly did you do wrong to never get your shot?” He raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Didn’t have the balls to go for it?”

Sam shifted beside you, his posture stiffening. You weren’t sure if it was because of what John had said or because of the way Bucky was looking at him now, like a predator sizing up its prey. Bucky was letting him dig his own hole and he wanted so badly to bury him in it.

Then John’s smirk widened. He wasn’t done yet. He never was.

“Oh wait,” he said, snapping his fingers in faux realization. “Don’t answer that, you probably think you didn’t do anything wrong, huh? You just—what was it again?” He turned to you, pretending to think. “Oh, right. You completely cut her off when she told you she was moving. How pathetic is that?”

A sharp pain bloomed in your chest.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word.

John laughed under his breath, taking another sip of his drink before delivering the final blow.

“And then you never even called her when she lost both her parents,” he added, shaking his head. “Not one but two! Damn, man. I mean, I’d say what kind of friend are you? but…” He shrugged. “You guys aren’t friends anymore, right? You made sure of that.”

Silence.

Pure, deafening silence.

Your heart was in your throat.

John’s words hung in the air like poison, thick and suffocating. The weight of them settled over the table, pressing down like a storm cloud about to break.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

And then—

Bucky finally blinked. He took a sip of his beer.

Slowly, he set his drink down on the table with a deliberate clink.

His knuckles were white against the glass.

His shoulders rose and fell in a slow, measured breath.

But when he lifted his eyes to John, there was nothing playful in them. No amusement. No restraint.

Just ice.

And something dangerous.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

John, for the second time that night, hesitated.

It was barely noticeable—a small twitch of his fingers, the slightest flicker of uncertainty behind his smirk.

But Bucky saw it.

You knew Bucky saw it.

And you thought he was going to hit him. That he was going to lunge across the table. A part of you wanted him to.

The tension stretched impossibly thin, so thick it was hard to breathe.

Then..

“Buck,” Steve said, his voice low. A warning.

Bucky didn’t look at him. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

He just stared.

And somehow, somehow—that was worse.

Sam exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Man, you’re really pushing your luck tonight,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for his drink trying to ease the tension.

John chuckled again, but it wasn’t as effortless this time. He clapped a hand on your thigh one more time before finally leaning back, his smirk settling back into place.

His jaw was tight, his grip on his glass even tighter, but his eyes—his eyes—were locked onto John like he was seconds away from standing up and putting him through the damn table.

Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.

You weren’t sure if you were more afraid of what John would say next or what Bucky would do in response. Either way, the air felt charged, volatile, like something was going to snap.

And then, Bucky’s gaze flickered, just for a second, to you.

He saw the look on your face.

The way your fingers were curled into your lap, nails pressing deep into your skin.

The silent plea in your eyes.

And just like that, the tension in his shoulders dropped just slightly, the fire in his expression dimming just enough to see you.

You swallowed thickly, turning to John who was opening his mouth, again. Dragging in a shaky breath before reaching out, your fingers wrapping around John’s forearm.

“Stop,” you said quietly.

John barely glanced at you. “Stop what?”

You squeezed a little tighter. “John,” you said, your voice lower now, more desperate. “Stop this.”

John finally looked at you then, turning his body toward you slightly, his eyes narrowing. His smirk was gone. In its place, something colder, something more dangerous.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he murmured, his voice a quiet taunt. “Come on, honey. Where are your manners?”

You stiffened.

John tilted his head, his smirk returning. “Say it nicely,” he pressed, his fingers ghosting over your thigh under the table. “Try ‘please stop, John’.”

The words stuck in your throat.

The way he was looking at you, so smug, so in control, made you feel sick. You hated how easily he could do this, how effortlessly he could turn your voice into something that barely belonged to you anymore.

Your lips parted, just barely, ready to force the words out—

And then Bucky’s voice cut through the air.

“Don’t.”

John’s head snapped up, his entire body going rigid.

Slowly, his eyes narrowed. “Are you telling my girl what to do?”

That was it.

The final line drawn in the sand.

Before anyone could say another word, Steve pushed his chair back with enough force to make it scrape against the floor. His tone was sharp, decisive. Done.

“Okay,” Steve said firmly. “That’s enough. I don’t know what’s going on here, but this—” He gestured between Bucky and John. “—is not happening. Not tonight.”

Bucky didn’t move.

Didn’t take his eyes off John.

Didn’t blink.

Steve exhaled sharply before turning to Bucky. “Buck, let’s go.”

Bucky didn’t respond, not right away. You could see the war in his expression, the sheer force of restraint it took for him to tear his gaze away from John.

But when he finally did, when his blue eyes landed on you again, his expression softened in a way that made your chest ache.

He wasn’t just looking at you. He was asking.

Are you going to be okay?

You wanted to answer.

Wanted to say yes.

Wanted to say no.

Wanted to say please don’t go.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, you looked down.

Bucky’s jaw tightened again, but he didn’t push it.

He just let out a slow, measured breath before finally stepping away from the table.

Steve followed.

A few of the other players, ones who had been too far away to hear what had really gone down, called out casual goodbyes, still laughing about something completely unrelated. They had no idea.

And then, just like that, Bucky was gone.

John exhaled through his nose, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the audacity. Then, without another glance at you, he pulled his arm from your grip and stood, scooting down the table to where some of the other guys sat.

Like nothing had happened.

Like you weren’t even there.

Laughter bubbled from the other side of the table, casual, easygoing.

Meanwhile, on your side, it was just you and Sam.

The silence between you was suffocating.

You swallowed hard, staring at the candle in the middle of the table like it might give you some kind of answer, some kind of out.

And then, barely above a whisper you spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Sam frowned. “I can’t stress this enough, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Your throat tightened. You blinked rapidly, a single tear slipping free before you could stop it. You wiped it away quickly, but Sam saw.

He saw.

And he didn’t look away.

For a few more seconds, you just sat there, staring at nothing, the weight in your chest making it hard to breathe. Then, suddenly, the air in the restaurant felt like too much, too hot, too stifling, too heavy.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” you said abruptly, pushing your chair back.

John’s head snapped up immediately. “What?”

You turned to him. “I’m tired. I think I’ll just head back early.”

John frowned, standing before you could even move. He grabbed your wrist, hard, his fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you flinch.

“You going by yourself?” he asked, voice low.

Sam saw.

His entire body went stiff beside you.

“I figured you wanted to stay, don’t you?” you asked John carefully, testing the waters.

John let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he finally, finally, released his grip. “Of course I do,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward his teammates. “I’m here with my buddies.”

The guys around him laughed, completely oblivious to the way the moment had just unfolded.

John turned back to you, smirking. “Wait up for me?”

You nodded mechanically. “Of course.”

His smirk widened. “That’s my girl.”

And then, without warning, he yanked you down, crushing his lips to yours.

It wasn’t a kiss.

It was a claim.

A reminder.

It was too much, too hard, too aggressive, too something but you let him do it anyway. You always did.

When he finally pulled away, he flashed you one last smile before smacking your ass, earning a laugh from the other guys and turning back to the conversation like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just bruised your wrist.

Like he hadn’t just stolen the air from your lungs.

Like he hadn’t just won.

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to move, forcing yourself to leave before you made the mistake of looking back.

[tsukivampyr]

take it out on me.

a leon kennedy x fem!reader oneshot.

warnings | fingering, unprotected sex, slight degradation and NOT proofread.

word count: 1,715

enjoy :P

Leon trudged through the door of his apartment, the faint light from the setting sun casting long shadows across the living room. His shoulders slumped, his face a canvas of weariness and frustration, as he kicked the door shut behind him with a little more force than necessary.

You looked up from your book, concerned about your boyfriend. "Leon?" You asked gently, as you put your book down on the couch. "What happened?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he ran a hand through his tousled hair, his jaw clenched tightly. You could see the tension radiating from his every muscle, the frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. He tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

"I failed," he finally muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "I was supposed to get the intel, but... I just couldn't."

Your heart ached for him. Leon was always so hard on himself, holding himself to an almost impossibly high standard. You knew how much this mission had meant to him, how much pressure he had put on himself to succeed.

You got up and approached him slowly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "It's okay. You did your best."

He pulled away, stepping towards the kitchen and yanking the fridge door open. "My best wasn't good enough," he snapped, his voice harsh. "People are counting on me, and I let them down."

You flinched at the sharpness of his words, but you understood that his anger wasn't truly directed at you. It was directed at himself, at the situation, at the unfairness of it all. Still, it stung to see him so upset.

"Leon," You began again, trying to keep your voice calm and soothing. "You've done so much good. One setback doesn't erase all of that. You'll get another chance."

He slammed the fridge door shut, his eyes dark with frustration. "You don't get it," he said, his tone softer but still edged with anger. "You don't understand what it's like out there."

You felt a pang of helplessness. "You're right," You admitted. "I don't know what it's like. But I know you. I know how hard you fight, how much you care. And I know that you'll find a way to make things right."

For a moment, he just stood there, his expression conflicted. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leaned against the counter, his anger seeming to deflate. "I'm sorry," he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face.

You walked over and wrapped your arms around him, feeling the tension in his body slowly start to ease. "It's okay," You whispered. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

Leon hugged you back, his grip tight and almost desperate. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You don't have to find out," You replied.

Leon took a deep breath, still holding you tightly. The frustration in his eyes was palpable, but beneath it, there was something else—a spark of longing, a need for release. You could feel the tension in his body, the unspent energy begging for an outlet.

"Leon," You whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "You can take your anger out on me, if you need to." You whispered quietly.

His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and confusion flickering across his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You held his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "You need to let it out," you said softly. "All the anger, the frustration. You don't have to hold back with me."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Yes," You breathed.

"I'm sure."

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process your words. Then something shifted in his expression—his eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, his lips crashing down on yours in a fierce, demanding kiss.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching up to clutch his shoulders. Leon's kiss was intense, a raw expression of all the emotions he had been bottling up. His hands roamed over your back, gripping you possessively, almost desperately.

With a growl, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. He lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the kitchen counter. His big hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart so he could step between them. You moaned softly, wrapping your legs around his waist. Leon’s kisses were growing more urgent, more insistent. He nipped at your lower lip, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you couldn't help but grind your clothed pussy onto him, your body responding to his every touch.

"You drive me crazy," he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck. "You know that?"

You tilted your head back, giving him better access. "Show me," You whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Leon didn't need any more encouragement. He kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding up your sides and under your shirt. His touch was rough, almost possessive, but it was exactly what you needed. You wanted him to lose control. His fingers dug into your skin as he lifted your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. His lips found your collarbone, then moved lower, his hot breath sending sparks of electricity through your body. You shivered, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

"God, I need you," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

"Then take me," You replied breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his. "I'm yours."

That was all it took. With a primal growl, Leon claimed your lips again, his hands working quickly to remove the rest of your clothes. The frustration and anger he'd been holding onto melted away, replaced by a fierce, unbridled passion. In that moment, nothing else mattered. All the worries, the failures, the weight of the world—they all disappeared as you lost yourselves in each other. Leon's dominant side came out in full force, and you welcomed it, matching his intensity with your own.

Leon’s desperation was palpable, his every touch ignited by a fierce need. He pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that made you gasp. His hands roamed over your skin, rough and possessive, as if he needed to claim every inch of you.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "Every part of you belongs to me."

You shivered at his words, a thrill running through you, your fingers digging into his back. "I'm yours." You whimpered.

He yanked your panties down, the fabric tearing slightly in his haste. His eyes were dark, almost wild, as he looked at you, his gaze filled with hunger and need. "Look at you," he muttered, his voice dripping with desire. "So needy, so desperate for me."

You moaned, his hands gripping your thighs once again, spreading them even wider. "Please, Leon," You begged.

"Please what?" he demanded, his lips curling into a smirk. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," You replied, your voice barely more than a breath. "I need you inside me."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers teasing your entrance. "So eager," he said, his tone dusky. "You're such a good girl for me, aren't you? So ready to take everything I give you."

You nodded eagerly, your breath hitching, as his fingers slipped inside you.

His eyes flashed with something primal, his fingers moving faster, curling inside you to find that spot that made you see stars. "That's right," he murmured. "You're mine to use, mine to fuck."

You cried out in pleasure, your body responding to his words and touch with an intensity that made your head spin.

He pulled his fingers out, and you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly replaced them with the hard length of his cock, thrusting into you with a force that made you scream. "You like that, don't you?" he grunted, his voice rough with desire.

You sob, your nails scratching down his back. "I love it."

"Good," he growled, his pace relentless. "Because I'm not going to stop until you're screaming my name."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, your body moving in sync with his. "Leon," You moaned, your voice high and desperate. "Please, don't stop."

He grinned, his lips grazing your neck. "I won't," he grunted, his thrusts growing even harder, deeper. "I want to hear you beg for it."

"Please," You begged, your voice breaking. "Please, Leon, I need you."

"That's right," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. "Beg for it. Show me how much you want it."

"I wan’ it," You cried, your body trembling with need. "I want you badly, Leon."

He groaned, his grip on you tightening. "You're so fucking perfect," he growled, his voice filled with both love, and lust. "So tight, so wet. You're made for me."

You could feel your climax building, the pleasure overwhelming. "Leon," You gasped, your nails digging into his skin. "I'm gonna- "

"Come for me," He commanded, his voice rough and raspy. "Come all over my cock."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as the orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Leon followed soon after, his own release shuddering through him as he came inside you.

You stayed like that for a moment, your bodies entwined, your breathing heavy. Leon's grip on you softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "So are you," You replied, your voice still breathless.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a softness that belied the fierceness of your earlier encounter. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers brushing your cheek. "For being there for me. For letting me... let go."

You leaned into his touch, your heart full. "Always," You whispered. "I'll always be here for you, Leon. "

[jaeminvore]

Young God | L.DH (M) — PREVIEW

READ HERE

SYNOPSIS: desperation had this funny way of skewing one’s perception, and since you were, in fact, way past the point of desperation, it wasn’t a surprise that you jumped the gun without even questioning the absurdly cheap rent price of the seemingly perfect apartment unit. What you failed to consider was the reason why it didn't cost you and arm and a leg and it soon came in the form of an incubus in your bathroom belting his heart out on a Sunday morning.

(alternatively: in which you were essentially scammed into cohabiting with a ridiculously clingy demon that lives off of sex. It could be worse. At least he staved off from sucking your soul out in exchange of you sucking something else—among other things).

GENRE: supernatural, urban fantasy, slice of life, humor, crack treated seriously, fluff, smut MDNI!

WARNINGS: incubus!hyuck, fem!human!reader, bickering, crude language (full list of warnings will be stated in the actual fic)

WORD COUNT: estimated 15K-20K (1.1K for the preview)

RELEASE DATE: 22nd of November

TAGLIST: send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged/notified when I post the fic!

NOTES: happy October! and what a better way of starting the spooky month with a preview for a fic that I've been working on (and screaming to the girls about im so sorry 😭) that fit the spooky aspect lol, but don't be fooled! This is actually funnier (and cuter) than it might initially come off 🫡

“Now where’d you run off to this early in the morning?”

You gritted your teeth, feeling a vein pulse on your temple. That voice.

Pretty privilege could come next time because at this very second, you weren’t feeling privileged being graced by the so-called prettiness, but threatened to even fully appreciate what he’s got going for him. Physically wise.

Without thinking, your hand shot out to grab the closest thing to you, an empty vase, and hurled it with all you’ve got, aiming straight for the intruder’s face who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. It was like watching everything in slow motion, how the decorative piece took its sweet time to smack his face and hopefully break his nose (best case scenario).

This was the worst case scenario, with the vase pausing in mid-air as if time just decided to stop being a thing, all in this demon’s favor.

You were actually going insane, that was the only explanation because no law of physics could explain the current state of the decorative vase—it’s still in the fucking air. Holy shit—nor did you think telekinesis could extend beyond the old, generic trick of bending spoons with your mind.

“Hey,” As if you weren’t terrified enough, the stranger peeked from one of the vase’s sides with a disapproving pout. You scooted further away until your back hit the arm rest. “I picked this out for you, y’know? Thought you’d like it.” With a lazy flick of his wrist the vase ended up floating all the way into the kitchen, much to your horror, to sit on top of the refrigerator.

“Maybe we should not throw things next time?”

Your eyes flickered towards him, dumbfounded.

“You… last night,” There really was no mistaking it. The voice already told you enough. It was all too distinct; the arrogance, the grating inflection that screamed he solely existed to get on your nerves, and it was working. “In my dream. That was you?”

“Wasn’t just last night, little human. I’ve been in all of your dreams since you moved here.” He shrugged, leaning laxly against the door frame with his arms crossed. “You were way nicer in them. Pliant,” he had two fingers up to prove whatever point he was making. “didn’t throw things at me,” and there goes the third finger.

Smoke was practically coming out of your ears as you sat up straighter, tense. “Oh, I’m sorry!” One of your hands flew to your chest, tone high and mocking. “I didn’t know I had to show proper etiquette to a fucking trespasser!” You scrambled for your phone. “Now, please leave or I will call the police—”

It happened all too fast. Too fast for your human brain to comprehend because just a second ago, you were really serious about involving the police in this. Now, you were flat on your back with the wind knocked right out of you and a lapful of the man plaguing most of your nights. The atmosphere felt heavier, now that the kittenish air surrounding him was gone and the very corner of his lips tilted down into a frown as he plucked your phone out of your hand.

“First thing’s first, no police. You won’t get rid of me that way. Second, this is my”— he pointed to himself —“home. My apartment. I was just nice enough to let you stay for how long you liked.”

“I paid for this unit you—you demon!” You didn’t even try to be subtle with the eye-rolling. Of course he would preen at the title. “If anything, it’s my apartment!”

“Okay? I tied a piece of me down to this place. My sigil is somewhere around here to prove it—meaning, I have higher authority.”

A sigil. Of course. This is your life now. Possibly sharing a space with a fucking demon of all things. Exciting, but not exciting enough to stave off your hunger and you were starting to get antsy. You were just arguing for the sake of arguing to blow off some steam and to get in the last word.

“I signed a lease. The lease has my name on it.” you said as if that was on par with whatever he was talking about (probably not).

“Technically, I signed away a part of my life, so.”

Fuck. Fine. He got you there.

“Are you always going to do this?” You resigned, wriggling underneath his weight. “You’re kinda heavy.”

“I mean if it works, right?” The demon giggled, tilting his head with a coy smile as he put more weight onto your thighs, one hand falling behind to rest on your knee. “It’s not like you complained before.”

“Technically,” (“I do not fucking sound like that.”) “you smothered me in my dreams—dreams, so they don’t count.”

Which meant that you had full control of your body out of the dreamscape, proven by the indignant yell the demon let out as he was unceremoniously pushed to the ground for the second time within the twenty-four hour time frame. It wasn’t enough to make up for the numerous times he had you under him, but for now, you were even.

“They sure do!” he exclaimed from where you left him still sprawled on the floor.

“Nope. This conversation is over.”

The stew was just about done, the soup reduced to the right amount as you switched off the stove and range hood, bathing your apartment in still quietness besides the bustling from outside. The soft padding of feet came in quick succession until warmth hovered just mere centimeters behind you.

Turning your head, the demon was there, his chin just shy of resting onto the dip of your shoulder as he peered curiously at the steaming pot.

“Is that… kimchi stew?” he wondered, taking a generous whiff and appearing just as hungry as you felt. “It is kimchi stew.”

You snickered, all animosity fading into faint amusement, “I take it that you’d like some?” It was such a human reaction that you couldn’t help but smile, reaching for the ladle.

“Please?” he pressed, amber eyes all wide and imploring. “I haven’t had a decent bowl of the stuff in, like, weeks.”

“Well, make yourself useful. Set the table, yeah? And pass me two bowls while you’re at it. You know where they are…” you trailed off, looking at him in silent question. You haven’t asked for his name, or what he would like to be addressed as.

Somehow, the demon was rather quick on the uptake, curling his lips as he pushed off to do what you asked him to.

“Haechan,” he called over his shoulder, grinning as he reached for the cupboard’s handle. “You can call me Haechan.”

note: hyuck in the banner just screamed demon to me and it may or may not have caused the brainworms still wriggling in my brain to push me into writing this (rip to my wips i had before this) like just LOOK at these photos they awoken something carnal in me and i need him biblically actually

taglist: @jaylaxies @celeste-hoon @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk

[bloodb3nders]

part four.

| shota aizawa (eraserhead) x fem!reader |

wc: 2k

content warnings: reader being stupid oops

a/n: filler chap im sowyyy

NOW PLAYING: guilty as sin? t. swift

the morning sun filtered through the windows of class 3-a as you arranged your lesson materials on your desk, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened every time footsteps echoed in the hallway. tt had been two weeks since exams had taken place, and shota's demeanor toward you had begun shifted ever so slightly. small changes that you told yourself meant nothing, but couldn't quite dismiss. eyes lingering on you longer than they should, small hellos passed between hallways, awkward conversations about the weather.

a soft knock pulled you from your thoughts. you glanced toward the door, expecting to see a student, but your breath caught when shota's familiar figure appeared in the doorway. he looked different somehow, less guarded than usual, though still maintaining that stoic expression that gave nothing away, even though years ago, you could see through it.

"sorry to interrupt," he said, his voice carrying a gentleness you hadn't heard since high school. "i brought the supplementary materials for the joint exercise next week."

you blinked, confused, your brow scrunching. "joint exercise?"

"the psychological evaluation training," he clarified, stepping into the classroom with a small stack of papers. "i thought your students could benefit from practical stress management techniques."

the students began filing in as he approached your desk, their conversations dying down as they noticed shota's presence. some of them were still just as terrified of him as they were when they were in class 1-a.

you accepted the papers, your fingers brushing against his for just a moment, the contact sending an unexpected jolt through your chest.

"thank you," you said softly, aware of twenty pairs of eyes watching the exchange with barely-concealed curiosity.

something flickered across his expression before he nodded. "your approach to psychological training is thorough. the students respond well to it." he said, before leaving your classroom, glaring at the watching students as he did.

thorough.

"your analysis of the villain's psychological profile was thorough," shota spoke, sliding into the seat beside you in the UA library. "most people would have focused on the physical quirk manifestation."

you looked up from your hero psychology textbook, and smiled at him. shota rarely ever praised you or hizashi, usually scoffing affectionately at the two of you. not to mention, hizashi wasn't the best at his course work, so he never really shared any academic achievements. however, your class had been assigned some psychology homework for a change, to better understand villain mindsets, and you'd scored the best out of the three of you.

"thanks shota! this is kind of what my mom does for a living, so i guess i just channeled her," you'd said softly, hoping the heat rising up your neck wouldn't give away how fast your heart was beating at his close proximity. "one day, after i'm done being a pro, i think i'd like to do what she does."

he nodded, his dark eyes studying your notes with interest. "i think you'd be great at that," he said softly, offering you a rare smile. you failed to notice the faint pink dusting his cheeks, to wrapped up in how giddy you felt at his compliment. trying to hide your feelings, you buried your nose back in your textbook, missing the way his eyes lingered on your face before he quietly returned to his own work.

"sensei l/n?" nejire hado's voice pulled you back to the present. "are you alright? you look a bit dazed," she spoke, and embarrassment flooded your features.

you shook your head, refocusing on your students. "sorry, just thinking about today's lesson plan. let's discuss the psychological impact of quirk discrimination in hero society," you rattled quickly, opening the textbook on your desk quickly.

but even as you launched into your lecture, your mind kept drifting to the way shota had said 'thorough.' like he'd been thinking about it, about you, for longer than just this morning.

two days later, the night brought another surprise. you were grading papers late into the night in your teacher's quarters. however, you felt sleep heavily weighing on you, as you struggled to keep your eyes open. a knock at your door startled you, a small yelp escaping your lips as you got up, and walked slowly to your door, grabbing the robe on your bed and wrapping it around your figure. you were in a baggy shirt and some tiny sleep shorts. you slipped on your slippers, before opening the door, pulling it back slowly.

on the other side of the door stood shota, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. his hair was pulled back, and you couldn't help but stare a little at the tight black t-shirt he wore and some flannel pajama pants. your heart quickens, body feeling fuzzy as you realize you've been staring at him for too low.

"brought you some coffee, assumed that it was a late night of grading when i saw that your light was still on," he said softly, and you smiled thankfully.

"thanks, i could really use this," you said honestly, taking the mug at him. you tried to ignore the way electricity surged through your fingers as they brushed his. you stood there for a moment, holding the mug, watching him for his next move.

"your lesson yesterday on trauma-informed hero work," he said quietly. "it was... insightful."

and then he was gone, leaving you with coffee that tasted like consideration and a growing suspicion that somehow this coffee was something of an olive branch.

the memory that surged to your mind hit you like a physical blow: seventeen-year-old you, exhausted and running on fumes during final exam week, slumped over your desk in the common room at 2 AM. You'd been surviving on vending machine coffee and pure determination, your notes scattered around you like fallen leaves.

you'd fallen asleep at some point, face pressed against your hero law textbook, when the gentle touch of a blanket being draped over your shoulders had stirred you awake. through bleary eyes, you'd caught a glimpse of messy black hair and tired dark eyes before the figure retreated.

"shota?" you'd whispered into the darkness.

"go back to sleep," his voice had come from somewhere across the room. "you'll hurt your neck sleeping like that."

but when you'd lifted your head, you'd found a cup of hot tea waiting beside your books, still steaming. by morning, both the tea and shota were gone, leaving you to wonder if you'd dreamed the whole thing.

you'd never asked him about it. had never been brave enough to acknowledge the small acts of kindnesses that he'd gone out of his way to do for you throughout your final year, the way he'd wordlessly slide his notes across the desk when you'd missed a class due to a training injury, how he'd always seem to appear when you were struggling with something too heavy to carry alone, the careful way he'd check on you after particularly difficult training sessions.

you'd convinced yourself it was just shota having a hard case of senior-itis. he'd totally do the same stuff for hizashi. nothing more than him being a good friend.

the pattern of small gestures continued throughout the week. extra whiteboard markers appeared when yours ran dry. relevant research articles showed up on your desk with sticky notes in his precise handwriting. your classroom's perpetually broken heating system was mysteriously fixed after you'd mentioned the problem to hizashi.

each interaction was brief, professional, but there was something underneath it all that made your skin feel too tight and your thoughts turn to dangerous territory. the way his eyes would linger on you for just a moment too long. the careful distance he maintained, like he was fighting some invisible pull. the way his voice went softer when he spoke to you, losing that sharp edge he used with everyone else.

it was during your free period on thursday that you found yourself in the teacher's lounge, grading papers and trying not to think about the way shota had looked at you that morning when he'd asked about your weekend plans. you'd been so surprised by the question that you'd probably given him a completely incoherent answer about grading and cleaning your apartment.

"you look deep in thought," hizashi's voice interrupted your brooding as he collapsed into the chair across from you. "let me guess—thinking about shota?"

you nearly choked on your tea. "what? no, I was just—"

"Oh, come on," he grinned, his voice thankfully lower than usual. "you think I haven't noticed the way your so called old crush seems to still leave you dumbstruck? it's getting painful to watch, y/n,"

"sorry you have to suffer at the expense of my feelings. he went to hating me to suddenly being nice again!" you protested. "we're colleagues now, but i know that's all it'll be."

hizashi's expression shifted to something more serious, more knowing. "you know, back in high school, I used to think you two were the most oblivious people on the planet."

your heart stuttered. "what do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "that you were both so obviously gone for each other that it was painful to watch. and apparently, some things never change."

the memory surfaced unbidden: your second year at UA, after a particularly brutal training session that had left you battered and discouraged. you'd been sitting alone on the steps outside the gym, holding an ice pack to your ribs and trying not to cry from frustration.

"rough day?" shota's voice had been gentle as he'd approached, settling beside you on the steps without invitation.

"i'm never going to be strong enough," you'd admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. "everyone else has these amazing combat quirks, and i'm stuck with these two lame blue orbs i barely know how to control. i'm just, me."

"just you?" he'd repeated, something sharp in his tone. "y/n, your quirk is one of the most versatile in our class. you can read opponents, predict their moves, understand their psychology better than anyone i've ever met. that's not 'just' anything."

you'd looked at him then, really looked, and seen something intense burning in his dark eyes. "you think so?"

"i know so," he'd said firmly. "any villain stupid enough to underestimate you is going to find themselves thoroughly outmaneuvered before they even realize what hit them."

the conviction in his voice had made your chest tight with something you hadn't been able to name. you'd wanted to tell him how much his words meant to you, how much he meant to you, but the words had stuck in your throat.

instead, you'd just whispered, "thank you, shota."

he'd smiled then, a real smile, rare and beautiful, and for a moment, you'd thought maybe, just maybe, he might feel something more than friendship for you too.

but then hizashi had burst through the gym doors, loud and exuberant, and the moment had shattered like glass.

"earth to y/n," hizashi's voice brought you crashing back to the present. "where did you go just now?"

"sorry," you mumbled, focusing on your papers to hide the flush creeping up your neck. "just tired."

"uh-huh," he said, clearly not buying it. "you know, shota asked me about you yesterday."

your head snapped up. "he did?"

"mmm," Hizashi hummed, looking far too pleased with himself. "wanted to know if you were settling in okay, if you were happy in the dorms we have. very casual, very 'just wondering' kind of questions." he said, amusement at the edge of his tone.

"that doesn't mean anything," you said quickly, but your heart was racing.

"doesn't it?" Hizashi's grin widened.

"i should get back to grading," you said quickly, gathering your papers with hands that shook slightly.

"y/n," hizashi called as you reached the door. "for what it's worth, i never told him how you felt. but i also never told you how he felt."

that evening found you in your living quarters, trying to focus on lesson planning but failing miserably. your mind kept wandering to hizashi's words, to the memories that had been surfacing all day, to the way shota had been acting lately.

your phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

"it's aizawa. the police want you on the shie hassaikai raid."

all likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! mwah!

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[wrappedinpinklace]

Out of Bounds, Chapter One.

(Author’s note!! hii everyone sorry for taking so long about getting the first chapter out, i was kinda struggling about how to pick it up from there. time skips save my life 😩, you’ll come to see that i use A LOT of those, so please forgive me. anywayssss enough of my yapping because that’s not what you came here for, please enjoy and leave your notes at the bottom!!)

“So, what else happened?” Stephanie leaned in, eyes sparkling with interest like you were about to spill the juiciest gossip Hogwarts had ever seen. Which, to be fair, you kind of were.

You groaned, arms crossing over your chest with all the drama of a Shakespearean tragedy. “Like I said—he barged into the room and stole my pen! Just—walked in, insulted my intelligence, and left with my lucky pen like he owned the place!” You said as you crossed your arms over your chest, very offended by the notion like he had committed some great crime. Well..At least on your terms he did, because that pen was your lucky pen, the one you used for every exam and happened to pass every exam by using that pen.

“Oh god, not the pen again,” Dick sighed from across the table, leaning back in his chair like he’d aged five years in the last five minutes. “You’ve been talking about that thing since first year.”

“Because it works! I’ve passed every exam using that pen. Every single one. That pen is basically blessed by Merlin himself.” You argued, grumbling to yourself about said pen.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure Merlin had better things to do.”

You ignored him. “It’s not just a pen. It’s my pen. And now he has it. Jason freaking Todd.”

Stephanie let out a gasp so dramatic you were tempted to applaud. She slapped a hand to her chest and widened her eyes like she’d just been told The Joker came back as a Hufflepuff. “The audacity!”

You glared at her. “I’m being serious.”

“And I’m being supportive,” she said, trying—and failing—to hold back a smirk.

Dick ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sure he’ll give it back. Just ask him. Nicely. Maybe try not threatening murder this time?”

“I didn’t threaten murder.”

“You implied murder.”

“Okay, well—mild bodily harm, maybe.”

You stabbed at your potatoes like they were a certain smug Slytherin’s face. “I knew I failed that exam this morning. I felt it. All because of him. It was like trying to cast a spell with a broken wand.”

“Have you considered you’re cursed?” Stephanie offered sweetly.

“I am cursed. His name is Jason Todd.” You said with a huff.

And like the devil himself had been summoned, he appeared.

He walked past your table, looking as unbothered and obnoxiously attractive as ever—hair tousled, tie loose, that stupid leather-bound spellbook he carried like he actually used it. He didn’t even look your way until the last second… and then, your eyes met.

And of course, the bastard smirked.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. No—he pulled your pen out of his pocket. Your lucky pen. Held it up with two fingers, waved it like it was a trophy, and then turned away, heading to the Slytherin table like he hadn’t just declared war.

Your mouth dropped open. “Oh. He wants to die.”

Dick groaned. “Please don’t duel my brother over a pen.”

“No promises,” you muttered, watching Jason take his seat—still holding your pen. Still smug. Still… annoyingly good-looking. You shook the thought out of your head before it could fully form.

Stephanie leaned in again. “Okay, but… what if he’s keeping it because he wants a reason to talk to you again?”

You deadpanned. “Then he should try saying ‘hi’ like a normal person and not committing a stationery-based crime.”

Later That Day

The library was dead silent, save for the soft scratching of quills and the occasional creak of wooden chairs on ancient stone flooring. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through tall stained-glass windows, casting flickers of red and gold across your notes—notes that, despite your best efforts, were a complete disaster.

You frowned down at your parchment. The ink was blotchy. Your handwriting looked like a first-year’s. And worst of all, your thoughts refused to stick to the page. You’d read the same line in Maritime Magical Law: An Overview so many times, you could quote it by heart, and yet you still couldn’t tell a siren’s code from a kelpie’s court summons.

It was hopeless. You needed your pen.

You groaned under your breath and dropped your head onto the table with a soft thud, earning a sharp shush from somewhere in the back of the library. You muttered an apology, though the real culprit wasn’t even in the room—yet.

“Y’know, you make that kind of noise too loud in this library and someone’s gonna think you’re being murdered.”

You lifted your head slowly, already knowing the voice.

Of course.

Jason Todd stood a few feet away, leaning against the nearest bookshelf like he had absolutely nowhere to be and no concern for any kind of rulebook. His tie was half undone, his sleeves rolled up, and his school robe looked like it hadn’t been properly fastened in days. And somehow—annoyingly—he still looked like something out of a dark academia dream.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you want?”

He tilted his head, giving you that maddeningly casual grin. “Just checking in on my favorite study partner.”

“I am not your—” You cut yourself off and took a deep breath. “Go away, Jason. I’m trying to study. Unlike you, I actually care about passing my exams.”

“Cute,” he said, strolling closer and dropping into the chair across from you, completely uninvited. “You know, most people would just say ‘hi.’ But I guess your hatred for me makes everything more dramatic.”

“I don’t hate you,” you snapped, too quickly. “I just strongly dislike everything about you.”

Jason looked delighted. “Mm. Progress.”

You stared at him, jaw tight, fingers twitching against the quill in your hand. It felt wrong. Unbalanced. Like you were trying to write with someone else’s wand. You glanced at his robes—no pen in sight.

“I can’t focus,” you muttered.

He leaned in slightly, elbows on the table. “Why? Because I’m distracting?”

“Because you stole my pen, you smug—dementor in a school uniform.”

Jason let out a short laugh and reached into his pocket. “So dramatic,” he murmured, placing the familiar object on the table between you. “I was going to give it back. Eventually.”

Your eyes locked on the pen like it was a lifeline. You hesitated for a second, then snatched it up, cradling it with something that might have been reverence. Your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

He raised a brow. “Was it enchanted by a seer or something?”

“It’s my lucky pen,” you said firmly, as if that explained everything. And it did. To you.

Jason leaned back, one arm thrown over the back of his chair. “Merlin, you’re intense. I bet you organize your notes by color and hex anyone who talks during class.”

“I do not—okay, I do organize my notes.” You saw the smug expression on his face and your eyes narrowed. “It’s a lot easier!” You argued.

“Thought so.”

You opened your mouth to fire back another retort, but before you could get a word out—

“AHEM.”

You froze.

Madam Hart appeared beside your table like she’d apparated from the underworld, eyes narrow and full of wrath. Her hands were clasped in front of her like she was barely resisting the urge to hex the both of you into next week.

“This is a library,” she said in a voice colder than a Dementor’s kiss. “And unless I’ve gone deaf in my old age, the two of you seem to think it’s a common room.”

“I wasn’t—he just—”

Her glare silenced you instantly, practically making you sink into your seat.

“Detention. Both of you. After classes. Don’t be late.”

You sat frozen in your chair, mouth slightly open. Detention? You?

Jason, on the other hand, looked like he’d just been offered dessert before dinner. He gave the librarian a mock salute as she walked away, and then turned back to you with a wide grin.

“I’ve missed this,” he said. “It’s been, like, two days since my last one.”

“You go to detention that often?” you whispered, scandalized.

“More than I sleep in my dorm,” he said, stretching his legs out under the table. “It’s quieter. And the chairs are comfier. Plus, Whitlock is surprisingly easy to ignore.”

You gaped at him. “This is my first detention. Ever. I’ve never even had a warning before.”

Jason looked far too amused. “Aw, are you nervous?”

“I’m horrified.” You said already thinking about the howler you were going to receive from your parents if they found out. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and way too smooth. “I’ll be there to hold your hand.”

You narrowed your eyes, snatched your books up, and stood. “If you touch my hand, I’ll hex it off.”

But even as you stomped off, you could feel his grin burning into your back. And for some stupid reason, your heart was beating just a little faster.

[ghostbustting]

vampire!Nikki sixx x reader smut where Nikki is just fucking the daylights out of her and won't stop commenting on her heart rate (superhearing) like the smug man he is.

Sorry if you don't write stuff like this feel free to reject, I just thought this sounded hot.

Love you 🩵

don't usually write stuffs like this, but hope I did well !! :")

╰┈➤“𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑫„ ๋࣭⭑

Vampire!Nikki Sixx x Reader

Contains Smut and Blood.

The moment I stepped out into the city late at night like this, I knew it might mean trouble. Los Angeles was wild. Too wild, perhaps. You’d see people driving in cars and blasting music loudly, people partying here and there, even some fights. But here I am, only trying to make my way back home from work.

My steps weren’t calm, yet weren’t so fast either. I would’ve chosen a taxi. But I wasn’t taking the chance of getting into a taxi with a creep again. However, was walking any better?

Surely not.

The road was crowded, sure. But not every one of them would seem to give a fuck if a woman was approached by creeps, no matter how obvious a scene is going on, some of them would most likely just avoid the scene in order to ‘protect’ themselves.

Hence, I take shortcuts along my way home. Not saying it’s any safer, but it would be useful if any sketchy dudes with big hairs, leather jackets, and tattoos were going your way.

I walk into the alleyway, the lights of L.A that were always so bright, turned dim and flickering in this area. Puddles of god knows what liquid were everywhere, I had to do my best to avoid them. Which is why, black shoe soles were better in this case, hiding what would be a fucking dirty sole.

However, my steps stops when I see a figure ahead of me. His body tall, dyed black hair big and long enough to hide the back of his neck, he was dressed in black, big boots and gloves covering what would be his slender fingers.

Another thing about the Los Angeles, is that not every corner of The City of Angels was always filled with angels.

Some of the Angelenos tends to stay in the dark late at night, blending perfectly well into the shadows like a camouflage and lurking slowly behind you, catching you off guard the moment you notice them and their demeanor.

Their cold skin seems to look pale by nighttime, teeth pointy if you got the chance to see them talk, often longing for blood, their eyes always as sharp as a razor, cutting through the person’s head each time they were gazed at.

Not a single heart beat would manage to escape their ears that can hear thousands and thousands of noises all at once. But if you run, you stand no chance as they move deadly fast.

I gulped and slowly take a step back, trying not to make any triggering sound. Yet the puddle my shoe just happen to step on betrays me, making a small noise yet loud enough for him to hear.

His body turned around, his greyish green eyes meeting mine in an instant, the way he holds his eye contacts never failed to make my heart thumps loudly, which I hated, knowing he can hear them with such ease. His presence always had it’s way to seduce me, it takes a lot in me to hold back the secret desire in me to feel him.

I’ve encountered Nikki Sixx a couple times before, sometimes when he’s playing with his band, sometimes in situations like this, often finding it easy to avoid him and the troubles he’d surely bring towards my way, even though he never went too far over flirting. But seems like today just wasn’t my luck as he immediately went to me and pinned me up against the alley’s wall.

My breath hitched as I look up at him, a small grin on his lips now, his sharp teeth just slightly peeking out. “Got you now..” He murmured, the proximity between us making me able to take a sniff of his intoxicating cologne, the scent filling my nostrils as if I just walked into a fragrance boutique.

“..I’m just trying to go home..” I say sternly in order to make my statement crystal clear to him. I try to keep my eyes on his, trying to make him think I’m not scared. Which, I am, partially that is. In a way, I don’t think he’d hurt me. The thing he does might be very unexpected, but one thing about him is that his true desires are visible right in those eyes of his like a window to his heart.

Nikki chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lean down close to my ears, his cold breath meeting right against my skin, sending shivers up my spine as I stiffen up. “Then why don’t you let me take you home?” His hands slowly make their way towards my hips.

I froze and clear my throat before trying to speak again, “I don’t—”

But before I knew it, he cut my words of protest off as he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder before he start run.. really fast. I yelp and hold onto his head tightly, grasping onto his hair. “What the fuck, Sixx?!?” I screamed, punching his shoulder over and over again as if it’d stop him.

The not so humanlike speed he had in his run made my heart beat fast, afraid of falling off, even though the firm hold he have on my hips are supposed to be enough to keep from falling. “Slow down! Fuck!” I protest, holding onto him for dear life and closing my eyes.

“Oh you’ll scream that again later!” He laughed like a maniac. I blush when I realize what he meant, smacking his shoulder again in response. I can’t tell whether to be flustered or feel the need to kill him, thought the possibility of the latter seems very very impossible.

Next thing I knew, we came into a stop.

Slowly, my eyes starts to flutter open while Nikki lay me down on my bed.. I flinch and look around, shocked to find us in my bedroom in a flash of light. It felt like only 5 seconds ago we were still in that nasty empty alleyway.

“How the fuck—"

I was cut off yet again when Nikki made his way on top of me on the bed, he was hovering over my figure with that same devilish grin he wore the whole time.

My breath got stuck in the middle of my throat as he towers over my body and took the back of one of his hand to caress my cheek. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” He whisper, then he paused before chuckling to himself, his sharp fangs being shown even more clearly now. “Well woops, that one’s a lie.”

Though I tried so hard to act like he doesn’t intimidate me one bit. Yet of course, my heart beat was too easy for him to detect and use as a proof of my intimidation, along with the heavy breaths I let out, each noise his ears catches making his grin even wider and devilish.

The eyeliner around his eye made the color of his eyes even more lighter and intriguing, those green eyes of his so majestic with the moonlight that peeks from my window shining his way, illuminating and spotlighting every single features that face of his owns.

Each blink my eyes made, they open to a different vision of him, each new vision, another new breathtaking features of his takes ahold of my attention while he continued to grin down at my statue-like state.

“Let me have you..” His voice echoes in my mind, like a sweet seduction for me to open up my heart, to let my desire take over my body just like the way his own desire take over his body. “I’ll take.. very good.. care of you..”

When his face leaned down even more, my eyes slowly flutter close on it’s own, acting as a permission for him to take an act.

Next thing I know, his hands clawed on my clothes and rip them apart with his strong bare hands, meanwhile his lips immediately move to mine, his kiss already passionate and rough from the moment our lips touched, his movements driven by lust and a burning flame in him.

I always knew no matter how wild this man can be, there are always much more deeper and wilder layers to unfold within him. And that is exactly what I’m doing right now.

Something in me myself burned, as if he shared that flame with me through our locked lips. My hands tugged on his hair while small gasps leaves me when my body became fully exposed within minutes, the fabrics that once covered my body were thrown away, his cold hands roaming over my warm body, the difference between our body temperature only making things even more intense.

Suddenly, I feel his fangs sink into my bottom lip, wincing when he licked up the blood that leaks from my lip and pull back from me, smirking as he starts to undress himself.

“Nikki..” I softly whisper, squirming on the cold sheets.

His finger then meets my lips, sushing me while he slowly take off his clothes.

With each fabric removed, more of his pale skin reveals itself, seducing me to touch him. His clothes were thrown to the floor, joining my own pile of ripped up clothes. I watch his body silently, the tattoos he had on his arms, the way his chest rise and fall, the happy trail leading down to his hard cock.

Then back up to the grin on his face as he slowly spread my legs apart. He was so tempting, his hands as cold as ice while he touch me with such lust in his eyes.

With his cock in his hand, he lead it to my cunt and slipped it in with such ease, almost immediately taking control over my hips and thrusting in and out of me with a surreal speed.

I gasp and grasp onto the sheets around me, squirming at the feeling of his cock filling every spot in me, the pleasure building up inside of me and pushing out dirty noises from my lips, the noises that only made him grin even more, his fangs showing much clearly.

His thrusts were incredibly fast, too fast to the point I can’t even keep up any more with it, yet it haven’t even been 5 minutes since he’s been inside me. My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, my lips apart as I moaned out his name.

“Nikki..! Fuck..! Slow down..!”

“Feel good huh?!” He laughed a sinister laugh that fills my ears.

“So good..!” I nodded and pant for breath, desperate to have control of myself again. But this man above me was way stronger and powerful than I am, he knew way too much how to please me, or rather please himself.

His cock continued to thrust in and out of my tight hole, our skin meeting each other each time he thrusts, creating a loud slapping noise that harmonize along with my moans and his groans.

I could tell that he was losing control over himself, his head thrown back and he was letting out the loudest groan ever before he lean down and bury his face in my neck.

I thought nothing of it until I feel those sharp fangs strikes blood again, this time on my neck while he suck on the blood desperately, tasting me. I wince and held onto his back, tears building up in my hazy eyes.

Another sinister laugh leave his lips as he connects his lips to mine, making me taste my own blood on his tongue.

One of his hand that was previously on my hips trails up to my chest, his fingernails lightly caressing over the skin of my chest, making me arch my back and yearn for more of his touch.

“Your heart.. it’s beating very loud..” I can practically hear the grin in his voice as his nails gently press against my skin, making me think his nails are going to sink into my skin and steal my heart that is uncontrollably pounding very fast and loud. “I bet it’s for me, hmm? No man can give you this much pleasure, yes?”

The feeling of his cock continuously hitting that special spot in me made it hard for me to even utter out a single letter.

“Answer me!”

“YES!!”

I moaned out, my fingernails creating a big scratch mark down his back, making him groan and laugh once more before accelerating his thrusts. “What a slut.. your little heart’s practically beating out of your chest.. and it’s all for me.. your heart’s all mine..”

The tension behind his voice and choice of words only made the pleasure more unbearable, my toes curling as my legs shake, his hands still taking full control of my hips. “Yes! Yes!” I continued to pant out, not even able to breathe correctly.

Suddenly, I can feel my walls close up around his member, squeezing him in as I feel a strong knot on my stomach, my eyes wide and filled with tears that now stains my cheeks. “I need to cum.. please please let me..” I beg, half sobbing.

“Let go, baby.” He then held my legs up and place them on his shoulders, pausing before he thrusts even faster now.

Screams escapes my mouth as his faster thrusts pulls out the strongest release from me ever, my back arching off the sheets beneath me while his hips’ movement slowly falters as he fills me up with his seeds, shooting in white streaks all around my hole before pulling out.

As I try to take control of my breathing, his body plopped onto the spot beside me, pulling me close to his chest. “Told you I’d take care of you..” He panted out with that same grin never leaving his face.

I scoffed out a chuckle and rest my head on his chest, still panting. “What.. Whatever..”

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down just like mine is, though I did not hear a single heart beat the whole time I rest on his chest.

But I suppose that’s just what he is.

A cold-blooded creature with a once dead heart that’s been brought back to live.

[eriace]

high score ; gaku

oneshot & fluff ↪ in which gaku meets a girl who beats his score in resident evil, and it becomes the best loss of his life. ↷ gaku ; sakamoto days

↳ an order of frappuccino from anonymous in the comeback cafe event !

THE ARCADE REEKED of soda syrup and victory. Gaku didn’t mind the stickiness underfoot or the faint hum of faulty lights above. All he cared about was Resident Evil: Aftershock, the vintage cabinet tucked away in the back like a holy shrine to horror and high scores.

His name—GAK—had owned the leaderboard for months.

Until today.

He stood dead still in front of the machine, the screen flickering smugly.

1ST – Y/N Score: 1,295,800

“No way,” he muttered. “No. Freakin’. Way.”

That game was his pride. His therapy. His one safe outlet to blow off steam without anyone dying for real. Gaku’s fingers curled into fists as he scanned the area for this mysterious “Y/n.” He expected some overconfident nerd with a superiority complex, maybe another assassin in disguise.

He didn’t expect... her.

Her clothes are soft and comfy—oversized sweaters, cozy cardigans, and flowy skirts that move with quiet grace. She wears small details that make her look sweet and approachable, like tiny bows in her hair or delicate jewelry that catches the light.

She sat in front of a nearby racing game, intensely looking at the screen as she tried to overtake someone in-game.

Gaku blinked as she looked harmless. But she had dethroned him. And he needed answers as he approached like a man on a mission.

“You the one who topped the Aftershock board?”

She didn’t even flinch, just looked straight at the screen in front of her and answered, “Yeah. Why? You mad?”

“Little bit,” he said honestly.

She finally looked at him, assessing. “You GAK?”

He nodded as she smirked. “Sorry, man. You were good. I was just better.”

Something about the way she said it—calm, not cocky—made his irritation morph into curiosity. She gestured toward the machine.

“You wanna try beating me?”

He did. And he failed.

Three times.

And with every loss, he grew more fascinated. She wasn’t just good—she played with intent, with precision, like she saw patterns he didn’t. And when she wasn’t blowing off zombie heads, she was surprisingly easy to talk to.

Gaku found himself returning every weekend.

It became routine: monster energy drinks, shared snacks, and hours of horror gameplay while they talked about everything from movie tropes to the weirdest arcade machines.

He didn’t realize it had changed—they had changed—until one rainy evening when the power briefly flickered, and she instinctively grabbed his sleeve.

He looked at her. Her face was half-hidden in the arcade light, but her grip didn’t loosen.

“Sorry,” she said softly, “I hate when the lights flicker.”

Gaku shrugged, but his voice was gentler than usual. “It’s cool. I got you.”

She smiled, a little shy,“You always do.”

And just like that, something clicked.

-

WEEKS LATER, THEY sat in front of the machine again, a co-op run loaded up. They were quiet, shoulders brushing now and then. He’d stopped noticing the game. He noticed her.

Between levels, he spoke without thinking.

“Y’know… I think I like you more than the game now.”

Her character froze mid-run, “…what?”

He blinked, realizing what he just said. His ears turned red. “Uh—like. Not like-like. Or maybe yeah like-like. Whatever. Just—y’know what I mean.”

She stared at him, lips parting, and then—

“You’re an idiot.”

He nodded, defeated.

Then she smiled.

“But I like you too, stupid.”

The game timed out behind them, the words GAME OVER flashing across the screen. But somehow, it felt like they’d just won.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.

[saerins]

⋆୨ chapter seven ୧˚ till forever falls apart

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter six - redefines in every way what love is - end ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 8.8k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, suggestive scenes, mentions of blood/children | notes: we have finally reached the end of infy !! rejoice i will no longer be able to torture you guys with the ending of this hehe but i do hope you all enjoyed this ^_^ & now onto the next !

“I came here to talk to her.”

There’s no speck of kindness left in Sae’s eyes when he looks at what’s left of his former lover. He doesn’t even notice you sauntering up behind him.

“How many times do I need to tell you to leave us alone?” Sae emphasises that last part, uncertain of how else he can possibly phrase it so that she makes herself scarce.

For the first time tonight, Mirin doesn’t even pay attention to Sae. Her eyes look past him, focused entirely on you.

You take your position next to Sae, feeling his hand tenderly grip onto your wrist. At the very least, it gives you comfort knowing that he’s here no matter what’ll happen. Though, judging by the ever slight panic you can make out from Mirin’s face, whatever it is isn’t pretty.

Mirin doesn’t say a word, only stares at you expectantly. Swallowing your ego, you nod subtly. You’re curious.

“I’m sorry,” comes out of her mouth, and you don’t know how to feel. There’s a lot of things she needs to be sorry for, but that’s your personal feelings. Somehow, you doubt it’s related to anything with regards to Sae.

“If that’s all you came to say—”

“Do you know about your parents?” Mirin ignores Sae again, instead looking to you.

Sae’s about to just shut the door in her face when you tug on his hand, stopping him. He’s perplexed by you, but he listens to you just the same.

“Yeah, barely. What about it?” 

Because Sae did tell you briefly about it, about his suspicions on what they’re trying to do. You have to admit, having Oliver and his family’s PI stalk your parents wasn’t on your bingo card this year. And what he’s suspicious of never even crossed your mind. Only because even if they aren’t the best parents in the world, you didn’t think that they’d actually let any harm come upon you.

To think, they would try to take all of the money, not only their own but yours too, in order to save their own asses.

Mirin almost looks like she doesn’t want to say anything, her fingers grasping tightly and desperately on the hem of her dress before opening her mouth and making your heart sink to the depths below.

“The police are coming and it’s my fault and I know I haven’t done anything to earn your trust but can you please let me handle it?”

She says it all in one breath. Hurriedly without pause.

Are the police already that close?

“What the fuck, Mirin?” Sae spits, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you behind him, the vein on his forehead close to popping.

Mirin swallows the lump in her throat and you’re left staring in a daze behind your husband, wondering what you’ve done that was so wrong that you deserved this; your parents, a scorned and jealous ex-lover, legal threats.

“Sae, please,” Mirin’s panicking and you wonder why that is. Correction, you can sense why—it’s plain old regret. Regret caused by rash actions done on impulse. “It’s my fault, I know but we don’t have time. Tabito’s trying to stall them but they’re coming.” Her eyes flicker over to you, and you’d think she’s beautiful if all you’re seeing isn’t just red.

You feel the injustice creeping up inside of you, threatening you to take action. “And why the hell should I trust you?” Your tone is harsher than you ever thought you could go, and even Mirin shrinks back at the venom she senses laced inside your words.

And usually you’d feel bad for it but someone has already called the cops on you for something you didn’t do and that someone is right in front of you asking you for the same trust she wouldn’t have afforded you if the roles were reversed. If you didn’t have any self control, you’d have slapped her by now.

Mirin’s about to say something when she hears seven tight raps on the door. As Sae reluctantly moves away to open the door, Mirin whips her head towards you one last time.

“Please.”

The last thing she deserves is a chance. You know that. Both your head and your heart are in the same place for once and yet why can’t you act on it? Why can’t you just tell her to shove it up her ass?

“Y/N,” Sae calls your name, hushed because you presume he’s just as cautious as you are.

Slowly, you nod your head, signalling for him to open the door. You don’t know what Mirin is planning, or whether all this is part of her evil plot to take you down somehow.

When the door opens, you see Sae’s friend, Karasu, stepping in first before a detective, a dirty blonde with dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept for days. Behind him, two policemen stand guard, watching you cautiously, as though you might try to jump out the window just to run from them.

“Are you Y/N?”

The detective is addressing you, and you’re sure he’s only doing it out of courtesy because these people always do their work before nabbing their supposed targets. Beside you, Mirin steps one step forward, her earlier panic expertly masked by a puzzlingly professional expression. From your line of sight, behind where the detective stands, Sae tries to move toward you, only to have Karasu reach out to grab his wrist and keep him there, a subtle shake of his head as the only signal for him not to make any moves.

“I am,” you respond, because any under or overreaction would only prove to make you look guilty.

“What is this about, detective?” Mirin asks, a casual aloofness donned on her face now. You’re impressed by just how quickly she can change her moods.

“Oh, it’s you, Ms Seto,” the detective says, realising who she is, and you don’t doubt how influential her father’s been to all of Japan with his work. Immediately, his face softens and brightens up, as though it’s imperative that he stay on their family’s good side. He probably assumes that just because Mirin’s here in this hotel room that she’s close to you. “We received an anonymous tip regarding Ms L/N’s family here, as well as her possible involvement. We’d like to take her down to the station for some questioning.”

So that’s what Mirin had done to you. She had tried to pin part of what your parents are doing on you, too. You nearly scoff if not for the fact you know that the two policemen behind are watching you like a hawk. Mirin is the one who scoffs though, crossing her arms like she’s been through these situations a thousand times.

Beside you, any trace of guilt is absent from Mirin’s expression because apparently, and you don’t doubt it, she’s a very good actress. If it’s up to you, you’d say that her talents are wasted since she’s not one. And while your stubborn ego wants to solve this for yourself, you’d never even gotten in trouble with the local police before for anything, and something tells you that Mirin is way better than you are at this, so you keep your mouth shut and let her handle this like she asked.

“So you have no proof of any sort that she’s complicit in any illegal activities?”

The detective chuckles helplessly, like he expects Mirin to be that attentive. “No, not until the anonymous tipper provides us with what they say they have.”

Mirin’s expression falters just slightly for a split second before she’s back to normal. “So no concrete proof, then?”

“No, ma’am.” The detective seems a little laid back around her—are they family friends? Sure seems like it to you.

“Then I’d appreciate it if you don’t treat Y/N here like she’s some sort of criminal. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing her being escorted into a police car and making assumptions, would we?”

Behind him, Sae seems to have relaxed a little, lacking the earlier blind hostility he held. Maybe it partly has to do with whatever Karasu whispered to him right before this. Still, he’s as surprised as you are that Mirin’s committing herself to covering for you.

“Fine, we’ll meet at the station then,” the detective says, the mirth still on his face as he bids a temporary goodbye.

When all that’s left are the four of you, Sae immediately takes his place beside you, his hand possessively gripping your wrist, an accusatory look thrown in Mirin’s direction. “You did all of that just to mess with my wife?”

Mirin’s expression falters when he uses that term again, for you, because deep down, she still wishes for it to be her. She still wishes for that guy she fell in love with and made all those plans with to be hers. Hers, and no one else’s. But it’s evident enough that no matter how much she tries, even if you somehow ended up dead, it would never be her. He’d rather wait for the ghost of you than live with anyone else.

Karasu walks over, settling himself between the divide. He’s the one who seems the most sane, given this has almost nothing to do with him. “Sae, leave it for now,” Karasu advises, blocking Mirin’s line of sight. You presume he’s just doing it as a favour, maybe to simmer Sae’s anger, because you can feel his hands trembling with rage even as they hold on to you. “We need to get Y/N to the police station before this gets any worse for her and her sister.”

Your throat goes dry. “My sister? She’s been taken in too?”

How ironic that you were doing all this just to protect her from the harsh reality that your parents never loved either of you.

Karasu nods apologetically. “My sources say she was taken in about half an hour ago, but discreetly.”

The passive anger that was only settling on the surface seems to finally boil over, and you thank god that Sae is holding you back from possibly harming Mirin. Otherwise, you’d have probably punched her right now.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Her voice is timid and she’s trembling but you don’t hold an ounce of appreciation for her earlier actions nor sympathy for her current emotions. This was all because of her. Her, and your parents, and you doubt you’re enough of a saint to forgive either parties.

“If anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you regret it.” Your words are a warning, and Mirin takes them in silently.

Maybe you have been too nice, and way too passive. To the point where people like Mirin felt like they could try their best because they had nothing to fear. At the very least, it still comforts you knowing that Sae was never trying to get anywhere with her. If not, it was the very opposite, though you still didn’t appreciate his lack of communication.

“Hey, I’ll drive us there, okay?” Sae tells you softly, his hand tugging yours gently, briefly washing the anger off of you. When you face him and nod, he smiles, his hand coming up to place your head against his shoulder as he walks you to the car, Karasu and Mirin trudging wordlessly behind. You let him lead the way, finding an odd sense of comfort, different from before.

Now, you know that Sae will protect you unconditionally. He’s been doing it up until now, even when you weren’t his favourite person. Despite his shortcomings, despite the fact that he had no obligation to, Sae was always on your side.

And maybe now you can see a glimpse of the future you imagined, the one where you get unconditional love, the one where you can see a happy family who’s not just obsessed with money. A proper one, with its very foundations built on love and not control over another.

When you get to the carpark, you see Mirin getting into Karasu’s car, and you silently thank him for going out of his way to get involved in all of this. The last thing you need is to be able to see Mirin in the rearview mirror of your husband’s car, sitting there as though she deserved any sort of comfort. If you could, you’d stuff her in the trunk and tell her to deal with it.

However, even without her there, both of you stay relatively quiet. Maybe because neither of you have ever been in this type of situation; neither of you know what to say. Even so, as he pulls in to the parking lot of the station, he takes your hand, squeezing it gently, his teal eyes gentle as they fall into your gaze.

“No matter what, I promise you, I’ll protect you, okay?”

You don’t doubt his words. You nod, squeezing his hand back, tightly because you’re more nervous than he is. You’d probably have to face the interrogation alone, or at the most with Mirin, and who knows what she might pull in there?

“Hey, hey,” he calls out to you softly, his other hand coming up to your cheek and turning you to face him, his forehead pressing against your own, eyes still locked on yours, his smile the gentlest you’ve ever seen. “We’ll get through this. Whatever you decide, whatever you want to do, I’ll take your side, okay baby?”

Maybe it’s the way the pet name so easily rolls off your tongue, but you still find your heart skipping a beat at such a simple gesture.

“Ready?”

You take a deep breath, nodding.

“Ready.”

While you’re in the room with Mirin and the detective, Sae finds himself pacing the waiting room restlessly despite Karasu’s attempts at calming him down.

The raven-haired man cocks a brow, amused by what he sees because Itoshi Sae of all people getting restless is always interesting. Usually, he doesn’t even get to see Sae bothered at all. The last time he saw that sliver of emotion was, well, back when Mirin left.

“Dude, relax, your wife will be fine.” That’s all Karasu can offer now, pointless words of assurance. Though he can argue he’s been plenty useful when calming Mirin down back at the hotel. 

Sae shoots him a warning look. “With Mirin in there?”

Karasu sighs, leaning back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t recall knowing when exactly things got so fucked up between them.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck was up with her, I’ll be honest,” Karasu explains, the only person there with any hint of pity for Mirin. “She fucked up, she knows. And you don’t gotta forgive her, really. If it were me I’d have handled it much less classier than your wife did. But trust me, Mirin’s trying to make up for it right now, okay? We can’t do anything so relax.”

Silence falls over them for a while, the sounds of the landlines ringing and clacking of keyboards the only things they can hear.

“What did you say to make her regret it?”

Because Sae’s at the very least curious about why she was so quick to rescind her punishment for you.

His friend shrugs, “is it hard to believe it could be something as simple as realising she didn’t wanna lose you completely?”

The earlier hostility leaves Sae’s body, only a bitter upset lingering behind. Because he can believe it, because at the core, Mirin’s always been simple. The way she acts out, not so much. She’d already alienated Sae by having been the object of his affection once, and that was not her fault, but she’d exacerbated it by acting completely out of line. On the tip of her impulsiveness was just the last chance to either possibly redeem herself or risk thorough destruction of whatever was left of their entire relationship through the years.

Maybe it’s heartless of him, but he doesn’t care. Yeah, he should’ve handled it better in the beginning. He should’ve just told Mirin that he doesn’t want to be someone who wrecks his own home, even if it didn’t feel exactly like home back then. But you didn’t deserve the anger she placed onto you. After realising his feelings, that was where he drew the line. 

He doesn’t give a shit if Mirin woke up and regretted her actions. He doesn’t care if she’s trying to make up for it and save you. All he cares about is you and just you.

Sensing the tension in the air, Karasu forces a lighthearted chuckle. “What kind of magic does Y/N have to make someone like you so whipped, huh?”

There’s a pink hue to Sae’s cheeks at the mention of it, forcing him to look away as Karasu snickers at him.

“Look… don’t get mad, okay? But… do you think it’s possible she knew about it all?”

Never in his life has Sae’s fingers curled into a fist so fast, nails digging into his palms so hard, and Karasu has to throw his hands up in the air in surrender. Both of them know that if anything happens, they’re going to be recorded—and then the media will see it. And then everything will be taken out of context.

It’s routine at this point.

“She had nothing to do with it, so shut it.”

Does Sae know for sure that you don’t? Of course not. He doesn’t have evidence to support you, except that your parents left you behind. If your family’s really twisted, it could all be a part of some ploy. But Sae likes to think he knows you; you’re not sick or twisted. You’re kind and beautiful and trustworthy that he’s not even going to entertain the idea that you knew anything.

It isn’t long after that Sae spots you walking out of the interrogation room, down the corridor and back out to him. For the most part, at least you look fine. You’re trembling a little, so he clasps his hands over yours, holding you to him and kissing the top of your head.

“Hey, you doing okay?”

You can only manage a weak nod, but that’s enough for him. This situation can be a bit much for anyone. He holds you close like that, his warm body cloaking your own. You hate how it’s so easy for you to calm down when he’s here with you, and even if you’d like to condemn him for making such a whirlwind for your life you know it’s not technically his fault.

It was your parents who forced you into this marriage, or else you’d never have met Sae at all. It was Mirin who took it upon herself to try and ruin everything when Sae had refused her. And it was definitely your parents who took all their money and ran before they could get caught for multiple counts of fraud and embezzlement.

All Sae ever did was save your own money, all thanks to making that joint account. Otherwise, your parents would’ve made off with your money too, leaving you with no cent to your name, all properties seized.

You hold him a little tighter now, the tiff over what you thought was going on between him and Mirin seeming so stupid in comparison. Your own parents abandoned you and your sister, looked at you as just a pawn to get what they wanted. You don’t even know how you’re going to face Sae’s parents now that this happened.

A minute later, Mirin also waltzes out of the room, her feigned arrogance still present because the detective is still there. You gaze at them out of the corner of your eye; things only went so easy there because Mirin played her family’s cards right, and now both you and your sister are free to go.

In normal situations, this is where you thank her. But nothing about this is normal, and this was a situation partly borne out of Mirin’s impulsiveness. So all you manage is not paying her back with a slap.

“If you hear anything—”

“We’ll call you,” Sae cuts the detective off, his grip around you getting tighter.

Even if everything had been rocky earlier tonight, you find yourself comforted by the way you just know that Sae would protect you no matter what. You don’t even have to ask him, and he’d do right by you. For a moment, you wonder if this is the kind of unconditional love you’d always wanted.

“Hey, are you okay? Wanna go now?”

Sae’s voice is softer than you thought he could ever be, and all you want to do is melt into his embrace without thinking about anything but unfortunately the world is never so kind and neither is your mind because there’s a thousand questions running through it.

“Where’s my sister?”

“I got her to wait in Karasu’s car with her boyfriend. His car has more privacy and I thought it’d be best if no one outside could picture us.”

Right, because there are already some reporters who got hold of the news and are waiting right outside to ambush you into answering their questions. It’s all sorts of fucked up but you presume your parents are worse so you can’t really say anything.

Sae starts to lead the way to the carpark, his hand never leaving your side. He makes sure to look around, make sure nobody’s there to ambush you. Behind you, you can hear Karasu whispering things you can’t hear, probably to Mirin.

“That would mean there won’t be any space for her, right?” You ask, your mind still doing flips back and forth between being the bigger person and being petty about it. Because you’d love to be as ruthless as she once was to you, but ultimately, you don’t want to feel like you owe her anything.

As you reach the car, Karasu unlocks it, and Sae opens the back door, your sister sound asleep on the other side, her boyfriend muttering a soft ‘hello’. They both look tired, and you don’t blame them. At least you had Sae to warn you about what was going on, but to them it must’ve been a shock, especially for your poor sister who’s always been sheltered against the horrible things your parents could do.

“It’s fine, she can take the train,” Sae mutters, purposefully loud enough for Mirin to hear and hopefully get the hint.

Karasu’s about to suggest otherwise, but you interject—you’re pretty sure you’re the only one Sae will listen to now anyway. Even if Karasu tries to say anything, there’s a high chance that it’ll go ignored.

“She can sit in the front,” you say, because despite knowing better, it’s always been in you to try and be nice.

“Thank—”

“If she ends up getting pictured, it could blow back on us anyway,” you mutter coldly, because being nice doesn’t mean you have to make it apparent. There’s no one here you have to impress anyway, and Sae probably knows you’re just trying to hold it together for yourself, so you won’t have any regrets.

Like you predicted, Sae’s not all for it, but he doesn’t say a thing, following after you into the backseat, squeezing and trying not to wake your sister. Mirin doesn’t say a thing the whole way back, she only thanks Karasu for driving her back and leaves. Neither does Karasu say a thing, awkward silence hanging in the air as you catch him casting quick glances at you and Sae in the rearview mirror.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” you whisper to your sister’s boyfriend as he carries her out of the car. You didn’t get to talk to her all night, but that’s fine, you suppose she needs a long rest after everything she found out tonight.

He shoots you a helpless smile after he presses a kiss onto her forehead. The way he looks at her alone could make people believe in love, and you’ve never been more thankful that you tried your best to protect it. Among everyone, your sister’s always been good and kind, and even if you’ve never seen her around that much after university started for her, you love her all the same.

“You sure you don’t wanna wake her?” He asks you, quietly so he doesn’t disturb her. “She said she missed you, you know.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I’ll call her when things settle down,” you assure him, managing a genuine smile. “Take care of her, okay?”

Behind you, Sae smiles to himself when he figures out he must’ve married an angel, must be the luckiest man in the world. Despite everything that’s happened, you should be taking care of yourself, yet you managed to make sure Mirin got a ride home, and that your sister is in good hands. You’re a much bigger person than Sae can even dream to be and yet somehow, you chose to put all your effort into him and this marriage and even if he can’t tell where this will go from now on, he’s not going to give up on you.

When Karasu pulls out of your sister’s apartment parking, Sae slides over to your side, sitting himself on the middle backseat, putting an arm around you and gently placing your head in the crook of his neck. Then, only then, do you let your tears go, sobbing into his chest because you’d been holding back all this time, and Sae wonders if you do this a lot on a daily basis; put on a brave face as though you need to pretend you’re something you’re not. Though, if this was happening to him and Rin, he would be doing the same thing you are.

In the driver’s seat, Karasu finally understands why Oliver’s been saying Sae is a changed man. Even back then, with Mirin, Karasu doesn’t recall Sae being this gentle. Maybe it’s because he’s older now, or maybe it’s just because of you—the fact that it’s you, that’s why Sae is like this at all, a privilege only for a special person.

“Hey man,” Karasu calls out to Sae after you get out of the car. He smirks when Sae looks over at him, very much like a hopeless man in love because out of the corner of his eye, Karasu can tell that he has his hand in yours, keeping you there. Since when was he ever this clingy? “Congratulations.” Something he didn’t get to say because he wasn’t at the wedding.

But at least saying it now, he can really mean it.

Sae smiles subtly, but your head pops back into Karasu’s field of view before your husband can say anything.

“Hey, Karasu, right?”

He looks surprised, but he smiles at you all the same. “Yes, I am.”

You grin at him, and Karasu can already tell Sae’s a lucky man. Pretty wife, and from whatever Oliver’s mentioned, it sounds like you’re a keeper.

“I just met you tonight but… thank you, really,” you tell him, and he chuckles. 

You’re really something, because even Mirin had mentioned it to him earlier when she was having a full-on breakdown, when he had asked about you. Karasu thinks that it would just be a lot easier to think screw everyone and just focus on yourself, but apparently, not for you. Maybe he understands a little more of why Sae can’t help but fall for you.

“That’s a lot of shit to unload on someone who didn’t exactly steal Sae from you,” Karasu remarked, trying his best to steer Mirin in the right direction.

Mirin clicked her tongue, annoyed because she knew she wasn’t exactly acting with common sense. All she had wanted was to remove you from the picture, through any means necessary. So why? Why was it that whatever she tried would backfire on her? Why was it that no matter what, Sae would never give up on you? Where was the guy that so easily gave in when Mirin had suggested a breakup?

Why did she have to teach him everything only for you to get everything she ever wanted?

“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you keep doing this…” Karasu trailed off, sighing as he looked away, scratching his head. “You’re really gonna lose every ounce of a friend you could possibly have in Sae.”

Mirin kept quiet for a while, then, as if she was considering something. Back then, Karasu hadn’t even known that anonymous tip she sent in to the police. If he had, he would’ve definitely acted faster.

“Is that Y/N even that bad of a girl?” Karasu thought out loud, wondering why there was all this trouble over you and Sae.

And for the first time since she got back to Japan, Mirin was completely honest with herself.

“No, she’s not.” (It was so quiet, Karasu had trouble deciding whether it was just the figment of his imagination.)

Because what had you ever done to her except unwillingly be placed in the middle of their by-then non-existent relationship?

“At your service, ma’am,” Karasu responds, grinning at you when he says his next words. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep Mirin in check.”

You still for a moment hearing those words, then pout at him before you slowly retreat out of the car, pulling Sae with you. You’re not even sure why you can find it in yourself to be worried for someone like Mirin who tried to screw you over. Maybe it’s because Sae had told you about her parents, about how she just didn’t have anyone and leaned on Sae for support out of habit. Somehow, Karasu’s words manage to comfort you a little bit; at least you knew that there was still someone else looking out for her. Your empathy is there, but that doesn’t mean you want to forgive her or even think about it.

Karasu laughs at your subtle reaction, rolling down the window, “hey Sae, your wife’s kinda cute,” he teases, and you see why Karasu managed to calm Mirin down back at the hotel. Whatever he did, it was definitely effective. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he oozes sincerity despite his jokes, something you can’t really say for Oliver and Shidou.

Beside you, Sae uses his body to block your line of sight as he flips Karasu off. “My wife, go away,” he quips, and you can only watch as Karasu laughs it off while he drives away from your apartment.

The moment you’re back in the house, Sae sets your bag down slowly on the couch, and you pause right before you enter the bedroom. Everything somehow feels light yet awkward and it feels like you’ve been through so many emotions in the span of one night and now it’s already 2am and you’re tired but it’s not like you can sleep right away with all these thoughts in your head.

You feel Sae’s chest press up against your back, his arms wrapping around your chest. Now that you know he’s never actually even cheated on you, or even thought about it, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off your chest.

“What’s on your mind?” There’s a strain in his voice, and you can tell he’s gotten a cold just from tonight alone.

You sigh. “I don’t know if I can handle all of this…” you mutter honestly. Everything has just been too much. It was manageable back when you thought your marriage was the only thing in ruins, but to learn now that your parents are wanted fugitives and the fact that they’d leave you and your sister to clean things up and bear the brunt of being damned just for being their kids is a lot to take in for one night.

“You know I’m here for you whatever you need, right?” Sae asks, holding you tighter, pressing a kiss on your temple.

You want to be soft for him so bad, you want to melt into his touch and let him comfort you and hug him to sleep, but can you really afford it right now? Can you afford letting him feel that everything is fine after keeping everything from you and driving you to the point of thinking about divorce?

It’s not normal. It shouldn’t be.

And while you appreciate what he’s done for you in secret, that’s exactly what you’re not so sure about—secrets. You’re husband and wife, and if there’s going to be any hope moving forward, you can’t have him try and bear the burden of knowing alone.

“If you ever keep something like that from me again, I’m not giving you another chance,” you tell him, your voice quivering but he listens to you seriously all the same. It’s times like these where you appreciate that he isn’t the type to be joking around all the time. He’s serious when you need him to be, and that means a lot to you already.

“I promise you, I’ll talk to you, whatever it is,” he says, slowly turning you around, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tipping your head up to face him. “I meant what I said, by the way. I love you, Y/N, and I’m sorry I was being stupid. And I’ll try to make up for it, however long it takes me, okay?”

This is a first for you that it makes you emotional. For your entire life, you feel like it’s been you who’s been the one trying to take care of other people’s feelings and needs so much that you step all over your own. For your entire life, no one has cared about you so much so that they’d actively try and take care of you. Everyone lets you take care of everything yourself without thinking that it’d be nice to offer you help even if you looked like you didn’t need it.

For your whole life, you’d wondered how it would feel like being loved by someone who wants to take care of you just because. And here he is, making you feel like you’re loveable, like you’re worthy of being treated like a princess, like you don’t have to mask who you are to get his love because no matter what you do, his love overpowers it.

“So don’t leave me, okay?” Sae’s lashes flutter against your own, his teeth clenched because he’s thinking of how close he was to losing you and he would’ve never forgiven himself if you did.

And maybe it’s the way you realised he’s loved you in his own way all this while, or maybe it’s the way he keeps you so close to him now, so afraid of losing you, that you feel it’s okay to let yourself go, to let yourself be you, to wear your heart on your sleeve because no matter what it is, Sae will take care of it.

“I love you, Sae,” you whisper, both of you with your eyes closed, breaths mixed together, Sae subconsciously pushing you into the bedroom because he never realised that such simple words from you would ignite such an urgency inside him.

That night, for the first time, you experience Sae’s love for you. The way it’s so subtle, so gentle, a complete opposite of what you initially thought he was. The way he holds you in the palm of his hands and takes care of you completely; a dream you thought you’d never live to see come true. So many people go their whole lives being stuck in a relationship that they find lacking and yet here you are, getting everything you need and want and you don’t even have to ask for it because Sae knows you well enough to give it to you.

In the dim light of the moon that makes it into the slivers of your blinds, Sae marks you as his own, and even though neither of you have been through it, it feels right. It feels so right even when you’re lying in bed together after everything, legs tangled together underneath the blanket, bare bodies enveloping one another as the exhaustion finally kicks in.

Sae watches you as you fall asleep, finger lightly brushing your arms and lulling you to sleep. There’s a lot he still doesn’t understand about relationships, and the only form of experience he had seemingly meaning nothing in the face of his actual love, yet he’s strangely motivated now. There’s no way he’s going to let anything, much less himself, fuck this up.

No, he’s going to do his best to keep you happy, to take care of you and make sure you don’t have to be the one who acts strong all the time just to appease everyone else. He’s going to make you smile everyday because you deserve it, and he’ll do anything to make sure that happens.

Anything.

“She had nothing to do with it.”

Of course, Sae’s parents didn’t take too well to the news. One night isn’t enough for it to blow over, because the moment they got the news, they were here to get to the bottom of it. As expected, you received nothing but accusatory remarks, and unlike Mirin’s, at least Sae’s parents had the right to be upset.

Still, Sae’s standing up to them, a protective arm keeping you behind him, making sure they don’t throw daggers at you.

They’re angry, but they’re not as bad as your own parents. At the very least, his father isn’t throwing a tantrum and breaking silverware. Doesn’t even look close to it. He only crosses his arms in disbelief, the vein on his forehead threatening to pop.

“Are you sure you want to defend her?” He asks his son, scoffing. “You know how bad of a reputation we have now thanks to her parents?”

“He’s right, honey, if you want to divorce her now we’d fully support you,” his mother joins in, and she’s every bit as submissive as your own mother, you bet. Anything for their money bag.

“I’m not divorcing my wife ever, so if that’s all you came to say, you can leave.”

Suddenly you feel guilt for being the one to bring up divorce in the first place.

The argument goes on for a while, and you keep quiet all through it. Only because Sae asked you to. It’s fair; he wants to handle his parents, so you’ll trust him to it. If there’s a need, you’d interject anyway.

Like right now, when you realise that maybe your silence is making things even worse, like your admittance of guilt.

“I’m sorry for what my parents did,” you speak up, bowing ninety degrees because as much as you hate their actions, you want to help Sae as much as you can. He must hate talking to his parents as much as you do, so the least you can do is alleviate that. “I really didn’t know what they were up to, and I didn’t expect it to affect your family’s reputation as well. I can’t even begin to repay you for what my parents did, but I can offer you everything I have now, and I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“Then easy, leave—”

“Except leave your son,” you affirm, straightening up and looking them in the eyes. “We love each other, so we’re going to make this work.” Beside you, a smile tugs on the corners of Sae’s lips at your declaration. Are you really the same person who used to be so meek in front of yours and his parents once upon a time? “As for my parents, I’ll let the authorities do their work and capture them. As far as I’m concerned, they’re dead to me.”

Perhaps it’s because of your strong words, but the Itoshis leave not ten minutes later.

You flop down on the couch, an exhausting morning followed by an exhausting night is entirely too much for you. Sae shamelessly lays himself down on top of you, head resting on your chest. He must still be tired, judging from the bags under his eyes.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. “You were pretty hot, though, sticking it to them.”

You stifle a laugh, though your smile speaks for itself. “Guess we should’ve expected that. They got conned out of their money too, after all. Wonder when this is all gonna blow over,” you sigh to yourself, just wishing that the problem would disappear.

Over the course of the next few days, you received texts from colleagues asking what happened, and Sumi in particular loves to cuss your parents out over text and then apologise for being insensitive afterwards. It carries a sense of normalcy that you needed, though.

It takes a few months before everything completely settles down for you, until your sister has come to the realisation that your parents abandoned you and deserve whatever hell they’re going to get. It doesn’t stop her from saying yes to her boyfriend when he proposes, and you and Sae watch on lovingly as she leaps into his arms and kisses him silly.

“You know what, a family like this doesn’t suck so much either,” you ponder out loud. All you really need is just your sister, and Sae—both of them have never failed you after all.

Sae puts his arm around you, holding you close like he always does. You notice that; that when Sae loves you he’ll crave your proximity everytime. Sumi likes to joke that he’s too clingy, but you like him just like that.

Seeing the scene unfold in front of them, your eyes twinkling as you watch the movie-like proposal in front of you, Sae feels just a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you,” he mutters, though he already knows you don’t mind. To you, what matters the most is that the both of you are still together, still happy.

And that’s exactly what you say with your hands wrapped around his neck, kissing him with those perfect lips of yours, pulling him in so naturally without having to do anything.

“You give me more than enough, Itoshi Sae,” you whisper, oblivious to Sae falling even more and more in love with you.

“Have I told you I love you?”

You chuckle, nodding and Sae’s completely taken by your grin.

“We love you too.”

“We?”

And when you break it to him, in a hushed whisper because you don’t want to ruin the proposal, Sae gives you the most lovestruck expression you’ve ever seen.

THREE YEARS LATER

A lot has changed.

Turns out, you’re not as cold-hearted as you thought. Mirin is still on the list of your least-liked humans, for sure, but it’s not like you care enough to harbour any resentment anymore. She’s not worth vexing over, and much less so after that one time years ago when she came over to personally apologise. You haven’t officially forgiven her, but you don’t particularly wish the worst upon her. You’re not even sure where she is or what she’s doing because Sae doesn’t care for keeping in touch with her, but you’re both indifferent about her now.

Reo had apparently met someone special last year when he attended a charity gala. You’ve never met her in person, but from the pictures Reo takes and shares on his socials—all to show her off, no doubt—she looks absolutely breathtaking. He was there with you throughout the whole fiasco too, lending his family’s support to weather you through the tough times. You’re happy he finally found that special someone. From his texts, sometimes it seems rocky, but he’s “pretty sure she’s the one,” and you’re honestly happy for him.

Your parents have been caught—apparently, a year out they’d tried to seek shelter with one of their friends only for them to tip the police off. It wasn’t even like you, but you visited your mother in jail, just out of curiosity, and the only thing she had begged you was to help them get a good lawyer. Not that you didn’t expect it, or that it would make any difference if you did agree. Frankly, you just went there to say “no”, to let her feel the same helplessness she and your father cast upon you. You’ve never visited her since.

Sae’s been busy ever since his career shift two years ago. (His parents weren’t all too happy about it, but ever since their screw up with yours, they weren’t as forceful anymore.) Now, he’s one of the assistant coaches for Japan’s national team, and you’ve never been happier for him. It gives him more flexibility too, getting to spend more time with you back at home, but also getting to invite you with him whenever they travel.

You guess it’s lucky that you managed to land a spot helping the team out with marketing, so more often than not you get to see your husband play some soccer. Like right now, when you’re bent over the railing, watching him coach the two main midfielders and looking completely different than when he’s at home.

For one, it’s definitely the first time you get to see him all intense. With you, he’s pretty much the opposite, going all soft whenever he gets home, and you wonder how you got so lucky to be building a home with someone who loves you so much he can spot you a mile away and give you the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen.

Sae calls for a break, jogging towards your direction looking handsome as hell but you’re not going to tell him that or else he’ll tease you about it.

“How are my girls?”

Oh, and you’ve apparently managed to give him a daughter that looks so much like him. She sits on the railing, your arms wrapped around her to support her as she jumps into her father’s arms.

“She’s been bugging me all day to come and visit you,” you remark.

Yeah, she’s a daddy’s girl—and you smile watching Sae kiss her all over, her laughter ringing in the air, her happiness meaning the world to you.

Neither you nor Sae have ever experienced what a good family is like, nor have either of you seen what good parenting is like. But your daughter seems happy everyday, with parents who support her whenever she wants to try something different, so you both take it one step at a time, learning as you go. If it ever gets too difficult for you, Sae steps in, and he’s never let you down.

“Remember what we’re gonna surprise mommy with later?” Sae asks your daughter, and you’re still trying to get used to him calling you that.

You arch a brow, “I get a surprise?”

Your daughter giggles, nodding as she melts in her father’s arms. “Of course, mommy! You’ll love it!”

Her smile is infectious, a grin forming on your face just by looking at her. You shift your gaze to your husband. “What is it?”

All he does is look you in the eyes, smirking. “You’ll see.”

That night, you entertain your daughter by letting her blindfold you and lead you, well, wherever the surprise is. It smells nice, wherever you are because you’d been blindfolded even during the car ride, and you can tell it’s grand because of the way your heels are clacking against the marble and the way Sae had dressed tonight.

By your guess, you’re probably at one of the nice hotels here for one of their signature buffet dinners. Your daughter’s never been, so that could be why she’s making a huge deal out of this. Like father, like daughter, so cute.

But when your daughter urgently whispers for you to take the blindfold off, you find yourself at the entrance of huge double doors, two hotel staff smiling and opening up to unveil a huge ballroom filled with people, most of them you recognise because they’re your friends.

It’s already bringing tears to your eyes when you realise what this must be.

They’re all cheering as they see you, your daughter skipping happily into the room, choosing to run straight to your purple-haired best friend at one of the tables who you thought was still busy abroad. Beside him, his beautiful girlfriend mouths a ‘hello’, but you’re still too surprised to respond.

Everyone’s clapping and cheering and all of a sudden you feel the familiar presence of your husband right beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses you on the cheek.

“Surprised?”

Honestly? Yes. Very. And you’re not one to be easily surprised at all.

“I wanted to give you the celebration you deserved,” he tells you, waiting for you to take it all in.

It’s a far cry from the pathetic reception you got from people you barely knew during your actual wedding reception. Sae had been nothing but cold to you back then too, so it felt more like a prison than anything.

Now? You recognise so many faces in the crowd that you can’t help but smile and wave back. You’d always wondered what this would be like, and your husband somehow manages to give it to you without having you ask for it and you’re in love. Because he seems ice cold and awkward and rough around the edges but his love for you has always, always been warm. His love has always felt like coming home and having a safe space and this might be the unconditional love you’d been praying for your whole life.

You almost gave up on it. But you know now Sae never will. And neither will you. You have a family now, a proper one built by two people who never had a stable environment, by two people who never came close to being provided one themselves.

Sae’s your pillar of support, and you begin to see now that you’re his.

Now you know it’s true what they say; you don’t have to beg for someone’s love if they truly cared about you, because Sae has always gone the extra mile for you every single day. You don’t have to act like someone you’re not just to please them so they don’t leave—because no matter how many disagreements you have, Sae is always there to listen to your point of view. You don’t have to beg someone to treat you right if they really love you, because Sae’s been actively choosing you ever since the day you got married, and whether it’s intentional or not, you think you’re the luckiest person in the world.

And now you can’t be happier; you have a wonderful daughter who has two parents who absolutely love her. You have a husband who takes care of you in every single way, loving you in every essence of the word. You have friends like Reo who would burn the world if it was ever unkind to you and dance with you atop their pile of bodies. You have everything you could ever want and you couldn’t have seen it without Sae by your side.

The do-over of your wedding reception is perfect. So, so perfect, and it’s almost hard to believe it’s the product of Sae’s ideas. He doesn’t even particularly like celebrations like this but he did this for you, for both of you, and being able to make your daughter be a part of it is like icing on the four-tiered cake he had ordered.

“I’ll love you forever, Y/N,” he whispers suddenly into your ear as you guys are making rounds at the tables.

You accept the kiss from him, flashes going off as you smile against his lips. “Yeah? What if it falls apart?” you ask, teasing him, though you never thought he’d answer you seriously.

“Then I’ll rebuild it,” he tells you, your lips hovering just above each other and his beautiful teal eyes looking into yours, a small smile on his face. “But with you, I’m pretty sure that would never happen.”

And you’ve always been pessimistic. You’ve always chosen to believe the worst because it alleviates the pain you’d feel when things don’t go as planned. But somehow, you believe in Sae with your whole heart. You’d trust him with your whole life. So you want to give him what he’s given you—everything. (He thinks you already have.)

“I’ll love you forever, Itoshi Sae.”

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[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

you’re going to be a dad, Fred…

pair: Fred Weasley x reader

requested by @cherryblossom-92

(requested via messages & too long to put here, sorry)

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From the moment Y/N entered Hogwarts, everyone knew she was special. Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of their generation, might have had the answers first, but Y/N was always right there beside her—an inseparable pair of brains and magic. The two best friends never competed; they only pushed each other to be better, a quiet understanding between them.

But for Y/N, Hogwarts wasn’t just about learning spells or making potions. It was where she met Cedric Diggory.

It started simply—he was a Hufflepuff like her, kind, humble, and devastatingly handsome. They had crossed paths in their first year, but it wasn’t until her second that their friendship turned into something more. Cedric had a smile that could light up the dimmest room, and Y/N couldn’t help but fall for him.

And he fell for her too.

The Triwizard Tournament changed everything. When Cedric’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire, Y/N felt both pride and fear. She cheered for him in every task, always by his side to celebrate victories and ease his worries. She remembered the day of the Third Task as if it were yesterday. The maze loomed like a monster, its darkness swallowing him whole as he walked toward it.

He had kissed her forehead and whispered, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

But he didn’t.

“Kill the spare.”

The words echoed in Y/N’s head for months, years even. When Harry brought Cedric’s body back, lifeless and cold, something inside her broke.

Y/N didn’t smile anymore. She didn’t laugh. Not even Hermione could help. Y/N shut herself off from the magical world completely, refusing to see the beauty in anything. She didn’t want to learn spells or attend classes. Hogwarts had become the place where Cedric died.

Hermione, ever the loyal friend, never left her side. “You have to keep going,” she would whisper, but Y/N couldn’t find the strength.

It was Umbridge’s reign of terror that brought back the first flicker of life. Y/N sat stiffly in her chair during a dreadful exam when the ceiling exploded with color.

Boom! Crack! Sizzle!

Fireworks flew in every direction—dragons of light, rockets that spelled out “Goodbye, Umbridge!” The entire room erupted into laughter, and even Hermione, ever the rule-follower, couldn’t help but smile.

Fred and George Weasley had turned chaos into art.

Y/N found herself laughing softly, but it wasn’t until Fred’s eyes landed on her that something changed. He’d been running past with a mischievous grin when he noticed her quiet expression. He stopped in his tracks, as if seeing something no one else could.

He didn’t bother her that day. Fred, despite his loud and chaotic ways, somehow understood.

Days turned into weeks, and Fred found ways to pull her out of her shell. Notes appeared under her plate at breakfast:

“Why did the broomstick fail its test? It swept through the answers!”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. Fred noticed.

Letters passed between Gryffindor Tower and the Hufflepuff dorms late at night, written in swirly, magical ink. Fred never pushed her, never demanded she “get better.” He just... showed up.

And slowly, Y/N started to feel like herself again.

One night, Fred led her to the Quidditch pitch. The sky was dark, stars hidden behind clouds. She shivered slightly.

“What are we doing out here, Fred?”

Fred grinned, holding up his wand. “You’ll see.”

With a flick, the sky exploded in gold and red. Fireworks spelled out:

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

Her heart swelled. The world felt warm for the first time in forever. She turned to Fred, tears in her eyes but a smile on her face.

“Yes.”

Fred and Y/N were inseparable. The halls of Hogwarts buzzed with their pranks—Fred’s arm always slung over her shoulder, his lips pressing quick kisses to her temple, even in front of teachers.

Y/N found joy again in their cuddles, their whispered jokes, and Fred’s constant, undeniable love.

At the Weasley house, laughter and warmth filled the room. But when Mr. Weasley raised his glass, Y/N’s hands started to tremble.

“I want from this war justice and no pain and no loss in any way…”

Cedric.

The glass slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor.

Everyone stared, but Y/N couldn’t stay. She rushed outside, her breathing ragged, panic clawing at her chest.

A hand touched her waist. Fred.

He didn’t say anything, just pulled her close. She pressed her face into his chest, sobbing softly.

“I lost Cedric in a game,” she choked out. “In a game.”

Fred’s voice was quiet. “Do you still love him?”

Y/N looked up, tears streaming. “I did love him. But I love you now, Fred. I don’t want to—”

Fred held her tightly. “Don’t say it… ‘cause it’s not gonna happen.” He kissed her forehead. “We have so much to do together, you know? We’re gonna get married and have kids…”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “I want that with you, Fred.”

He cupped her face. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“Promise me that if something happens to me, you’ll be happy. You’ll find someone else, get married, and have kids.”

“No. I can’t promise you that.”

“Promise me, darling.”

Through tears, she whispered, “I promise.”

Y/N and Fred kissed one last time before the battle. “Be safe,” she whispered. “You too.”

The castle shook with spells and screams. Hours passed like a blur until Y/N found Harry.

“Harry, have you seen Fred?”

Harry turned, his eyes wet.

“Y/N—”

And that’s when she saw him. Fred, lying still.

Her heart shattered.

The Great Hall was filled with the cries of survivors and the silence of the fallen. Y/N’s legs felt like lead as she moved through the sea of bodies, desperate to reach him.

She found Fred lying next to Percy, his lifeless face frozen in an expression of laughter. Her knees hit the cold stone floor with a thud as everything inside her collapsed.

“No… no, no, no,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Shaking hands reached out to touch him, to find warmth, but he was already cold.

“Fred?” her voice broke into a sob. “Please, wake up. Please.”

But he didn’t.

Her tears fell onto his chest as she crumbled against him. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t leave me… I need you.” Her hand trembled as she pressed it to her stomach, her breath hitching as the words escaped her in a broken whisper.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, unheard by anyone else. She clutched Fred’s jacket, pressing her forehead to his. “You’re going to be a dad, Fred… You promised me we’d have so much time.”

Hermione found her there hours later, still holding him. The war had ended, but for Y/N, the world felt emptier than ever.

The days turned into weeks, and the world moved on, but Y/N couldn’t. Fred had been her light, her warmth, and now there was nothing but cold silence.

When Molly found out about the baby, she held Y/N close, tears streaming down her face. “You’ll always have a home here, dear. Always.”

Y/N moved into the Burrow, surrounded by the family Fred loved so much. George was the only one who seemed to understand the depth of her grief—after all, he’d lost his other half.

When the baby came months later, the pain of losing Fred hit Y/N all over again. Holding the small, wiggling bundle in her arms, she whispered through her tears, “You look just like your dad.”

She named her Y/D/N, a mix of her and Fred’s names, a constant reminder of the love they’d shared.

George became a constant presence in their lives, offering his support without ever overstepping. He was there for late-night feedings, for baby giggles, and for moments when Y/N couldn’t bear to face the world alone.

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/N said one night as George rocked Y/D/N to sleep.

He looked up at her, his expression soft but firm. “I want to. Fred would want me to.”

It was early one morning at the Burrow. The sun had barely risen, and Y/N dragged herself out of bed to make tea. She didn’t expect anyone to be awake, but George was already there, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee.

“Morning,” he said, his voice quiet as he sipped from his cup.

Y/N blinked at him, her mind foggy. He looked so much like Fred in that moment—wearing one of his old jumpers, his hair sticking up in every direction. Before she knew what she was doing, she walked up to him and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or slow; it was desperate, fueled by exhaustion and heartbreak. For a split second, George froze, but then his hands came up to hold her waist, kissing her back.

And then—

“Y/N?”

Y/N pulled back instantly, her breath hitching when she turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway. Reality hit her like a ton of bricks.

“George…” Her voice trembled as tears filled her eyes. “I— I thought—”

But she couldn’t even finish the sentence. Her chest tightened as the weight of what she’d done sank in.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, covering her mouth as she turned and bolted from the room.

Outside, the crisp morning air hit Y/N like a slap to the face. She leaned against the wall of the Burrow, sobs racking her body. “What is wrong with me?” she cried out, shaking her head.

“Y/N.”

She flinched at the sound of George’s voice, his footsteps quiet as he approached. He didn’t say anything at first, just gently pulled her into his arms.

“Why did I do that?” she sobbed into his chest. “You’re not him, George. You’re not Fred.”

“I know,” he said softly, running a hand over her hair. “I know I’m not.”

Y/N pulled back, her face tear-streaked and exhausted. “It’s like… I can’t let him go. And now I’ve dragged you into it.”

George hesitated, looking at her with so much understanding it nearly broke her. “You haven’t dragged me into anything, Y/N. I’ve been here because I want to be here. You’re not alone.”

She looked down, her voice shaking. “It’s not fair to you. Or to him.”

George sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Fred’s gone, Y/N. But I’m still here. And so is Y/D/N. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you both.”

Y/N’s tears fell harder. “How can you even look at me after that?”

“Because I get it,” George said quietly. “I miss him every day, too. But we’re still here, Y/N. We’ve got to keep going. For Fred. For Y/D/N.”

He paused, looking her in the eyes. “Let me be there for you. Let me be there for her.”

Y/N couldn’t find the words, so she simply leaned into his hug, letting him hold her as she cried.

Twelve years had passed since Fred’s death, and Y/D/N was on her way to Hogwarts for the first time. Y/N and George accompanied her to Platform 9¾, making sure she had everything she needed.

“Ready to go?” George asked, placing her trunk on the trolley.

Y/D/N beamed up at him. “Ready!”

Y/N knelt to adjust her daughter’s scarf, smiling warmly. “You’ll do great, sweetheart. Write to us as soon as you get sorted, okay?”

Y/D/N nodded enthusiastically, giving George a quick hug before running off toward the train. She paused at the door, turning back to wave. “Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad!”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the word "Dad," but she waved back, her smile faltering slightly. George, noticing her hesitation, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Y/N. She’s going to love Hogwarts.”

Y/D/N had been bubbling with excitement during the ride to Hogwarts, chatting with new friends about the sorting ceremony. As the train neared its destination, one of her compartment mates—a confident boy with a mischievous grin—leaned over and said, “So, are you a Weasley too? You’ve got the hair for it.”

Y/D/N blinked, confused. “A Weasley? What do you mean?”

“You know, one of George Weasley’s kids. He’s your dad, right?”

“Well, yeah—of course he is,” she replied, though something about the boy’s smirk unsettled her.

“Strange,” he said, leaning back casually. “I thought Fred Weasley was your dad. At least, that’s what my brother said.”

The words hit her like a hex. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’re lying.”

“Ask your mum,” the boy said with a shrug.

The rest of the journey felt like a blur. By the time Y/D/N stepped off the train, her head was spinning. She couldn’t stop replaying the boy’s words as she waited in line to be sorted.

When her turn came, the Sorting Hat barely touched her head before it said, “Ah, a complicated one. I sense confusion, anger, and pain… SLYTHERIN!”

That night, Y/D/N sat alone in the Slytherin common room, staring at a piece of parchment. Her hand trembled as she wrote:

Mum, is it true? Was my dad’s name Fred? Why didn’t you tell me? Why would you lie to me? I don’t even know who I am anymore.

She sent the letter with shaking hands, tears streaming down her face.

Y/N’s heart broke when she received the letter. She knew this moment would come but had always hoped for more time. George found her sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the letter with tears in her eyes.

“She knows,” Y/N whispered.

George took the letter from her hands, reading it quickly. “You have to tell her the truth.”

“I was trying to protect her,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “How do I explain that her real father isn’t here? How do I make her understand why we didn’t tell her sooner?”

“You’ll find the words,” George said gently.

My dearest Y/D/N, I owe you the truth, and I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. George isn’t your father—your dad’s name was Fred. He was George’s twin brother. Fred was kind, brave, and full of life, but he died in the war before you were born. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to feel the pain of his loss, especially when you were too young to understand. George has always loved you like his own, and I hope you know that he and I both only wanted what was best for you. You are so much like Fred—kind, clever, and strong. He would have been so proud of you. I hope you can forgive us for waiting so long to tell you. Love always, Mum

When Y/D/N read the letter, her heart shattered. She spent days feeling angry, betrayed, and confused. She didn’t respond to Y/N, and though her Slytherin housemates tried to include her, she felt completely out of place.

“Are you okay?” one girl asked during dinner, but Y/D/N only shook her head, tears threatening to spill.

Back at the common room, she stared out the window, clutching the letter. She didn’t know how to reconcile the love she felt for George with the pain of realizing he wasn’t her real father.

When Y/D/N came home for Christmas, the tension was palpable. She barely spoke during dinner, and George noticed the way she avoided looking at him. Afterward, he found her sitting outside, staring at the snow-covered garden. “Can I sit with you?” he asked gently.

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

George sighed. “Y/D/N, I know this has been hard for you. And I know you probably feel like we lied to you, but I need you to know something. I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment you were born, and nothing will ever change that.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it was what Fred would’ve wanted,” George admitted. “He would’ve wanted you to grow up surrounded by love, not grief.”

Y/D/N finally looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. “Do you think he’d be proud of me?”

George smiled, pulling her into a hug. “Of course he would. And I am too.”

Y/D/N clung to him, her anger melting away as she realized how much love surrounded her.

With time, Y/D/N began to embrace her identity, learning that her house didn’t define her and that she could honor Fred’s memory while still being herself. Y/N and George continued to support her, helping her grow into a kind and confident young woman.

And though Y/D/N still missed the father she never got to know, she found comfort in knowing that Fred’s love lived on through her and the family he had left behind.