#decided not to let wait months and months again!!!!! ○_○ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

comicnerd557 · 3 days ago

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The one where Jake tells the squad how he met his wife

Jake Seresin x reader

A/N: Sooooo, this was supposed to be a blurb and it's almost 6k words. It's fine. Enjoy! There may be a part two if there's interest, just let me know!

Warnings: Jake is accidentally an asshole, plus sized!reader, reader is a female, cursing, sexual innuendos and dirty thoughts but no smut, even then, MDNI!!!

as always, a thanks to my bestie @dalamjisung who introduced me to Top Gun Maverick in the first place. Love you boo!!

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Okay but like, imagine Hangman, cocky, badass, can’t-wipe-the-smirk-off-his-face, Hangman, married

Most would probably picture a woman equally as badass as he is, tough as nails, spits literal fire and can’t go an hour without jumping her hubby’s bones

That’s certainly what the rest of the Dagger Squad thought when Hangman let it slip he was married

“Someone married you, Seresin?” Payback was both shocked and horrified. Shocked someone accepted his proposal, horrified they hadn’t changed their fucking mind yet

It was no secret Hangman was a lot to be around, and while, yes, he had relaxed a bit with age, he was still a goddamn handful. He had stopped flirting with every skirt he saw about three years back, but….the squad just assumed he got tired of the playboy life and decided to go bachelor

“You don’t wear a ring.” Phoenix was skeptical, as usual, sipping her beer with narrowed, observant eyes. Without wasting a beat, Jake reached under the collar of his shirt, grabbed his dog tags, and held them up

Sure enough, in between the tags sat a simple silver band. “I wanted gold, but, the Mrs said she would sooner rip her finger off than wear gold. Clashes with her skin tone apparently.” He snorted

More shocked silence. It was all true. Jake Seresin was married. “How long?” Bob questioned. He hid his shock much better than the others, something Jake was thankful for

Hangman paused to think. “It’ll be 11 months in two weeks.” Jaws dropped. Jake’s ego took a hit. He laughed, a bit awkward. “I’m a bit offended, y'all are so surprised. I took a month off for the honeymoon…You guys didn’t think anything of it?”

“Honestly, thought you were on a mission, I swear to go-Wait, hang on, why the hell didn’t we get invites?!” Coyote’s protest was met with rallied cries of confusion. The entire squad was upset. “It was just me, her, and our folks. Private, small, quiet.”

Hangman? Quiet? Private? The man was like a walking disco ball. He fucking loved attention. Whenever the thought of Jake getting married crossed through heads, it was always assumed it would be a huge spectacle with fireworks and maybe a dance crew

The squad was silent for a full minute, processing the information they had just learned. It was a quiet night at the Hard Deck too, meaning there wasn’t even the chatter of strangers to fill the void. “Oh my god, someone say something! It’s not that big of a deal! I’m fucking 34, none of you expected me to be married? Really?!” Jake threw his hands up, laughing

Finally, shockingly, Rooster spoke. “We’re happy for you, really bro, just…What’s she like? How’d you guys meet? Name, age, job, we wanna know.”

How did they meet? A smile spread across Jake’s face before he could stop it. It wasn’t Jake Seresin’s usual cocky, condescending smirk. It was a genuine smile, sappy, sweet…and weirdly soft. None of them had ever seen anything like it

“Alright little ones,” Jake teased, sitting down across from the squad. Part of him worshiped the attention. “Gather around and Papa Jake will spill the beans.” Dramatically clearing his throat, Hangman started his story. “It all started three years ago…”

Jake had been absolutely fucking beat. The San Francisco sun was nothing to laugh about, and Maverick had, once again, kicked their ass in training. Hangman only added fuel to the fire, running his mouth, and as a consequence, he had to do double the amount of pushups the others did

“Fuckin’ ridiculous.” He grumbled, slamming the door of his truck shut with a huff, head falling forward onto the steering wheel dramatically. He had spent the entire day working his ass off, didn’t even have time to eat. Jake was fucking starving

Too lazy to cook, the pilot grabbed his phone, googled ‘food near me’, and clicked on the very first one, allowing the directions to guide him without even check where the hell he was going

Imagine his delight, then, when GPS led him to a quaint, soft looking bakery. The parking lot was empty, causing Jake to mumble a quiet thanks to the Big Guy upstairs before hopping out of his truck, making his way inside

The bell on the door jingled as he pushed it open, and the rush of ice cold air conditioning felt like the sweetest relief hitting him square in the face. He groaned aloud, content, tense muscles slowly relaxing the more the scent of baked goods invaded his nose

It wasn’t overly sweet, thank god, but just sweet enough to lure even the pickiest eater through those doors. Why this place wasn’t crowded, Jake didn’t know. Were the workers rude? Ugly? Maybe the food was unsafe to eat, leaving people glued to their toilets for hours on end

“Hi there!” A voice chirped from behind the counter, causing Jake to finally reopen his eyes after closing them in bliss. Like Cupid’s arrow had struck him, Hangman froze in place. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

Never before had Jake Seresin, Hangman himself, been rendered speechless by a woman. Until now. “....Are you okay sir?” The heat had been especially brutal today…Maybe this guy had heat stroke and was just wandering, confused?

Jake managed to put one foot in front of the other and make his way up to the register. Thank fucking god he didn’t trip. Now, it was time to flirt. “....Doughnut.” His brain had been left at the base, clearly, cause that was the only fucking word Jake managed to squeeze out

You smiled, barely biting back a giggle. “Did you want a doughnut or…?” Jake blinked, forcing himself to fucking think. “Your dress. It has doughnuts. It’s cute, very fitting. Are you the owner or just a really dedicated employee?” Yes. Yes! The AC had finally cooled his head enough to think straight

“The owner.” You answered, smile turning a bit shy, hands soothing down the front of your dress. “It’s actually one of many pastry themed dresses I own. Today we have a special on doughnuts, so I figured my doughnut dress would be a good way to advertise that.”

“I’ll take 'em all.” Excuse you? Huh? Jake’s brain was screaming at his mouth for moving too quick. It seemed you were just as shocked, eyes going wide like dinner plates, and fuck, Jake’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of your visible excitement. “Really?! You haven’t even tried them yet!” You had fussed over him in a way that had Jake making up his mind. He would buy every single fucking doughnut if it kept that smile on your face

He just nodded. “Yes ma’am. I’m actually a Navy Pilot, and my squad just got back from a highly classified, super dangerous mission, so, we’re celebrating.” He explained, taking the chance to brag about how super cool awesome brave he was. “Feeding soldiers is like feeding a damn zoo. It’ll take all these doughnuts and more to fill ‘em.” Again, your smile grew, now fully beaming

“Take a seat! Here, you can have this one on the house while you wait. I’ll get everything packed up and I can help you carry them out to your ca-Oh i’m gonna need to build more boxes.” Now a busy bee, Jake watched as you hurried around behind the counter, packing up every single doughnut you had in the store, including some fresh from the oven. By the time you finished the pile of boxes was almost as tall as you

His wallet would hate him for a while, but the crew would be eternally grateful, especially if the rest of the doughnuts were as good as the one you had given him to munch on while he waited. “I knew this area was filled with pilots, but I hadn’t had any visit yet. Thank you for your service!” You giggled, grinning ear to ear. “I added a military discount, and combined with our sale, you saved a lot of money! Your total is…” The number was in the triple digits. Jake still didn’t hesitate as he tapped his card. After the beep, he reached into his wallet, pulled out a stack of cash, and dumped it into the tip jar

“Oh, oh no!” You immediately protested. “I can’t accept that! You’re really saving me, if the doughnuts don’t sell, they get tossed and it’s a really big waste. Honestly, I can’t take th-” You reached into the jar to take the cash out. Jake reached out, grabbing your wrist, and fuck, the instant zap was felt by the both of you

He smiled, sweet, calm. “Keep it. These are the best damn doughnuts I’ve had in my life. I owe it to ya.” Hangman managed to wink before grabbing half the pile of boxes, promising to come back for the second half after he loaded them up

The next day, when he showed up to work, he made the new trainees carry the doughnuts into the break room. Why the hell should he do the work? He bought the damn things after all

“Is it someone’s birthday or something? Someone die?” Rooster asked, pink sprinkles falling from his frosting covered mustache. “Whatever it is, I hope it happens again. These fucking rock.” Fanboy groaned, mouth full. Jake just smirked. “You’re welcome. I was feeling generous, figured I would remind all of you why you love me so much.” He mused. Everyone stopped chewing

“...They’re poisoned. Everyone go throw up.” Phoenix, despite her words, finished the doughnut she had in hand

Jake just rolled his eyes. “I think you mean “Thank you Jake, you’re so handsome and kind and funny and smart, oh my god any girl would be lucky to have you!” Right?” Maverick saved her from having to respond, calling for the team to gather up for a meeting

That afternoon, Jake returned to the little bake shop on the corner, prepared to ask for Doughnut Girl’s number…Except she wasn’t there. Someone else was behind the counter. Jake ended up just buying a single cookie before leaving, head hung low

The routine continued for a week straight. It got to the point where Jake asked about the owner. The teenage employee behind the counter just grinned. “Oh she works morning shift most of the time! Usually gets off by three.” Fuck. Jake almost never got off before six. Another cookie bought, another disappointed look as he walked out

For a few days, Hangman tried to move on. He really did. After picking up three skirts in three days, he still had you on his mind. The girls moaning obnoxiously under him looked nothing like you. They were tiny, practically toothpicks. You filled out your dress, body soft and curved. They had a thigh gap. Yours jiggled with every step in a way that hypnotized Jake. He gave up after the third night

He woke up extra early the next morning and set out, determined to complete his mission. He was gonna get your number, take you out, and fuck, maybe even marry you one day, who knew? He was feeling a little crazy

So, at 5:45 the next morning, Jake pulled into the parking lot of your bakery, turned off the engine of his truck, fixed his hair, and walked inside. “Welcome to The Cozy Oven!” Your voice was like music to his ears. No more bored teens or sweet but confused old ladies. Finally, he was reunited with his baker

“Oh it’s you! Mira said you came looking for me.” Was he delusional or were you teasing him? There was a glint in your eyes Jake couldn’t quite place, and the way you leaned over the counter seemed to prove his theory. You were so teasing him. Oh it was on. “You got me hooked on your sweets then disappeared on me.” He mused, smirking, palms flat against the counter. “The sweets have still been here.” You point out, giggling

Again. Fucking music his ears. “Tastes a bit sweeter when I’m looking at you.” Jake’s voice dipped low, leaning in a little closer. In an instant, your cheeks went hot, the tips of your ears darker in color from all the blood rushing to your face at once. “O-oh, you think so?” No longer could you meet Jake’s eyes, though, the smile didn’t leave your face. “Don’t tell me you’re a shy thing. Guys must come in every hour to beg for your number.”

At first, you laughed, like Jake had just told a super funny joke. When you noticed he wasn’t laughing, you stopped. “Oh, you were serious?” You weren’t being sarcastic or rude. Just genuinely confused. “I can count the times I’ve been hit on by strangers on one hand. I mean, my best friend calls me her wife, but, that’s just her thing. She’s married.”

Now, it was Jake’s turn to be confused. How the hell were you not married with three kids and another on the way? He wouldn’t say it aloud (yet) but fuck, you were like, ideal wife material. He had only recently started thinking about settling down and getting married and you checked off his checklist fucking perfectly

And god those hips were down right sinful, and fucking meant for holding and having babies. Not that Jake’s head was filled with thoughts of bending you over the counter and stuffing you full of cream instead of you stuffing the doughnuts. Definitely not

If his standard issue pants were a little tighter than usual, that’s not his fault

“Are they blind, or am I the first single man to walk into this bakery?” This man was single? Fucking. How. He had made your entire month buying every doughnut in the bakery and had done so with a grin and a sweet, somehow not creepy, wink. The bakery was doing…okay. You had just opened your doors a few months ago, and while your head was still above water, you were getting tired of treading really quickly

The pilot had the biggest order you had received so far, and holy hell that tip was enough to even buy that new super fancy cat food for your cat. Sniffles had been almost as grateful as you had. Almost. She never said as much, obviously

“Well, single men walk into this bakery often, so…You must be blind.” You giggled again. Jake laughed, tossing his head back. “I assure you, sweets, my eyes are just fine. They wouldn’t let me fly if they weren’t. I’d be stuck on the ground, or worse, the backseat.” He shuttered with over exaggerated disgust, playing it up to hear you laugh again

It worked. He beamed. “At the risk of making myself look like a complete jackass…” Jake leaned in, dramatically serious. “Can I have your number? I’d like to prove to you exactly why those men are blind as bats.” Jake let his eyes wander, slow, drinking in your frame like he was sipping the finest whiskey in the world. Just as slow, your smile dropped

As sweet as he seemed, the way he stared…Men usually wanted one thing. “I don’t even know your name.” You responded, voice quieter than he had heard it before. Jake, being Jake, chalked it up to your close proximity, so distracted by those pretty lips moving he failed to hear the cautious, almost anxious tone in your voice. “Lieutenant Jake Seresin. At your service.” There it was. His secret weapon. Every woman he ever met (Phoenix didn’t count she’s weird) had practically tossed their panties at him whenever he dropped that line

Women went nuts for men in uniform. One mention of his rank and they would fall to their knees. “I fly for Top Gun. Have you heard of it?” Everyone had. Jake was really pulling out the big guns now, but if he went to work without your number, he may just fly into the mountains for fun. Much to his shock, and dismay, you shook your head. Gone was that cute, sunny smile from before. Now, you just seemed…withdrawn

“I thank you again for your service, Lieutenant, but I’m afraid I don’t give out my personal number to customers.” A fatal shot. You went for the kill by reaching for the business card on the counter. “But if you ever need catering, please don’t hesitate to call the shop and put in your order. Would you like to buy something? I’m afraid I don’t have time to chat.”

A lie. You had all the time in the world. Mornings were always a bit slow. But with Jake’s intentions clear, you weren’t interested in entertaining his chubby chaser fantasies anymore. What other reason would he have for asking you out? Most girls around this area were tiny gym babes the size of twigs. While many preferred that, there were always men out there who thought you’d be a nice easy lay due to your size. They didn’t have to put in effort, clearly you would be desperate enough

Though you didn’t get hit on often, a blind person could see the hunger in Jake’s eyes as he stared at your body. In his eyes, he was admiring fine art. In yours, he was thinking of how easy it would be to hit and quit. Besides, he had another thing working against him. Military men never really wanted a relationship. They wanted a fuck, a stress reliever

Admittedly, it was a little upsetting. Jake had seemed so kind, but, the more you thought about it, the more you realized how his pretty face and sweet words had tricked you into assuming his entire personality after one fucking meeting. Pathetic. Maybe you did need to get laid. How long had it been since you pulled that little box out from under your bed again?

Jake’s grin dropped. He hadn’t been turned down in….well, ever. Honestly. Maybe when he was freshly twenty and still learning how to flirt? What had he done wrong? “Oh yeah, of course.” He stood up straight, smile now much less flirty and much more polite. “Uh, I’ll just…Take one of those.” He pointed to a random pastry in the case, tapping his card before, once again, leaving a hefty tip in the jar

“Have a good one, miss.” Jake walked out of the bakery in a daze, a frown tugging at his lips. He knew you were different, he knew that the minute your hand grazed his and pure electricity filled the air, but not even a number? Really? He wasn’t upset with you, of course, just confused and disappointed in himself

Maybe it was delusional, maybe the lack of oxygen to his brain had gotten to him, but Jake had already been imagining the second, third, and fourth date before the first one had even taken place. He made it to work ten minutes early with an uneaten cookie in hand. He passed it to Coyote the moment he asked about it, claiming he wasn’t that hungry anymore

Everyone noticed Jake was a little quieter that day. He wasn’t as cocky or boisterous, keeping his comments to a minimum, not even complaining when Maverick had him with a tone within the first half hour of their dog fight, didn’t push back when Phoenix made fun of him

“Alright what the hell is wrong with you?” Bradley had been trying to rile Jake up all day. Jake hadn’t indulged the man once. They were in the shower room now, Maverick having ordered them all to hose off after they had spent nearly an hour running through a mud soaked obstacle course, part of a new training program meant to help agility just in case they were out of their planes and behind enemy lines

Payback shut his locker, towel wrapped around his waist. “You didn’t even take the bait when Bob tripped over his own feet. Bob. You love teasing Bob!” Jake just sighed, head leaned back against his locker, annoyance clear on his face. “What’d you strike out or something? Get shot down?” Rooster had, unknowingly, hit the nail on the head. He realized as much as soon as the look in Hangman’s eyes turned murderous

“Oh my god he did. Our Hangman is heartbroken. He’s grown up so much.” Bradley sniffled dramatically. “Remember when a rejection just meant he moved on to the next girl?”

“I don’t get rejected.” Jake huffed, slamming open his locker, grabbing his comb to fix his hair, not because it needed fixing, but because he couldn’t look at that stupid smug look on Rooster’s face anymore. “Bradley,” Javy, his best friend of over ten years, finally spoke up. “Leave him be. Clearly this girl isn’t just a girl. Wanna tell us about it bro?”

Not really, if he were being honest. Jake kept his mouth closed, weighing the pros and cons of telling the truth versus denying everything. On one hand, the guys on his squad lived for teasing each other, digging under the others skin with glee. On the other, there was no one on earth Jake trusted more than the men in the locker room with him. They had saved his ass time and time again, and he had done the same for them. Maybe, just maybe, they could offer some solid advice

“There’s this woman, she ain’t no girl, this is a full bodied, grown woman, and she’s nothing like the skirts I usually chase. But she’s in my fuckin’ head and I asked for her number this morning. She turned me down. Turned me down cold.” He huffed, tossing his comb back into his locker with a frown. “And I ain’t mad at her. It’s my own fault, I think I came across a bit…”

“Pervy?”

“Sex addicted?”

“Menacing?”

“Okay everyone but Bob can go fuck themselves.” Jake scowled. “But, yeah. I guess. I don’t know. I gave her the line that usually makes panties fly off and she just shut down.” Bradley snorted, rolling his eyes. “The Lieutenant line? Really? Look man, we all use our uniforms to get into beds, but if you want something more you’re gonna have to actually work for it. Flowers, chocolates, sweet talk about something other than her ass. That sort of shit.”

Jake had never felt so fucking old. He had to learn how to pitch woo now? Really? “She worth the effort?” Bob asked quietly. Jake paused before shrugging. “My heart gets funny around her. Yeah, she makes me hard in my fuckin’ cargo pants,” Payback groaned in disgust. “But it’s more than that.” Silence took over the room. Once again, Jake was left with his thoughts

“We’ll help.” Reuben nodded, determined. Jake let out a loud groan. “Oh my god, I cannot get help picking up a woman from you guys, you’re supposed to come to me for that.” His ego would never recover from this. Ever. “We come to you for help getting laid, you come to us for help getting a date. Seems fair to me.”

And so, Operation Get-Hangman-His-Date started. They looped Phoenix in almost immediately, rightly deciding her female perspective might just be useful. They spent the night at the Hard Deck coaching Hangman on how to be a true gentleman. Bob got the honor of spraying him with a spray bottle every time he so much as glanced away from a woman’s face after winning a game of pool

The next morning, Jake was ready. He had the day off from training, his only commitment was a beach day with the squad around two, but until then, he was free to charm his way into your heart. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, his hair styled to look like he had just rolled out of bed despite having worked on it for nearly half an hour

In his hand, there was a bouquet of flowers, small, just five or so. Natasha suggested they start simple. “She’s gonna think you’re a stalker otherwise.” She explained. “Or some majorly obsessed creep, which, you are, but, at least you’re not the murder and dump the body type.”

The bell jingled as he stepped inside. Today’s dress was pie themed, and in the display counter were a handful of different flavored pies. The flavor of the day was apple, apparently. You were in the middle of bringing out new product, making everything neat and perfect. When you locked eyes with Lieutenant Jake Seresin, your sweet, cheery smile turned awkward. Great. He was back

“Ma’am,” He greeted, the southern drawl more obvious in his words. “Women love a southern accent.” Javy had explained. “Use it.” So he did. Jake didn’t work to hide the Texas drawl. “I think I maybe came off a bit strong yesterday.” You snorted quietly, amused. A bit? The guy was practically making eye contact with your nipples

Still, you let him continue…Mainly because he was a good customer who could bring a whole lot of business if he ever decided to order catering. “I wanted to apologize.” Jake paused, trying to remember what he had been instructed to say last night. “You’re very, very attractive, and god knows I would love to take you back to my place and-”

He was losing you again. Jake stopped himself, clearing his throat with a bashful smile. “Anyway, that’s not why I asked for your number.” You looked at him skeptically, cautious. “You wouldn’t look at my eyes, just my body.” Though your words cut deep, mainly because of the truth behind them, your voice was soft like a cloud

No matter how nervous or upset you were, you spoke to Jake like he would cry if you yelled. He had never been approached so….softly before. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just, I ain’t ever been interested in a woman like you before and-” Immediately, your face dropped into a sharp scowl. No more soft. No more gentle. “A woman like me?”

Jake knew that tone. That was the tone of an angry woman. Alarm bells went off in his head. “T-that’s not how I meant to say it. I just meant you’re not my usual type.”

Fuck

Oh my god

Did he just say that?

You looked…irate. To say the very least

“Okay mr, I can tolerate you staring at my tits, I can tolerate you coming back in here sniffling with flowers in hand trying to make up for staring, but I won’t tolerate this. I get it, you’ve never been with a fat chick before, not used to putting in all this effort for a lay. You will not come into my bakery, my business, and tell me you’re acting like this because you don’t know how to handle a woman my size. I’m gonna respectfully ask you to leave.”

Somehow, in the span of just mere moments, Jake had fucked everything up. Now, as he sat on the beach, beer in hand, he did everything he could to ignore the scolding from Phoenix. He had told Javy what happened in private, but, of course, Payback had overheard everything, and within minutes, news had spread to the whole goddamn squad

“I cannot believe you, Hangman! You basically just admitted you’d never usually go for her! I mean, I knew you could say some dumb shit but you’re not a dumb guy, so why the hell did you act like a fucking Florida frat boy?”

Why did he? Jake didn’t know. The look of hurt that had flashed over your face before the anger set in had been haunting him since this morning

Jake stood, mumbled something about grabbing another beer, before taking a walk down the beach. He needed some time by himself, some time to think, to breathe without the squad shaming him for his fuck up. It was the third drink in that an idea hit him square in the face…Right as he walked into a sign advertising the 50th anniversary of the Hard Deck

Vaguely, he remembered Penny mentioning that she needed to find a good bakery to make a cake and enough cupcakes to feed an army. He stood, shaking the sand off, and ran top speed into the Hard Deck. “Penny! My favorite bartender!” He beamed, tossing an arm over her shoulders. “Hangman, my favorite headache. Why are you here? We aren’t technically open, you know.”

That never mattered. The Dagger Squad was always welcome, they knew that. Penny had an open door policy when it came to her team. “You still looking for a caterer?” He asked, smile wide and confident. Penny nodded. “Yeah, I’m having a hell of a time finding someone willing and able to make so much on my budget. I can’t afford to break the bank.” Hangman’s grin grew wider

“What if I told you, I know a place?”

It was almost 6 pm when you got the call. Eight dozen cupcakes, and a two tiered cake celebrating the anniversary of the most popular Navy bar in Cali. Their budget was low, but the woman on the phone was just too sweet to turn down, and this was the perfect chance to get the Cozy Oven’s name out there and known

A deal was made, the money was sent over, and two days later, you and your entire team were baking like mad men, scrambling around to get everything ready and fresh for the hungry customers at the Hard Deck. At the same time, the Dagger Squad was running around getting the bar ready. Maverick had asked them to help, and none of them even considered refusing

An hour before opening, the Cozy Oven delivery van pulled up in front of the hard deck. Jake, Javy and Bradley had all gone on a run for the last bit of party supplies they needed, leaving Bob, Reuben, Natasha and Mickey to finish setting up what they could. Penny had told you not to worry about bringing a team to carry all the sweets in. She had her own.

Within minutes, everything was carried in, and while you knew there were dozens of Navy bars around, part of you was still nervous Jake would show up. “I can’t thank you enough.” Penny had trapped you in a conversation, seemingly unaware of how eager you were to leave

“Honestly, when Jake recommended you, I wasn’t sure but then he went on ranting and raving about your food and-” You stopped her, confused. “Jake…Recommended my bakery?” You had honestly figured he wouldn’t ever bring up the bakery again after how harsh you had turned him down. Penny nodded. “Oh yeah, he loves your doughnuts, says he’s put on ten pounds since finding you. Does him some good, I think.”

You left a few minutes later, confused, and very, very conflicted. Had you misjudged the whole situation? Had you misjudged Jake entirely? Why the hell would he recommend you for catering after everything?

The rest of your night was spent cleaning the bakery top to bottom. You couldn’t sleep when your head was so full of thoughts and when you couldn’t sleep, you needed to do something productive, or you would loose your fucking mind

By opening the next morning, you still hadn’t slept. Your hands were raw from scrubbing, back sore from mopping, but you still opened the bakery with a smile on your face, no matter how painted on that smile was

For a fourth time, Jake Seresin walked into the Cozy Oven. This time, he had no flowers, no styled hair and no practiced words. He approached the counter calmly. “Can I have a dozen doughnuts please?” He requested, perfectly polite

This could have been a perfectly normal customer interaction, an average experience…But there was one question burning the tip of your tongue. “Why did you tell Penny to cater from my bakery?” Half way through loading the doughnuts, you blurted it out

Jake paused, blinking rapidly before furrowing his brows. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re an amazing baker. I was the idiot. My friend needed a good baker and I knew one. Just cause I got rejected don’t mean I’m gonna go around bad mouthing the best bakery in California.”

The look on your face softened. Fuck. Stupid Jake and his stupid effect on your stupid heart. “And I am really, really sorry for what I said the other day. I uh…My friends tried to coach me on how to romance a woman instead of seduce. Guess I’m not a very good student.”

“You wanted to romance me?” The thought seemed shocking to you. Jake nodded. “I wasn’t lying when I told you, you’re damn beautiful. I’m just an idiot who never even thought about how to ask a lady on a date. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, when I told you I’d never gone after a woman like you before. I haven’t, and yet, you’re the only damn woman that’s been stuck in my mind this long.”

Jake hadn’t come here to bear his soul, but here he was, unable to stop talking, rambling like some nervous teenager all over again. He was stopped by a soft hand over his mouth. “Jake,” Slowly, your smile grew. “Ask me for my number again.”

His eyes went wide. Your hand moved away, allowing him to speak again. Heart racing like a horse in the Kentucky Derby, Jake did as asked. “Can I have your number, sweets?”

You reached behind the counter, grabbed that same business card that had shut him down so harshly before, and scribbled something on the back. “Ask me on a date.” You instructed him again. Hangman smirked. “You’re certainly a bossy thing, aren’t you?” He teased lightly

“Would you like to go on a real, romantic date with me, Sweetheart?” Your heart melted. Fuck. That accent really did something. Combined with those soft green eyes and there was no way you could deny him again. “Give me an hour notice before you pick me up, and I’ll be there.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, smiling. He had finished his story, and now, the Dagger’s knew exactly how he had met his wife. Three beats of silence passed before chaos exploded.

“THE GIRL YOU NEEDED ADVICE ON IS YOUR WIFE?!”

“I DIDN’T THINK ANYTHING CAME FROM THAT MAN YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING.”

“How the fuck did he get married before Bob? Bob is prime husband material.”

Jake just smirked, finishing his drink. “Sorry boys, Phoenix, but I gotta get home. The Mrs gets real grumpy if she falls asleep alone, and I’m too good of a husband to make my wife unhappy.”

#Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Top Gun Maverick #Hangman #Jake Seresin #top gun maverick fic #Top Gun Maverick X reader

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orellazalonia · 2 days ago

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His World

Summary: Bucky gradually lets you into his hidden world, starting with guarded trust, then slowly introducing you to the quiet power behind his empire. (Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x Sweetheart!reader)

Word Count: 1.9k+

Main Masterlist | His Sweetheart Masterlist

The silence stretched between you for what felt like forever.

You could feel his eyes on you. Waiting, bracing, like your next breath might decide whether his entire world stayed standing or cracked in two.

You took a slow step back, away from his outstretched hand.

“I love you, James,” You said, voice steady. “But I can’t love you like this.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I can’t sit home at night wondering if the blood on your shirt belongs to you or someone else. I can’t pretend the world you’re in doesn’t exist. I’m not asking you to change for me, but if I’m going to be with you… it can’t be in the dark.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and you saw something flicker behind his eyes. Not anger. Not resistance.

Respect.

He gave a quiet nod, like he understood the cost.

“What do you need?” He asked, voice hoarse.

You hesitated. Then gave him your answer.

“I need time,” You said. “I need to feel safe. I need to be able to walk to work without wondering if someone’s watching me because I matter to you.”

“You do matter to me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m still here.”

You stepped closer, just enough to brush your fingertips against his sleeve.

“But I need to trust that I’m not just something you protect. I need to know I’m something you’ll let in. All the way. No more lies. No more ‘it’s nothing.’ If I’m going to love you, I need to love all of you.”

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he nodded again, firmer this time.

“I’ll make it happen.”

The next day, the SUV was still outside your building but this time, the driver tipped his head politely when you left.

When you got to work, you noticed the same man from before with a dark coat and quiet eyes, standing across the street with a cup of coffee from your cafe in hand. He wasn’t watching the street anymore.

He was watching you.

You didn’t ask questions. But that night, Bucky texted:

“You’ll have eyes on you, always. They won’t interfere unless they have to. You’re safe. That’s not negotiable.”

Your reply was short:

“Okay. But I’m not glass, James.” “No,” He wrote back. “You’re fire. I’m just trying not to burn down what you love.”

Days passed.

You didn’t see him. But you felt his presence. The small changes, the careful signs.

Your doorbell buzzed less. The man across the street switched every six hours like clockwork. A quiet envelope appeared in your mailbox with no note, just the full payment for your next three months of rent.

Then, on a Thursday night, there was a knock.

You opened the door. And it was him.

His coat was clean. His hands unbandaged. His eyes were tired, but calm. He held nothing but a small paper bag and a softer look than you’d ever seen on his face.

“I brought you peach cobbler,” He said. “From that place uptown. I remembered you said your grandma used to make it.”

You stared at him for a second. Then stepped aside, letting him in.

He didn’t stay the night.

You both knew this wasn’t a return to what was. It was a rebuilding.

But when he left, he paused in the doorway, thumb brushing your knuckles gently.

“I’m working on it,” He said. “All of it. I want you in my world, not just on the edges.”

You nodded, eyes soft.

“I’m working on it too.”

And true to his word, he did start letting you into more of his life. Small things, of course.

He didn’t bring you to meetings, not yet. But he started answering your questions. Not brushing them off. Not changing the subject. Just… telling you the truth.

You’d be curled on the couch, sipping tea, and casually ask, “What did you do today?”

And instead of “errands,” He’d say, “I went to check in on one of our suppliers. The docks have been tense lately. I had to remind someone not to get greedy.”

You didn’t ask what that reminder looked like. But the fact that he told you at all meant everything.

Another night, he asked, “You want to see something?”

You tilted your head, curious. “Is it illegal?”

He smirked. “Not technically.”

So, you followed him out to a wide, quiet warehouse past the edge of the river. It looked empty from the outside, but when he opened the door, warm yellow light spilled out and the sound of laughter echoed through the dark.

Inside were people. His people. Sitting at metal tables with takeout containers, playing cards, sharpening knives with lazy hands and easy jokes. A dog barked once, tail wagging like it lived there full time.

And when they saw you, the room didn’t go tense.

They just nodded. Some even smiled.

Because they already knew who you were. The reason Bucky hadn’t cracked a skull in three days. The one he talked about when he thought no one was listening. The girl with whipped cream in her hair and sunlight in her voice.

You looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“This is where you go when you disappear?”

“Sometimes.”

“It's… less scary than I imagined.”

He smiled, genuinely.

“I don’t bring people here.”

“I figured.”

He let you wander a little. Watch the armory wall, the crates of supplies, or the map pinned with red strings and initials. And then he tugged you gently toward the back, where a small, surprisingly clean office waited.

You stepped in, expecting danger.

Instead, you found a couch, a bookshelf, a blanket folded neatly on the armrest and more.

“Is this yours?”

“Yeah.”

“You live here?”

“More like rest stop when I can’t get to you.”

You sat slowly on the couch, brushing your fingers over the soft fabric.

“James?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to keep seeing more, slowly, but I need you to promise me something.”

He nodded, stepping closer. “Anything.”

“Don’t show me only what you want me to see. Show me what’s real even if it’s ugly. I want to love you with both eyes open.”

He looked at you for a long moment. And then he did something rare. He knelt in front of you, hands resting lightly on your knees.

“I’ve been in this life a long time, sweetheart,” He said. “And I’ve never loved anything as much as I love you. So when you’re ready, I’ll show you everything. Piece by piece, no more hiding.”

You reached down, brushing his hair from his face.

“And I’ll try not to flinch.”

That night, you didn’t sleep at your apartment.

You fell asleep on that warehouse couch, curled under his coat, while he sat nearby with a quiet laptop and a loaded gun tucked just beneath the desk.

You never saw the gun.

He never told you who tried to threaten his hold on the west side that night. But you woke up to hot coffee and a gentle hand on your cheek.

And in that moment, the world didn’t feel so divided.

He didn’t ask you for another trip until the end of the week.

You were curled on his couch again, half-dozing under his jacket with your fingers absently tracing the edge of his hand where it rested on your knee. The room was quiet, lit by the dim gold of the streetlight outside. Neither of you had spoken in minutes.

That’s when he said, quietly:

“You wanna see where I really live?”

You blinked, eyes half-lidded. “This is where you live.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “No, sweetheart. This is where I visit.”

You straightened. “You mean… the real place? The one you don’t talk about?”

He nodded once, his thumb brushing against your wrist. “I want you to see it if you’re ready.”

And you agreed.

You didn’t know what to expect. A fortress? A bunker? Something cold, hollow, and full of ghosts?

But when the car pulled up the next night, and Bucky stepped out first to open your door himself, you saw it for what it really was:

A mansion.

Old, elegant, and quiet. Set back from the street behind iron gates and many trees. It looked like it had been there forever, like the city grew around it, not the other way around. Light spilled from the tall windows in amber squares.

The moment you stepped inside the mansion. It was quiet and warm, old and elegant. You felt like you’d crossed into a part of Bucky no one else had ever touched. He didn’t just live here.

This was where he existed.

At the top of the grand staircase stood a man you recognized immediately. Not because of photos or rumors, but because of the way Bucky had mentioned him.

Never “Steve Rogers.” Just: “My brother.”

He descended the stairs with easy grace; broad-shouldered, dressed in a crisp dark sweater and sleeves rolled to the elbows, like he’d come straight from a war room or a bookstore.

He smiled before you even spoke. “You must be the one who makes him smile like an idiot.”

You blinked, surprised. “I–what?”

Steve grinned and shook your hand warmly, eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m Steve. I’ve heard a lot about you. And Bucky is very bad at hiding when someone means something to him.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “I hope it was mostly good things?”

“Only good,” Steve said sincerely. “The rest, I figured out myself. You’re the first person he’s brought into this house. That means something.”

Beside you, Bucky gave a soft grunt, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m absolutely helping,” Steve teased.

Dinner was light and warm like a family meal you didn’t know you were missing.

Steve didn’t interrogate. He asked. Softly, kindly, and interested.

“He tells me you make the best muffins in Brooklyn. That true?” “You look at him different than most people do. You see him. That’s rare.” “You ever bake something and eat the whole thing before anyone else sees it? Bucky once ate an entire cherry pie meant for Sam’s birthday.”

That made you laugh as Bucky groaned behind his wine glass.

“I told you that in confidence, punk.”

“Yeah? You also said her laugh was your favorite sound, so you’re welcome.”

You weren’t expecting that.

The ease, the teasing, the way Steve made room at the table like it was always meant for you.

At one point, when Bucky stepped away to take a quiet call, Steve refilled your glass and said gently:

“I’ve known him my whole life. I’ve seen him break bones without blinking. Burn bridges. Walk away from people who thought they knew him. But I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

You swallowed.

“I’m still learning who he is.”

Steve smiled, kind and patient. “So are all of us. Just don’t stop.”

Later that night, when you and Bucky walked through the mansion halls, your hand brushing his, you whispered, “He’s not what I expected.”

Bucky smirked. “Steve?”

You nodded. “He’s… warm.”

“He always has been,” Bucky said quietly. “That’s why people follow him. He leads with his heart. And if he welcomed you like that… it means he sees what I do.”

You turned toward him.

“And what’s that?”

He smiled, small but real.

“Hope.”

#his sweetheart #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky #mafia au #bucky barnes #marvel fic #marvel x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes

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emmynemm · 1 day ago

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Everybody Here Wants You ♡

Natalie Scatorccio x fem!reader

Summary: You're working the most mind-numbing shift of your life at the movie theatre, until your favourite bleach blonde makes a surprise appearance.

Word count: 1,366 words

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Working at a movie theatre in small-town Wiskayok wasn’t all bad; you got to see movies for free from the projector room, and you saved money on overpriced movie theatre popcorn and drinks. However, the cons outweighed the pros. Especially tonight. A Friday night that you’re only working, because Grace magically got sick the night of the party at her pretentious jock boyfriend’s house. To make matters worse, the only coworker working with you is a dude stoned so far out of his mind, you doubt he even remembers his name right now. But the worst part? Being stuck with guarding the ticket booth in case a customer decides to catch a screening of ‘Men in Black’ halfway through the movie’s runtime, even if you’ve seen the movie billions of times by now, at least sitting in the projection room meant keeping your brain occupied somehow, all being sat at the concession stand entailed was staring at the same wall for hours.

Truly, if it weren’t for the free movie screenings, you would’ve quit months ago. But money is money, so you stay despite the mind-numbingly boring shifts. Maybe if you stare at the same red curtain lining the wall long enough, you can even pretend you’re in Twin Peaks. Of course, your bitch fit can’t last forever, and it ends abruptly at the sound of none other than your favourite bleach blonde walking right up to the register you’ve been stood at for what feels like centuries.

“You’re stuck with ‘Men in Black’ again? What is this, the 20th screening now?” She grins, absolutely overjoyed at your misery. Still, she could easily be at that party with her fellow Yellowjackets, and instead, she’s here, at a bleak movie theatre, showing a movie she’s seen more times than necessary, just because you are, too. “No, more like the 27th, my shift’s going so slow, it feels like I’m in a time loop.” You whine, clearly ready to go home, “That bad?” Her voice is just a bit softer when she responds, despite her inherent need to tease you every time you’re at work. She pauses before adding, “There’s literally no chance someone’s coming in here this late, and I highly doubt your manager cares enough to check where you were the whole shift, you know that, right?” And without waiting for a response, she’s already got you away from the register, dragging you towards the projection room you’ve snuck her into too many times to count.

Immediately, she hops up onto the first countertop in sight, looking around the projection room, “You know that guy working the ticket booth is like… totally high, right?” She grins at the thought of your coworker, her eyes constantly looking back and forth from your eyes to your lips. “When is he not? He’s been like that every time I’ve covered for Grace. I’m on my own here.” You sink into a swivel chair placed against the wall of the cramped room as Natalie reaches for something in her bag, “Right, I forgot to give this back, thanks for letting me borrow it.” It’s none other than your ‘The Lost Boys’ tape, returned without a single scratch on the clamshell case, as if Natalie treasured it the whole time it was at her house. You can’t help but tease her; you know she would do the same to you, given the chance. “So, you came all this way just to return my VHS? And here I thought it was out of pure longing to see the best movie theatre employee in town…” She lets out a huff of a laugh despite herself, “Your competition is an absentee manager, a dude who’s clearly high at work, and a bitchy cheerleader that hands her shifts off to you more than she actually shows up to work. That might be the lowest bar you could’ve come up with.” Maybe it wasn’t the best metaphor, sure, but it got a smile out of her, and that meant more than any metaphor could.

“I still don’t see you calling anyone else your favourite cinema worker.” You can’t help it, it is true, after all. “Don’t get cocky now,” She smiles back at you, before responding to your question, “and no, actually, I’m here to save you from the lamest shift ever, and drive you home once it’s done… and maybe stay the night. Just for tonight.” There was no need for her to elaborate; she didn’t even need to ask. You were one of the few people who really knew about her homelife, and you two were far too close for you to deny her the sense of normalcy your room provided every time her place got too suffocating. “You’re totally gonna have to sit through ‘Dead Poets Society’ with me again, just so you know.” There’s an audible groan coming from Natalie before you can even meet her gaze, “You always get all sad after that one guy dies, and then I’m stuck comforting you for the rest of the night.” She has a point, so after a bit of bickering, you end up sitting on the same countertop next to her, settling for another rewatch of ‘Scream’.

“How much longer until you finally get to clock out?”

“You sound like the whiny kid on a road trip.”

“Just answer,” Natalie kicks lightly at your foot with her own, her eyes on yours, a soft smile on her face, as you look at the tiny desk clock on the counter,

“Like… 30 minutes, start closing up in 15.”

“15 minutes is good.” Natalie doesn’t beat around the bush, pulling you in for one kiss, then another, and a third, until you’re kissing her back. It’s not heated; rather, it’s soft, the kind you can only exchange after longing for a moment of privacy for a long time. And between you working extra shifts, or the occasional soccer practice that kept Natalie occupied, you really hadn’t had a moment of peace like this in weeks. Both of you were eager; the way your hand was tangled in her hair, and how hers was cupping your cheek, wasn’t exactly hiding it. Both of you get lost in the heat of the moment, undoubtedly trying to cherish every second you can get, only parting every once in a while for some air, before diving right back in. That is, until the two of you jump apart, practically ending up on different sides of the room at the sound of a knock on the door, from none other than your coworker. “Hey, can I go home, or am I the one locking up tonight?” His voice is muffled through the door, but you look at the clock, and sure enough, you’re already 5 minutes late to start locking up. “I’ve got it!” You reassure through the door, eyes locked on Natalie’s as you listen for the sound of his footsteps getting further, before finally bursting into a fit of shared laughter ‘cause of how close you were to getting caught.

“So… we’re gonna get home and continue this shit, right?” She offers, trying not to burst into another fit of laughter,

“‘Scream’ and making out sounds like a pretty odd combination,”

“Don’t be a wuss,”

“Bite me,” It’s supposed to sound mean, though the smile you share when she looks back at you says otherwise.

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“Are you serious?” You ask, exasperated, when you walk in on Natalie, already behind the concession stand, filling a large bucket of popcorn, filled so far up that it’s nearly overflowing. “What? It’s already old anyway.” The two of you stare at each other for a second before you respond with a short, amused huff:

“Freeloader.”

“Complain some more, asshole, I won’t share.”

You fake an offended look, as if it isn’t the biggest lie you’ve heard.

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a/n: holy yap if this is awful or a mischaracterization don't bully me this is insanely self indulgent and I didn’t really proof read <//3

#natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #yellowjackets x you #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #emmy writes!!💗

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the-lazyyy-artist · 2 days ago

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Roommates Wanted! fem!reader x i. sae unexpected visitor

summary: Sae gets confronted with the life he tried to escape... in the form of his younger brother.

tags and themes: roommates au, angst, comfort, sae-centric chapter, rin exists here, reader and sae-centric chapter, eldest sibling pains, very ooc but in a way that matches the au

author's note: oof, oof. now we're discovering a bit of Sae's life before he came into the apartment. I hope you love this as much as I did write it. I did sprinkle a little bit of eldest sibling core canon events here, and it still matches who he is in the animanga, just in a different font. as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!

Check out the Masterlist!!

@ysvxnielle @kai-zawa @literallyushiwaka @londonsworldddd @itz-phantomz @imcheshire @loverlixie @byzantiumhollow @bontensbabygirl @sugacor3 @saekisserfr @d4rlinxs @0sunnyside01 @magicsness @saeglazer

There were knocks on the door.

Shidou sighed, pausing his game as the sharp knocks rattled the door again. “Yeah, yeah! Calm the fuck down.” Shidou opened the door too quickly, failing to realize who was on the other side of it. “What?” He barked.

Pause.

Ain’t no fucking way.

“Sae Junior, huh?” he teased, recognizing the ocean blue eyes he’d seen every day for the past seven months. This kid looked like Sae, only softer around the edges. A little younger. A little more human.

“You’re Nii-chan’s roommate?” the younger Itoshi said, disbelief laced in his voice. He couldn’t believe that his brother would live with… with… this vermin. “You look disgusting.”

Shidou snickered, clearly amused by the boy’s words. “Oh, but Sae-chan doesn’t think I am. That’s why he stayed this long.” This made the younger Itoshi scoff. Before he could say something back, they were both disturbed by a pair of footsteps ascending from the stairs, and two voices filling the staircase. Shidou smirked, knowing who they belonged to.

You, from your morning shift. Shidou knows how happy you get when you come home around 4:00 PM. Aiku, now with shorter times at school because exam week was coming up. As you two slowly approach your unit, laughing, you pause at the sight of the boy standing in front of your door… and Shidou… You quickly knew who this was.

“Sae’s brother?” you asked, a little cautious. The younger Itoshi relaxed a little and nodded.

“Are you here to see him?” you asked again, and he nodded once more.

You quickly moved and guided the boy to the apartment. “Come inside for a moment. Your brother will be home soon.” As you and the younger Itoshi entered the apartment, you gave Shidou the Look, and Shidou gave you a look of disbelief. Behind him, Aiku chuckled, slinging an arm around the blonde. “She’s gonna roast you for leaving him outside,” Aiku teased, his voice low. Shidou groaned and shut the door with a grumble as they watched you hover around the boy, asking if he’d like something to drink. “Water? Tea? Coffee? Juice?”

The younger Itoshi sat on the couch and stared up at you as you waited for an answer. “Tea would be nice.”

You gave him a nod and walked towards the boys. “Come with me,” you told Shidou as you slipped off your heels, then grabbed his wrist, pulling him to the kitchen. “You let him stand out there?” You hissed as you prepared tea. Shidou frowned. “He was out there for like ten minutes. Chill.”

You laughed, bumping his arm. “Just messing with ya,” you cooed, staring up at him. He scoffed and pushed you away gently. “Whatever. Be thankful you’re a cutie.” He then walked away, but before he got too far from the kitchen, you told him to turn off the console and TV, to which he gave you a thumbs up.

You brought the tea to the younger Itoshi, who accepted it gracefully, then you settled on the couch’s armrest beside Aiku. He didn’t say much at first. Just quietly took in the apartment, eyes trailing over the shared shelf and the smallest details like the key hooks and that one potted plant you guys decided to take care of. All three of you watched in silence, unsure of what to say.

After what felt like 30 minutes, the front door opened and Sae walked in, jacket in hand, necktie a little loose, and eyes wide at the sight of the guest seated on the couch. “Sae,” you called, “your brother’s here to see you.”

Sae silently closed the door behind him and hung his keys on his designated key hook. “Nii-chan,” the younger Itoshi spoke.

“Rin.”

Ah, so that’s his name.

Sae looked at you, then Aiku, then Shidou, and said, “Give us some room.”

You and Aiku stood up but walked in different directions: he walked towards the front door, and you to your room. Aiku gently caught your arm. “Let’s hit the konbini downstairs, babe,” he said. Shidou had already disappeared into the hallway. He came back seconds later, tugging a clean shirt over his head. He also took your other arm, and the boys dragged you out. “Alright, alright! I’m walking! No need to drag me like a sack of rice,” you protested, which earned a laugh from Aiku. The three of you scramble to look for shoes to wear, and you casually take Shidou’s extra pair of slides. “I’m wearing this.”

As you slipped out the door, Sae could hear Shidou laughing at you, saying you looked ridiculous with his slides on. Oh, how he wished he could see it, too. But he had to deal with the reality he had tried to escape, and now, in the form of his brother.

“Rin, what are you doing here?” Sae asked, his voice calm and collected.

Rin set his teacup down and stood up from the couch. He slowly approached Sae, his turquoise eyes meeting his brother’s.

“Come home, Nii-chan.”

Sae sighed, the kind of exhale that came from a place deeper than exhaustion. “Rin, you know-”

“Yes, I know,” Rin cut in, his voice quiet. “But they miss you. Mom and Dad. They do...” A pause, then he spoke again, almost reluctant. “I miss you.”

“You know why I left.”

Rin was quiet again, his gaze faltered.

Sae dragged a hand down his face. “Did they send you here because they knew I’d cave if it’s you?”

Rin’s eyes widened, startled. “Nii-chan, no. I came on my own.”

Lie.

“If it’s about the company, we’ll figure it out. If it’s about the marriage, then I’ll do it, okay? Just…” Rin’s voice cracked for a second. “Just come home.”

Sae looked at him for a long time. The kind of look that said, “thank you” and “don’t ever do that to yourself again.” He didn’t say either.

Rin had always been like this. Willing to trade his own peace for Sae’s. Willing to carry the burdens that weren’t his to begin with. They grew up knowing exactly what was expected of them. Sae, the firstborn, meant to lead, to inherit, to endure. Rin, the second, meant to follow. But somehow, Sae had always felt like the one trailing behind.

He’d taken a quieter life far from boardrooms and family meetings, choosing manuscripts over contracts. Distance had been the only way to make that choice feel real.

But even now, with Rin standing in front of him, Sae could feel the pull. Not of obligation, but of guilt. As long as Rin looked at him like that, like he was still someone worth following, Sae could never fully let go.

And maybe distance is the only way he knows how to try.

In the end, Rin failed to convince him. “You can still visit whenever,” Sae offered as he walked him to the door. Rin nodded quietly. Then he left.

In the konbini, the trio sat in silence as they waited for a sign for them to come back up. You all already had snacks; plastic wrappers littered on one side of the table. When Sae finally messaged, the three of you made your way back upstairs.

Sae was in his room when you all arrived. He didn’t join you for dinner. You and Aiku saved him a plate in case he comes out to eat.

Eventually, he did come out. At 1:00 AM.

You came out of your room, still very much awake, and you saw him there on the dinner table. An empty plate was set aside on the far end of the table. He was hunched over the table, red pen in hand, eyes skimming pages he wasn’t really reading… His habit when something was weighing on him. “Sae,” you called out, your voice soft and careful. You stepped into the warm yellow spill of the dining light. You saw him perk up, and he glanced at you over his shoulder. “You’re still awake,” he said cooly.

“Well, I couldn’t sleep because I’m worried about you.”

You settled on the seat across from him, observing him once again like all the other sleepless nights you’d stay here with him. He sighed, lowered his red pen, and removed his reading glasses. “I’m sorry about Rin, Y/N,” he spoke, his voice evident of years-long exhaustion.

“No need to apologize about him. He’s your brother.”

“Yes, but…”

A pause, then another sigh.

“I suppose all of you know who I am,” he continued, voice even. Eyes were trained on the manuscript, though he’s not reading anymore. “The golden boy. The Itoshi legacy.”

You nod slowly but don’t interrupt, letting him speak like you're holding open a door he’s still unsure about walking through

“All my life, I’ve been put on a pedestal because my parents believed that they were so blessed to have me as their first son. I was raised in a strict household. I didn’t have any freedom because I had to grow up within the confines of my parents’ planned future.”

A pause, then a bitter exhale. “Meanwhile, Rin… he had all the freedom. He idolized me. Rin saw me and my life, and thought I was perfect. Thought I was lucky. I hated that he never saw how much I wanted to break free from that life. I don’t blame him. He was a kid. “They made me study Business. After graduating, I returned, this time to pursue a degree in Literature and Communications. It’s what I really wanted. They hated it, but I didn’t care anymore. They wanted me to take over the company at a young age, but I chose to work as an editor. They wanted me to marry someone in our social class, and… I guess that’s what snapped me.”

There was a long silence after he poured everything he’s been carrying, then his turquoise gaze met yours.

“That’s how I ended up here. And you, all of you, made me feel like this is much more of a family than what I had grown up with. I still love Rin, I told him to keep visiting if he wanted to, but here… You all saw me as Sae, and not the one being paraded as the next heir.”

Another pause, and then. “Thank you. For that.”

You sighed and reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for trusting me.” Sae squeezed back, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips.

You didn’t say anything else that night. Sometimes, silence is safer than words. But as you sat with him, hand in hand, you felt the distance between him and the world shrink a little.

Because at that table, under the warm yellow light and quiet understanding, Sae wasn’t an heir, or a runaway, or someone carrying the weight of expectation.

He was just Sae. And he was home.

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juulessturn · 1 day ago

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「 "off record" 」 chris sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . 「 9.2k words . 」

content : angst . fluff . smut if u read far enough . brief mentions of drinking . intentional lowercase .

a/n : " this is a lot longer than it was supposed to be and some of the paragraphs are deadass just awkward. reminder that i write over the course of a few days, weeks, or even months, i do all of my writing late at night, and sometimes high. it's absolutely a wild ride but i hope u enjoy regardless " ✴

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our group was in a pretty chaotic state, to say the least. there were a lot of us for starters, mostly content creators like tara, jake, johnnie, larray, quen, the triplets, along with a bunch of smaller creators, myself being one of them. everyone was joking around, a little tipsy, and the noise level was through the roof. it was technically an after-party, but i felt a bit less on edge since my boyfriend knew almost everyone there.

i was drinking a white claw, standing next to chris as he spoke to quen and his brothers, nodding along even though i wasn’t really following the conversation. the music was playing low in the background– some playlist that blended early 2010s pop with newer tiktok hits, and people were scattered around the room in little pockets, laughing, filming something, or just talking on the couch.

larray shouted something across the room that made half of us burst out laughing, and someone spilled a drink in the process. i glanced at the mess and then back at chris, who just shook his head and smiled like none of this was surprising.

tara came up to our sub-group, vlogging camera out, and clearly more drunk than most people there. the second i saw the red recording light, i stepped away from chris, casually, perfectly used to it. we’d dealt with dating rumors before– any girl around the triplets got them, but mine were different. mine were true.

chris just wasn’t ready to make it public yet.

so when tara pointed the camera at us, shouting something i didn’t acknowledge, i slipped on a smile, the kind that looked easy and unbothered. chris glanced at me for half a second. just enough to say he noticed, that we were still in sync.

it was strange, pretending not to love someone standing right next to you, but again, it wasn’t new. i was used to being in public with him and having to stand at a ‘safe distance.’

tara drifted off, camera still rolling, shouting something as she disappeared into the noise. the moment passed like they always did– quick, messy, easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention.

chris didn’t say anything right away. he just took a sip of his drink, eyes scanning the room like he was keeping track of the scene. i knew him well enough to recognize that look– half on guard, half somewhere else.

after a beat, he leaned in a little. “sorry,” he said quietly, not really looking at me.

“it’s fine,” i murmured.

“really, i am.” he reiterated, as quen pulled us back into the conversation. pulling our attention with her. whatever was between me and chris dissolved into the noise.

i laughed when i was supposed to, nodded along, let the conversation carry me. chris was still next to me, closer but not touching. i decided that i needed to get over myself and threw in a joke here and there, easing back into my own skin.

chris didn’t look at me, not directly, but every so often, i felt it. this flicker of attention, like he was checking to make sure i was okay without apologizing again. he knew me, and at this point, he knew i didn’t like being a secret.

quen was mid-story about a brand trip when she turned suddenly to me. “wait, weren’t you there for that?”

i blinked. “which trip?”

“mexico, where the hotel lost all our reservations.”

i let out a short laugh, the kind that still carried traces of exhaustion. “yeah. i was definitely there.”

quen gasped, eyes wide with secondhand horror.

“uh-huh” i nodded at her horror, smiling. “landed in cancún at like ten p.m, got to the front desk, and they were like, ‘you don’t exist.’” i shook my head. “i think someone cried.” i squinted.

“i know someone cried,” she said, grinning.

everyone around us laughed— nick, matt, jake, a woman who i didn’t catch the name of, and chris. i felt him glance at me again. subtle. like he was just checking. i didn’t look back.

quen started describing the rest of the trip, some dinner where the seafood was undercooked and one of the managers got way too drunk and fell into the hotel fountain. someone handed out shots mid-story, and we all clinked plastic cups without knowing exactly what we were toasting to.

someone turned the music up. not enough to make it a dance floor, but enough to blur the edges of every conversation. people started drifting toward the couch or the kitchen or toward whoevers camera was filming at that moment. another camera filming meant me and chris would have to keep our distance. it brought my mood down again.

i ended up in the kitchen not long after, trying to cool down and get water, letting the cold cup press into my hands as an excuse to stay still. the overhead light was buzzing slightly, and the hum of the party felt distant from here, even though it was only a few steps away.

chris found me like he always did. quietly, without announcement.

he leaned beside me against the counter, not saying anything for a moment. the silence between us didn’t feel heavy, exactly, just full.

“you handled that well,” he said eventually, voice low, just for me.

i didn’t look at him. “handled what?”

he hesitated. “tara. the camera. everything.”

i shrugged. “it’s not the first time.”

he exhaled softly, like that answer hurt more than he wanted it to.

he looked tired. not the party kind of tired– the quiet kind. the emotional kind.

“i hate that you have to,” he said, almost like a question, and his voice was honest in a way it rarely got to be in public.

i nodded slowly. “me too.” i chuckled.

someone laughed loudly in the other room– quen again, probably– and the sound bounced off the kitchen tile like a reminder that we weren’t alone, that we never really were.

“one day,” he said softly.

i didn’t say anything. not because i didn’t believe him, but because i wasn’t sure that my belief changed anything right now.

he looked like he wanted to say more, like he was turning something over in his head. i watched him for a moment.

but then someone called his name, their voice echoing down the hallway. chris looked toward the sound, then back at me. his mouth opened like he might stay. explain. say something real.

but he didn’t.

instead, he reached out, just barely brushing his hand against mine. the touch was quick, almost nothing, but it made something in me ache anyway.

“i’ll be right back,” he said.

i stayed in the kitchen longer than i needed to. the party buzzed behind me. music, shouting, bursts of laughter. someone was crying in the hallway– or maybe laughing. it was hard to tell.

people came in and out. looking for soda, a place to breathe, somewhere their phone could hear them.

i checked the doorway once, or twice, or more. but i knew chris wasn’t coming back. he didn’t go to many parties but when he did, he kept busy. people loved him.

eventually, i pushed off the counter and slipped back into the party like i hadn’t been waiting for anything, or anyone.

quen was dancing now, barefoot and holding her heels in one hand. tara was filming again, telling her camera someone’s relationship drama. someone had opened a new bag of chips and spilled half of it on the carpet.

it was all still happening, with or without me. i needed to suck it up.

i made my way to the edge of the couch where johnnie and matt were having a debate about something stupid. i smiled at them as i sat down and joined their conversation halfway through.

chris was across the room now, sitting on the arm of a chair with a drink in his hand, head tilted toward whoever he was talking to. he looked like he was listening. like he was fine. like none of this was difficult at all. the thought gave me a pit in my stomach.

the feeling only grew when a woman came up to him and sat on the arm of his chair, speaking to him like they were already mid-conversation. she laughed at something he said– or maybe nothing at all, and leaned into him, her hand brushing his arm like she didn’t even think about it.

i saw it happen from across the room. i saw the way chris shifted, just slightly. his shoulders tensed for half a second, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. he didn’t lean into her. but he didn’t move away either.

he didn’t stop it.

i looked down at my phone, even though my screen was black. tried to focus on the buzz of the room, on johnnie’s voice, on the couch cushion under my legs– anything but him.

he could’ve said something. even just stood up, made an excuse. but he stayed there, nodding along, drink still in hand like everything was fine.

matt asked me a question and i answered without thinking. my voice came out calm, maybe even bored. i was good at that now, looking unbothered while my stomach turned. obviously, matt knew about chris and i, and he glanced over to where i was looking and furrowed his brows. when i made eye contact with him he gave me a pity smile.

chris looked over, just once. it wasn’t long, but it was enough. he knew i’d seen it. he knew i was watching.

for a second, i was scared he’d let it go. just keep sitting there like nothing was wrong, but then he shifted.

he said something to the woman, soft and quick, and stood up before she could respond. his drink still in hand, eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. and this time, he didn’t look away.

he walked over like it was nothing, and when he sat down next to me he didn’t say anything. just rested his arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing my shoulder, like a quiet answer.

i didn’t look at him. but i leaned into the touch. just slightly.

just enough.

his hand found mine, slow and careful, like he was still testing the weight of it all. like he wasn’t sure how much i’d let him take.

i let our fingers link. didn’t look, didn’t squeeze. just let it happen.

when the song ended, quen stumbled toward us and flopped dramatically onto the couch, landing half on the cushion, half on my knee. i giggled.

“jesus,” she sighed, dropping her heels on the floor. “i’m done, y’all.”

i laughed, then i saw it. her eyes flicking down, just briefly, to where mine and chris’s hands were linked between us. subtle. fast. but not missed.

she didn’t say anything. just raised one eyebrow as she leaned her head back against the couch, letting it all settle in.

it felt good. it felt normal. until it didn’t. larray sat on the edge of the couch next to quen, and started filming a tiktok. i felt chris shift before anything else.

his fingers slipped out of mine like it was automatic. muscle memory. he reached for his drink instead, eyes flicking to the phone before casually taking a sip, suddenly preoccupied.

i didn’t move or flinch, i just pressed my lips together, slow and tight. like the pressure could stop something in me from spilling out.

we weren’t even really in frame. maybe the corner of my shoulder. maybe the side of his knee. it didn’t matter.

he let go anyway.

i stared straight ahead, face smooth, calm. it had been seconds, not even long enough for anyone else to notice, but the absence of his hand burned louder than the music.

i knew this version of him. the one who knew how to hold my hand like it meant something when no one was looking, but always dropped it the second he felt any attention on him. the version of him that would tell me he loved me a thousand times as long as he knew no one could hear.

he was the version of himself that didn’t owe me anything. not in front of other people. not when it could be traced back, screen-recorded, speculated on. he was warm when we were hidden, he loved me when we were alone, but he was always careful not to leave his fingerprints behind.

he could lean into me in a quiet room, kiss me and have me feel it with every bone in my body, and then walk five feet ahead of me in public like we’d never touched.

and i let him. every time. because i loved the version of him that existed after the cameras stopped rolling. because that version looked at me like i was his.

still, it didn’t hurt less. it just felt more familiar.

at this point, it was on me. i kept choosing the version of him that only existed behind closed doors, behind quiet walls. the one who whispered to stay a little longer when the party was over, who kissed the inside of my wrist like it was something sacred. the one who told me he wasn’t ready to tell people, but he’d already decided i was home.

i told myself that version was the real chris. the one that mattered. the careful distance in public didn’t mean anything. it was all temporary.

but nights like this –when his hand slipped from mine as soon as a phone came out, they chipped away at me. not all at once, but slowly, each time added up.

“you’re quiet,” he said, voice low enough that only i could hear. i swallowed the knot tightening in my chest and finally turned to him.

“yeah,” i said. he glanced at me, eyes flickering with something i couldn’t quite place. maybe guilt, maybe exhaustion.

i took a deep breath, the noise and chaos swirling around us suddenly felt too much. my voice came out quieter than i expected.

“can we talk outside?”

he blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then nodded slowly.

we stood, slipping through the crowd, the weight of the room fading behind us with every step. the air outside hit my skin. cool and sharp, like a reset.

“i’m tired of feeling like a secret.” i said bluntly when we stepped outside. my voice was steadier than i felt, i could feel my hands shaking. “we’ve been together for like– a year now?” i said it like a question. “but every time someone pulls out a phone or points a camera in our direction, you act like i’m invisible.”

he stayed quiet, but i kept going, like if i stopped, i’d never say it again.

my chest felt tight, breath catching somewhere behind the words. “you- you act like i’m someone you can just let go of without a second thought. and i’ve taken it and i’ve let it happen and i’ve done the same to you but i’m so fucking done with it. it hurts chris.” my voice cracked.

i crossed my arms. he opened his mouth, then closed it again. ran a hand over his jaw, thinking, and it only made the silence worse.

finally, he said, voice low, “i didn’t think it would hurt you like that in the beginning.”

“it didn’t hurt in the beginning.” i verified.

"i knew it wasn’t perfect, but i thought we had an understanding.” he didn’t acknowledge what i said.

“we did,” i said quietly. “i just don’t think it’s working anymore.”

his voice was quiet now, steadier than before. “baby, i’ve seen what happens. the hate. the comments. the way people pick apart everything. the last few girls people thought i was dating, none of them were even real relationships, they got dragged through hell.” he leaned into me as he spoke. “i’m talking full-on hate campaigns. death threats. people digging through their lives.”

“i know,” i said, and i did. i’d seen it happen too. girls whose names were barely linked to his became targets overnight. profiles flooded with snark and cruel edits. people made entire reddit threads dedicated to speculating if they were good enough. most of the time, the answer was no.

“it’s not just about me,” he said, his voice a little more urgent now. “it’s about you too. i don’t want you to go through that.”

“but i already am,” i said, and my voice came out smaller than i wanted. “the rumors alone have people hating me, and i don’t care if they continue to if it means we can be seen in public together.”

he looked at me for a long time after that. like he didn’t know what to say, like he was trying to piece together an answer that wouldn’t make it worse.

“i didn’t want you to feel like this,” he said finally, his voice barely above the wind. “i thought– i thought if we could just wait it out a little longer, until the timing felt right, until people calmed down..”

he trailed off. we both knew they never calmed down.

i sighed and wrapped my arms tighter around myself, the night air making me shiver in my short black dress. i didn’t respond right away.

chris noticed my shivering. he pulled his hoodie over his head without a word and handed it to me, holding it out like a peace offering. the only times he did that was when it was late at night and we were on the beach with no one there. it was too risky otherwise, so i hesitated.

i took it anyway, tugged it over my head, the sleeves still warm from him. it smelled like his cologne and something vaguely like laundry detergent, and i hated how comforting it was.

he gave me a moment. then, “can we.. go back in?”

i swallowed and glanced at the house behind us. the glowing windows, the echo of music, bursts of laughter spilling out now and then. i thought about how drained i felt, but also about how warm it had been in there. how easy it was to get swept up in the noise. how sometimes pretending everything was fine helped it feel that way, just for a little while.

i nodded. “okay.”

he didn’t smile exactly, but his whole posture softened. like tension he’d been carrying loosened the second i agreed.

“wait,” i paused. “do i look like i was crying?” i ask, dabbing my face with my hands.

“you look beautiful,” he said simply, and came closer.

i chuckled, and he leaned to kiss me. it was quick, but it felt right.

we slipped into the living room. i ended up sitting on the floor by the couch, my legs tucked under me, the hoodie sleeves hanging a bit past my hands. chris sank down next to me a beat later, and our knees touched, steady and casual.

someone passed a bowl of popcorn. larray shrieked about something quen said. music played from a speaker that someone had balanced dangerously on top of a stack of chairs. the room was messy and loud and strangely comforting.

chris leaned in every so often, saying something under his breath– jokes, quiet comments, a random memory. nothing deep, nothing heavy. just enough to remind me he was there. that we were okay. or trying to be.

i let my head fall lightly against his shoulder. just for a second. just to feel him there. he didn’t move. didn’t freeze. didn’t pull away. he just shifted slightly so it was easier to stay like that.

the couch behind us creaked as someone shifted, and larray shouted something about popcorn getting in his shoe. we both looked up, and just like that, the moment passed— swept back into the noise and movement of the night.

but even after i sat up, chris didn’t move away. his knee stayed against mine. his hand drifted just slightly over mine, not fully holding it, but close.

i turned to see nick standing a few feet away, a red solo cup in one hand and his brows raised, not in judgment, just surprise. the way he looked at us wasn’t loud or dramatic. more like he’d stumbled across something unexpected and wasn’t quite sure how to process it.

“hi,” i said, soft but steady.

“hi,” he greeted back. “you okay?”

i nodded. “yeah.”

he held my gaze for a second longer, like he was checking that i meant it. then he relaxed a bit and dropped into the space next to us on the floor, legs stretching out in front of him as he leaned back on his hands.

“this group,” nick muttered with a little shake of his head. “they’re all so loud tonight.”

“are you not part of that group?” chris asked, smiling.

“yeah, but i’m the best one,” nick said.

he glanced over at me again. “i’m glad you’re still here, you’re the only other normal person.” he said.

chris made a face. i giggled.

we didn’t make a big deal of it. no one around us even seemed to notice what had shifted between me and chris. but nick had. and for some reason, that made it feel more real.

i kept my gaze on the room, trying not to lean too hard into the moment, but i was shocked when chris started rubbing my thigh. it wasn’t sexual, wasn’t showy, just quiet and steady. familiar.

someone turned the lights down a little, not dramatically, just enough to make everything softer around the edges. larray was singing into a remote control. quen was now fully horizontal across the loveseat, legs dangling off one side, scrolling through her camera roll and narrating every photo she found. there was laughter, clinking plastic cups, the soft sound of a tiktok audio starting and stopping somewhere in the room.

and still, his hand stayed on my leg.

i finally turned, just slightly, and looked at him.

he met my eyes right away.

“what?” he asked softly.

i shrugged. “nothing.”

his thumb brushed slowly just above my knee. “you sure?”

“yeah,” i said, voice low. “just surprised.”

“by what?”

“this,” i said, nodding toward his hand.

he didn’t pull away. didn’t even hesitate. just looked at me with that steady, unreadable expression he got when he was letting something settle in his chest before saying it out loud.

then, quietly, he said, “i kinda wanna stop hiding.”

“seriously?”

“dead serious.”

i swallowed around something in my throat and gave the smallest smile. “okay.”

“okay,” he echoed, grinning.

for a few minutes, we stayed like that. just the sound of the room around us and the feeling of his hand on my leg. i felt almost feverish, like he was everywhere, like the whole world was narrowing down to the space we shared.

the rest of the hour slipped by in the way only party time does– fast, blurry around the edges, warm in a way that made it easy to forget anything hard had happened.

chris didn’t move his hand, but he didn’t push any further either. just kept it there, a steady weight on my leg, like a reminder. like he was still holding onto what he’d said.

we sat there for a while. i ended up talking to nick and johnnie about old vines we loved, chris chimed in every now and then, laughing when i pulled up a video and started quoting it word for word.

tara was lying on the floor with her feet up on the wall, talking to someone and laughing at everything. an old kesha song came on and the room lost its mind for a full three minutes.

i was surprised how normal it all felt. how easy it was to fall back into the noise. maybe it was the hoodie. or maybe it was just that chris hadn’t pulled away again. not once.

eventually, chris nudged me gently, his voice low near my ear. “you ready to go?”

i nodded. “yeah. i’m crashing.”

he stood up and offered me a hand, and i took it without thinking. his fingers curled around mine like they’d always been there, and to be fair, they kind of had, but it felt so odd to be publicly holding his hand.

“let’s find my brothers,” he said as we weaved through the soft chaos of the living room. the group had thinned out, some people curled up on furniture, others deep in late-night conversations or filming sleepy tiktoks.

we passed quen, still horizontal on the loveseat, talking to larray in half-coherent sentences. she raised a lazy hand when she saw us. “bye, bye..”

i smiled. “night, quen.”

we headed down the hall toward one of the back rooms. music was still playing, but quieter now. more background than anything. when we opened the door, we found nick sitting on the floor, deep in conversation with a guy i didn’t recognize, dark hair, hoodie sleeves pushed up. they were sitting close, their knees nearly touching.

chris raised an eyebrow. “you guys ready?.”

nick looked up, caught somewhere between flustered and annoyed. “now?”

“yes,” matt said, suddenly appearing behind us, already holding his keys like he’d been waiting.

nick rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “give me a sec.” he turned to the guy, said something soft that i couldn’t catch, they exchanged numbers, and hugged goodbye quickly before nick got to his feet.

as we walked back through the house, i glanced over and saw the guy still watching nick leave, a little smile on his face. something about it made me grin.

outside, the air had cooled down. the streets were quiet, lit by the soft yellow haze of streetlights. the car was parked a little ways down, and we walked in comfortable silence, the four of us spreading out along the sidewalk.

“that guy was cute,” i said softly to nick.

“you think?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“yeah,” i said, bumping his shoulder. “you gonna text him?”

“already did.”

i giggled. “of course.”

when we reached the car, matt got into the driver’s seat, nick slid into the passenger seat and immediately started messing with the aux.

“don’t play anything sad,” chris called out as he opened the back door. nick frowned

i climbed in beside chris, the door shutting with a dull thud behind me. the car smelled faintly like sunscreen and spearmint gum. i tucked my legs up a little on the seat, and chris settled in the seat next to me.

“can we get food?” nick asked matt. he groaned.

“yes,” i immediately jumped up.

“thank you,” nick replied, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.

“oh my god, not both of you.” matt rubbed his eyes.

“actually,” chris added. “ i’m hungry too.”

matt sighed, shaking his head, but chris was already pulling up directions to the nearest drive-thru.

“you’re all the worst,” matt muttered, even as he changed lanes.

nick turned back toward the front, triumphant.

the car eased away from the curb, and the party faded behind us, just noise and light in the rearview. i leaned my head against the window for a second, the cold glass grounding me, until i felt chris’s fingers lightly brush against mine.

i looked down, then at him.

he didn’t say anything. just lifted his hand slowly and linked his pinky with mine. not a full hold, not a statement. just something small.

i let it stay there. let it mean whatever it meant.

matt turned up the volume just as a soft, acoustic song filled the car.

the city blurred outside, and for a few minutes, no one said anything. just the music, and the rhythm of the road, and the steady feel of chris beside me.

when we pulled into the drive-thru line, the car went quiet again for a minute. the low rumble of the engine, the familiar hum of the drive-thru speaker, comforting in a way only late-night food runs could be. the kind that always felt like a reset button after a loud party or too many feelings.

when it was finally our turn, nick did the ordering, leaning forward with the kind of confidence that meant he was in a very good mood.

once we got to the window, chris handed over his card before anyone else could even reach for their wallets. i gave him a look, but he just shrugged.

“i’m trying to be nice,” he said. “let me be nice.”

nick snorted. “this is him making up for the months of emotional damage.”

“shut up,” chris muttered, but he was smiling.

we took the bags and drinks, the warm scent of fries filling the car instantly. nick immediately sorted through the bags and handed ours back.

i tossed a fry at him, and he caught it in his mouth, immediately celebrating like he’d won the lottery.

“i’m so good,” he said through a mouthful. “matt, did you see that?”

“i’m ignoring all of you,” matt said flatly. he pulled out of the parking lot, the streets were quiet in that comforting way that only happened between midnight and morning.

i shifted in my seat, legs still curled up under me, hoodie pulled tight against the chill. the fries were perfectly warm and my drink sweat in my hand. chris was almost halfway through his burger, taking slow bites, but swallowing quickly.

nick wasn’t done talking about the guy from earlier. “listen, i’m not making this up,” he said, voice low but serious, like he was explaining something important. “he was definitely flirting. like, he wasn’t just polite or friendly. he was really trying to get my attention.”

chris raised an eyebrow but said nothing, still chewing.

“he looked me up and down. like really looked,” nick kept going. “then he smiled, but not just a quick polite smile. his whole face lit up. the kind of smile that’s saying, ‘hey, i’m into you.’”

matt rolled his eyes but giggled anyway. “you sure it wasn’t just a friendly smile? he looked really straight.”

“what? gay people have to look a certain way? is that what you’re saying, matt?” nick accused. everyone burst out in giggles and chuckles.

“no, no, i’m not.” matt shook his head, smiling.

“i don’t know,” nick said, more thoughtful now, chewing on a fry. “he seemed real. not just, like.. interested for the night.”

chris was pulling fries from the shared bag between us, chewing slowly, listening to nick speak half-heartedly, passing me the cup every so often. i didn’t mind. i liked his drink better anyway. matt was driving, one hand on the wheel, the other holding his drink. he sipped it without looking. nick continued talking.

he was already texting the guy he met. like, actively. he’d trail off and i’d catch him glance down at his phone every few seconds, typing fast, pausing, then smiling in that way people do when they’re trying not to.

i nudged him. “you good?”

he didn’t even look up. “mhm.”

chris leaned closer, mock-whispering like we weren’t in a car. “he’s gone.”

nick rolled his eyes but didn’t bother defending himself. he was too busy grinning down at his screen. the glow of it lit up his face, soft around the edges.

i leaned over to peek and saw a name saved with a single emoji next to it. “miles 🌀”

“you already gave him a name emoji?” i asked, teasing.

nick didn’t even blink. “obviously. he earned it.”

“earned it how?” chris chimed in, half-laughing.

nick shrugged but his thumbs kept moving, then he grinned again. “he remembered what candy i liked and he said he’s gonna bring me some next time.”

“next time?” i echoed.

nick looked up, still smiling. “yeah. we’re getting coffee on wednesday– or tuesday.”

matt snorted from the drivers seat. “you’re moving fast, damn.”

“he gave me his number and he hugged me goodbye. am i being lovebombed?,” nick asked

i laughed, “it’s not lovebombing if you’re aware of it,”

nick nodded. chris leaned his head back against the seat. “i like this version of nick.”

“you mean emotionally available?” i asked, grinning.

“no,” chris said, eyes closed. “i mean quiet. when he’s texting, he’s not talking.”

nick and matt both made a face. “wow, chris, that’s rich.” nick said, but his thumbs kept moving.

“what are you even saying?” i asked.

“nothing cool,” nick admitted. “we’re literally talking about cereal. he said he likes frosted flakes and i said that’s basic. now we’re fighting.”

i smiled. “true love.”

all three of them chuckled.

chris’s hand brushed against mine again, fingers loose but intentional, and this time i didn’t hesitate. i curled my pinky around his.

nick made a soft little sound, the kind people make when they’re reading something sweet. he didn’t even try to hide it.

“okay, now i need to know,” i said, leaning over more. “what did he say?”

nick blushed– actually blushed, and tilted his phone so we couldn’t see it. “he said he’s glad i came to the party tonight.”

“aw,” i said, half-melting.

“and,” nick added, barely above a whisper now, “that he wasn’t planning on talking to anyone, but something about me made him want to.”

matt let out a low, impressed whistle. “damn. he’s got game.”

“no,” nick said, his thumbs hovering over the screen. “he’s just.. sincere. i don’t know.”

“what’s he like?” chris asked. “we saw him at the party and you guys looked like you were about to fuckin’ makeout or something.”

nick laughed under his breath, then shrugged. “he’s calm. like, really calm. like i know i talk a lot, but he doesn’t rush to respond. he just kind of.. takes me in. it’s nice.”

i felt my chest tighten a little. “that’s sweet.”

the car had gone quiet again, just the low hum of the road and nick’s occasional typing. chris had moved his hand to my thigh, his thumb brushing slow, absent circles on it. i could feel him thinking. that quiet kind of tension he got when words were building up but refusing to come out.

then, without letting go of me, he shifted, tugging his phone from his hoodie pocket with his free hand. i watched out of the corner of my eye as he opened his notes app and started typing, his brows furrowed just slightly.

when he was done, he turned the screen toward me without a word.

‘Idrk how to say this but I really really appreciate U. U make me feel like myself. And I’m sorry abt tonight. I promise we can be more public from now on. I’m ready’

i blinked down at the words. “chris,” i said softly, already smiling, i didn’t know what to say. i brought his face to mine and pressed a few kisses to his cheeks.

he didn’t pull away, just let me. his skin was warm under my lips, and i felt the little flutter of his breath as his hand found mine again. it wasn’t much, but it felt like everything.

“i wasn’t planning on saying anything tonight,” he murmured. “i didn’t know i needed to.”

i tilted my head just enough to see him, “i’m glad you did.”

from the front seat, matt made a strangled sort of noise. “you guys need a room,”

nick looked up from his phone, deadpan. “just put the car in reverse and let god decide.”

we all giggled and i made a face. “you were just fucking swooning over a guy you met tonight.”

nick looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find anything. he settled. “we can both be down bad.”

“i’m not down bad,” i said, though my voice had already gone soft again. chris’s thumb brushed my knuckles once, slow and deliberate. i glanced at him and smiled, quieter now. “okay, maybe i am.”

matt groaned dramatically from the front, but didn’t add anything this time. he just turned the music up a little, some mellow song filling the car like background to the way chris kept looking at me.

the car ride didn’t last much longer. matt pulled into the driveway and then the garage and cut the engine but no one rushed to get out.

nick was still on his phone, grinning at something, and matt leaned forward over the wheel like he needed a minute.

chris didn’t move at all. his hand was still in mine.

i turned to look at him, and he met my gaze like he’d already been waiting. his expression was unreadable at first, all soft focus and something behind his eyes, until he cleared his throat gently.

“you staying over?” he asked, voice low.

my heart skipped a beat, just one. “if i can,”

he nodded once. “of course,”

we all climbed out, chris stayed close, his hand brushing the small of my back as we walked through the door like it was second nature.

the garage door rumbled shut behind us, leaving a soft echo in its place. matt was the first one inside, barely mumbled a “night” before disappearing upstairs to the middle floor.

chris and i stepped inside together, through the door that opened straight into the bottom level of the house. chris’s room was right there, i paused in the hallway with him, toeing off my shoes.

“i’m gonna grab some water,” i said.

chris nodded, “m’kay,” he said, entering his room.

i padded up the stairs, footsteps soft. i glanced down the hallway and saw matt entering his room, a few seconds later, i heard a scratch of furniture as he presumably fell down onto his bed. other than that, everything was quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge.

in the kitchen, i filled a glass from the filter and leaned against the counter. the night still clung to my skin.

“hey,” nick said, appearing up the stairs, still scrolling through his phone.

“hey,” i echoed, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

he leaned against the wall, thumbs moving quickly. “just told him goodnight. took me like five minutes to decide if it was too much.”

“was it?”

he shook his head, almost smiling. “nah. he sent a ‘sweet dreams’ first. i win.”

i took a sip from my glass and tilted my head. “you sticking around down here?”

“nah, just needed to breathe for a sec. and make sure you were okay.” he glanced up at me, briefly serious. “you are, right?”

i nodded, letting the glass rest against the counter. “yeah. tonight was– unexpected. but good.”

“yeah,” he said softly, then nodded toward the stairs. “he looked happy. chris.”

i smiled a little. “he is. i think.”

nick pushed off the wall and gave a quiet little sigh. “good.”

he started up the next flight to his room, still scrolling, still smiling. “night,” he called.

“night, nick.”

i stayed in the kitchen a moment longer, listening to the soft click of his door above me. then i turned off the light and went back downstairs to where chris was waiting.

i stepped inside without knocking. he was stretched out on his bed, one leg dangling off the side, eyes on his phone. the tv was on, some old sitcom i couldn’t remember the name of right now. he looked up when he heard me.

“hey,” he said, soft, tired, like we were already halfway into a conversation.

“hey,” i shut the door behind me.

he shifted to make space and reached a hand out lazily. i climbed onto the bed beside him, folding one leg up underneath me. his hand found my wrist like it always did, thumb brushing over the inside of it.

“you get your water?” he asked, smiling a little.

“yep,” i said, “nick said you looked happy.”

chris giggled. “scary.” he sat up.

“actually? kind of sweet.”

he tilted his head toward me. “you think he’s jealous?”

i raised a brow. “of what?”

“me,” he said simply, like it wasn’t a question, just something he’d been holding onto.

i smiled at him, soft. “no. i think he’s proud of you.”

he smiled. his arm came around me without hesitation, holding me close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“you looked good tonight,” he said quietly.

i looked up. “yeah?”

“yeah.” he brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering. “it was hard trying not to stare.”

i grinned. “did you fail?”

he leaned in a little. “miserably.”

i turned just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “good.”

he moved so our lips were together and kissed me back, slow, unhurried, like there wasn’t anything else worth rushing toward.

i felt his hands on my waist, sliding up my sides, under my hoodie. his touch sent goosebumps up my arms, and i shivered a little, pressing closer to him.

his hands moved to my lower back, pulling me in fully. i could feel him pressing against me now, hard against my hip, and i let out a soft gasp against his mouth. he hummed quietly in response, not breaking the kiss.

he moved to my jaw and then my neck "chris, it's late.." i mumbled. but i didn't stop him, i didn't want him to stop

he murmured against my skin, “you want me to stop?” i felt him smirk and his teeth scraped over my neck. i hummed, not in agreement, but not in disagreement.

“i want you,” he mumbled. “do you want me to stop?” he repeated, pausing his movements.

i shook my head, hands tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer. “no, keep going, please.”

he chuckled and continued mouthing down my neck, finding a sensitive spot just below my ear. i let my head fall back slightly, giving him more space, and moaned softly when he bit down slightly.

his hands traveled up under my hoodie, he went far enough to where he could tug down my dress, and gently, he did. he then brought his hands behind me and unclasped my bra.

“fuck,” he murmured as he kneaded my boobs. i moaned softly.

he pulled away just enough to look at me, hands moving to the hem of the hoodie and pulling it off me.

i tugged my dress all the way down, leaving me in just my underwear. he pulled back a little to pull his shirt over his head. i took a second to admire his body, i would never get tired of doing that.

he grinned. “you gonna just sit there and stare?”

i giggled and straddled his lap, kissing him again. his hands moved to my hips, fingers almost digging into the soft skin.

he deepened the kiss, tongue swiping at my bottom lip until i opened for him.

one of his hands slid up the inside of my thigh. i moaned into his mouth, shifting my weight against him.

he broke the kiss, “you’re so fucking pretty.” he said, voice nearly a raspy whisper. he flipped us around suddenly, me on my back on the bed with him hovering above me.

i wrapped my legs around his waist and brought him closer, rolling my hips up against his until he groaned and ducked his head to kiss my neck again.

i moaned, hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “these need to come off,” i murmured, arching up against him again.

he pulled back slightly, just enough to get the jeans and boxers off, then settled back between my legs.

i ran my manicured hands up the front of his chest, feeling how he inhaled sharply as i drug my nails along his abs and back down over his hips.

he leaned back down, his right hand running up and down the insides of my thighs until he was rubbing me over the fabric of my underwear.

he moved them to the side, and i gasped when his finger ran up my slit.

“oh god..” i moaned.

his fingers circled my clit, spreading my wetness around and pressing a little harder. i moaned again, and could feel him smiling against my neck. “you’re so wet.” he murmured. “you want me that bad?”

“yes,” i nodded.

he moved his hand, pressing a digit inside. i arched up against him, trying to get more. “please..” i said, a little breathless. “chris, please..“

he added a second finger as i moaned.

“don’t tease,” i said, still trying to get more of him. “i need–“ i stopped with a gasp when he curled his fingers. “oh, god.” he let out a laugh.

i smacked his chest lightly, then moaned again when he hit that spot again. “chris, mm!” hips rolling up to meet his hand. he moaned into my neck, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

he pulled his hand out, and i whined, but he was already lining himself up. he slid inside me, my body tensing at the stretch, and we both moaned together. “oh god,” i whimpered, feeling him rock forward slowly. he leaned in to kiss and bite at my neck, giving me a moment to adjust.

he started a slow, steady rhythm as i moaned with each thrust. i moved my hands to his back, fingernails raking over his shoulders. he moaned again, biting down on my shoulder.

“faster,” i moaned. “chris, please– faster.”

he obliged, speeding up. he shifted up a bit, pushing my legs further apart, and changing the angle. i almost cried out loudly, covering my mouth. “there, right there,” i moaned, hands moving to grip his arm.

he continued his rhythm and the heat in my stomach coiled tighter and tighter. “chris– i’m close,” i moaned, my legs tightening around his waist.

“yeah,” he moaned. “me too– shit.” his rhythm was faltering now, hips losing their steady beat.

his hand moved back down between us and he circled my clit with his fingers, picking up where he’d left off. my moans got louder, almost whiny. his fingers rubbed at my clit faster, harder, more desperate.

he was getting even more rough now, driving into me hard and fast. “chris– right there, right there, don’t stop–“ he hit my g-spot a few more times and that was it.

my back came up off the bed and i moaned, feeling my walls flutter around him. he groaned loud and pressed deep “that’s it, god’s you’re so tight.” he moaned as my muscles gripped him. he came inside me, my legs shook and my head rolled back as i moaned louder.

his hips stilled and he moaned, burying his face in my neck. i could feel his warm breath as he pressed open mouthed kisses to my skin. his weight was pinning me down, and we just laid like that for a moment.

he shifted a bit, resting his forehead against mine. “fuck. you look so pretty,” he said. i giggled and brought his face back to mine to kiss him.

he kissed me back, gentler now, before pulling out. he flopped back down next to me, and i leaned over him, running my fingers down his chest. he pulled me against him carefully, and i settled myself on him.

he pressed a kiss into my hair. “love you,” he mumbled, hand gently running up and down my side. i hummed happily, pressing a light kiss to the center of his chest. “love you too.”

i was brought back to reality a few moments later. “"fuck, i still need to shower- wait, what time is it?" i asked. he leaned over to grab his phone from the nightstand.

“uhh..” he squinted at the time. “2:47.”

i groaned. "shit, chris, i have an event tomorrow," i started to get up to head to the shower, chris’ sheet wrapped around me.

he grabbed my wrist, pulling me back down. “no, i miss you.” he said.

“chris, i’m all gross and sticky, and my makeup’s all ruined. i need to shower.” i whined, but i couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“you’re not gross, you’re perfect,” he mumbled, trying to pull me closer.

"i am gross, and i need to shower." i rolled my eyes fondly, standing up again.

he groaned and pouted. “fine. go get your stupid shower.” he said. i giggled, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. “i’ll be back,” i said before getting up and going into his bathroom.

i got to the bathroom and started the shower, while i waited for it to warm up, i took the time to admire the state i was in in the full length mirror. my skin was marked with various hickeys and small bites, my hair messy, my makeup smudged and mostly gone. i touched the spot on neck where he had bit me earlier; i knew it was going to be a dark bruise tomorrow. i decided i would cover it with makeup, wasn’t anything i wasn’t used to.

i was too tired to take a full shower, but i washed my body and face and brushed my teeth with the toothbrush i kept there. when i got out and opened the door back into chris' room, he was clothed and laying back on his bed, scrolling his phone, the tv was still on.

he looked up when i entered the room, and a smirk immediately took over his face at the sight of me in only my towel. “you done being all ‘clean and perfect’ now?” he asked.

"'clean and perfect?' chris, are you seriously not gonna shower?" i retorted.

he shook his head. “it’s like 3 am, i’m not showering.”

i tsked, heading over to look through his dresser and grab something to sleep in. i had my own clothes there, but i liked sleeping in his, i put on my own underwear but grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants that were his.

when i got in bed, he immediately pulled me close so i was laying half on top of him, hands sneaking under the hoodie to settle on my waist.

he rested his chin on the top of my head, and i snuggled into him. it was silent for a few minutes before he spoke. “i know you’re tired, but can we talk about something?”

"about earlier? the whole party thing?" i asked.

he sighed. “yeah,” he said, then paused. i stayed silent, waiting for him to form his thoughts, and he shifted beneath me. “i’m trying so hard to act normal but it’s like–“ he huffed, and i could feel his grip tighten on my waist. “i know most of our friends know we’re dating, and it’s been this like– ‘you can’t tell just anyone’ type of thing, and earlier i said we could be more public, and we really can if that's what you want, but you need to know how insane the internet will be.”

i was quiet for a second. i understood where he was coming from, i leaned up a little so i could look at him. “i know, chris. everything we've done for the last year, every video, every stream, every time we’ve ever looked at each other, it’s all been overanalyzed to the extreme. and they’re never upset with you, they’re upset with me, and i get that that scares you, it kinda scares me too, but...” i paused, shifting my position so i was almost straddling him again, and finding my next words, but he spoke before i could.

“i don’t wanna be scared anymore.” he said. “not when it feels like this..”

he was looking up at me, eyes searching my face and expression, waiting to see if i understood what he was trying to say. i gently slid a hand up to cup his face, thumb running over his jawline in a soothing gesture. “i don’t wanna be scared either,” i said, quietly, and he visibly relaxed slightly, like my answer actually calmed him.

he looked like he wasn't exactly sure where to go from here, so i spoke. "listen, none of this has to be right this second. we don't have to hard launch right away, especially not at 3 in the fucking morning."

he let out a small laugh. “agreed.” he said, and i could feel the tension leave his body. "we can figure this out in the morning, or sometime soon, but right now i just want to sleep. and cuddle." he said, giving my waist a light squeeze.

"yeah," i whispered, snuggling closer to him. "that sounds good." my body felt heavy, the exhaustion of the night finally catching up with me. i could feel the tension in my own muscles start to melt away, and i relaxed into him, letting the comfort of his presence lull me. he was still tracing small patterns on my side, the motion soothing, grounding.

as i settled in, the quiet hum of the room surrounding us, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over everything, the low murmur of the tv on the wall, just enough to create a background noise, barely audible over the sound of our breathing.

chris's fingers had stopped their gentle tracing on my skin, and his breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm. the tv’s volume stayed low, a whisper of a distraction, but not enough to pull me away from the weight of his presence next to me.

his chest rose and fell beneath me, steady and calming, and before i even realized it, my mind started to quiet, too. the sounds of the room, the faint laugh from the tv, everything blurred into one soft, indistinguishable blanket of sound. and then, just like that, the world felt small.

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chrxsprettygirl · 2 days ago

Text

𝑻𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄!𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏!𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑼𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒏

AN: THIS IS FICTIONAL. i dont think Chris or Marylou would ever act like this this just for entertainment purpose only!! Also I love this song so much u should listen to it :)

You should’ve known better.

From the beginning, Chris Sturniolo was the kind of boy your mom warned you about — charming in that cold, I-don’t-care way. The kind who says just enough to keep you hooked, but never enough to keep you safe.

And still, you let him in.

⸻

It started casual.

Talking every night. FaceTimes that turned into sleepy 3AM silences. “I don’t really do relationships,” he said once, and you just hummed, pretending it didn’t sting.

Then one night, sitting in your dorm with your legs over his lap and a movie playing on mute, he looked at you like he was actually seeing you for the first time.

“You’re mine now, yeah?”

It wasn’t a question. But you nodded anyway.

⸻

Bringing him home to meet your family was your idea.

It felt right. You’d been talking for months. You knew the shape of every scar on his hand, the way he slept with his jaw clenched, like he never fully relaxed. He never said I love you, but you felt it. Or you thought you did.

He sat stiff on your parents’ couch while your mom served dinner and your dad tried to get him to talk.

He barely made eye contact. Didn’t touch his plate. Kept checking his phone like he couldn’t wait to leave.

You brushed it off. “He’s just nervous,” you told yourself.

But when he left that night, he didn’t say goodbye. No hug. No kiss. Just a quick nod and he was gone.

⸻

Then came the silence.

Two weeks. Nothing.

No texts. No calls. You watched his story once — a picture of his hand around a red cup, middle finger up. Caption: “Don’t catch feelings, catch flights.”

Cute.

When he finally texted you again, it was like nothing had happened.

Chris: Wyd.

Not an apology. Not even an explanation. Just wyd.

⸻

You met up with him anyway.

And the second he walked into your dorm, you knew something was off. He didn’t kiss you. Didn’t touch you. Just sat on your bed like he didn’t even wanna be there.

You crossed your arms. “You good?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You sat beside him, careful not to get too close. “I haven’t heard from you in two weeks, Chris.”

“So?”

“So?” you echoed. “You ghosted me. After meeting my family.”

He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that deep.”

Your stomach twisted. “Maybe not to you.”

He looked at you then — finally — like he was trying to decide if this conversation was worth it. “Why are you always making shit complicated?”

“I’m asking you a simple question,” you said. “What are we doing? What am I to you?”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t start.”

“No,” you cut in, voice firmer. “You met my parents. You slept in my bed. I’ve told you everything about me. And I still don’t know a damn thing about you.”

Silence.

You swallowed. “Can I meet your mom?”

He flinched.

You knew instantly — wrong question.

He stood up. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?”

“Why do you always need more? Why isn’t it enough just being with me?”

Your heart thudded. “You can’t be serious.”

He turned to you, voice sharp. “She’s not gonna like you. You’re not her type.”

“What does that mean?”

He hesitated. Just long enough.

“It means… you’re not good enough.”

It hit like a slap. Not loud. Not violent. Just… cold.

You stared at him, blinking. “Say that again.”

He didn’t.

You nodded slowly. “Cool. Get out.”

“Come on—”

“No,” you said, voice hard now. “Get out of my room, Chris.”

He stared at you like he didn’t think you’d actually say it. But you did.

So he left.

⸻

You didn’t cry.

Didn’t chase. Didn’t reply when he texted three days later. Or four. Or five.

Then, out of nowhere:

Chris: Be ready at 7. Wear something nice.

You stared at the screen.

And for some reason — God knows why — you got dressed.

⸻

He didn’t speak on the drive.

Didn’t hold your hand. Didn’t even look at you.

He pulled up to a cold-looking house in the suburbs. Big, clean, empty-feeling. You followed him up the path like a ghost.

Inside, it was quiet.

His mom stood at the island in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. She looked up. Stared at you.

“This her?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Chris muttered.

She raised an eyebrow. “Thought you said you weren’t serious about her.”

Your breath caught.

Chris didn’t say anything.

She looked you up and down. “Huh.”

No smile. No warmth. No hello.

You stood there, clutching your purse, heat crawling up your neck.

This was not a “meet the family” moment.

This was a punishment.

“I’m gonna go,” you said, quietly.

Chris turned to you, confused. “What?”

“I should’ve believed you when you said I wasn’t good enough,” you said, and walked out the door.

AN:….hey…….how y’all doing

Random tags n taglist: @trevorsgodmother @tezzzzzzzz @weirdothatwrites @dykes4chris @chrepsi @chrissfavhoe @natesfavoritehoe @bamsblooming @chrissleftshoe @chrisslluut @cams-cult @chrissturnioloslvt @starrii-sturns @chriscumslut @chrisshands @chriss-prettyygirll @chrissturnioloswife88 @mattztrip @mattsleftballsack @mattsslvtzx x @mattswrinkleton n @mattsturnswife @mattsturnioloismylordandsaviour @mattsturnioloarchive @matthewsturnsgf @matthewswifeyx @matthewsturniolosactualgf f @nickssidewitch @jayaluvsyu @nicksbestie @adoreechxmpion @sturnshood @sturnswiftie e @sturniolotripletlover2 @chrissturnfavlilslut @abbystromboli @megameatymatt @zenithsturniolo @chrissweetheart

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #addi’s mailbox ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#my moots ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚💌𝒶𝒹𝒹𝒾’𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓁𝒷ℴ𝓍 💌 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚#addi yaps ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#chrxsprettygirl ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #anon ask

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lov3lycosmos · 4 hours ago

Text

Love Awaits -Han Jisung

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Pairings: bf!jisung x fem!reader

Summary: after months of not seeing each other you decide to surprise him by laying on his hotel bed~

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m and f), creampie, crying during sex, possessiveness, soft dom!jisung, begging (verbal), praise kink

Cosmos: be prepared for a request/draft spam as I'm bored and off work today <3 I apologize for my inactiveness

my library!

The hotel bed was still made when you got there, barely touched. A messy heap of stage clothes sat folded on the armchair, and his tour backpack leaned against the wall like it had been dropped in a rush. You sat there for a long time, curled in the center of the sheets, heart pounding, trying to believe you were really here. That it was really happening. That you were going to see him again, tonight.

You’d booked the flight two weeks ago. Jisung hadn’t known. He’d FaceTimed you the night before the concert, yawning and tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie, slumped in that same chair. He told you he missed you. That he was trying to stay strong, to not cry anymore over how much he wanted you beside him. You almost told him. Almost ruined the surprise.

But now, hours later, you were lying in his bed. Alone. Waiting. Nervous, breath shaky with anticipation, the hum of his voice still playing in your head.

“I want to hold you so bad. Can you pretend I’m with you tonight?”

You’d pretended for long enough.

The keycard slipped into the door sometime after midnight.

You froze.

His footsteps padded inside slowly, the soft thump of sneakers kicked off and dropped somewhere near the bathroom. A sniffle. Then a voice.

“Lights are off… weird.”

You pressed your hand to your mouth and sat up, breath caught in your throat.

“Wait—” Jisung’s voice cracked. “No way…”

He flicked on the lamp.

And then it hit him.

He stood in the doorway, utterly still. His hoodie hung off one shoulder, his mask still dangling from one ear. For a split second, he didn’t speak—didn’t even breathe.

Then his knees buckled slightly as he dropped his bag and whispered, “...Baby?”

You smiled through the thick burn behind your eyes. “Hi.”

He rushed to you like he didn’t trust his own legs. His hands were in your hair, on your waist, cupping your face like he couldn’t decide where to touch first.

“You’re here—you’re here—you’re fucking here—”

You laughed wetly. “You’re real.”

Then he kissed you.

And god, he kissed you like he’d been dying. Like he’d been empty for months and didn’t realize how bad it was until now. His lips were soft, but his mouth was frantic—open, desperate, trembling. He made a little whimpering sound when your hands clutched his hoodie and dragged him down on top of you. He climbed onto the bed without thinking, straddling your hips as he cradled your cheeks and kissed you deeper, longer, wetter.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours and his breath shook as he whispered, “I’m gonna fucking cry.”

You wiped his cheek gently, your thumb catching the tear that had already started falling.

“Me too,” you whispered.

He sniffled and laughed and kissed your jaw like he couldn’t stop. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks,” you said. “I missed you so much, Ji.”

“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice cracking. “I couldn’t even touch myself without crying. I kept trying to pretend it didn’t hurt being away from you, but—” he trailed off, and his lips trembled again. “I’m gonna lose it. I love you so much. I can’t even—”

You kissed him quiet, lips molding to his, soft and warm. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, let your body arch into his, clinging as much as he did. He was everywhere, all at once—hands brushing your arms, slipping under your shirt, holding your waist like he needed to anchor himself.

Your voice barely came out. “Then show me.”

Something broke in him.

He kissed you again—slow, reverent, trembling.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered. “I’ll go slow. I’ll take my time. Just… let me have you tonight. Please.”

You nodded, gasping when his hands pushed your shirt up over your head. He peeled it off carefully, like you were something delicate, something he’d never get to touch again if he messed this up. His mouth dropped open at the sight of you. You were braless under the fabric, and he reached out with both hands to trace up your sides, eyes flickering between your face and your chest like he couldn’t pick which was more sacred.

He leaned in, kissing softly along the curve of your breast, breath shaking. “Still mine?”

“Always.”

“Then let me worship you.”

You barely had time to respond before he lowered himself between your thighs, eyes locked to yours, like he wanted permission to breathe. You nodded, already breathless, and his lips found your inner thigh.

Jisung kissed slow. Savoring. His mouth traveled up the inside of your leg, leaving a messy trail. Then he pulled your shorts and underwear off in one careful motion, holding your hips like he’d waited his entire life for this exact moment.

“God,” he whispered. “Look at you. You’re already wet—fuck, baby…”

“Been wet since you walked in,” you whispered, breath hitching as he blew warm air across your folds.

“Don’t say that. I’ll cum just from this.”

Then his mouth was on you.

And nothing else existed.

His tongue moved slowly, deliberately, sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with gentle circles. His hands kept your thighs spread, thumbs brushing your hips while he worshiped you with his mouth like he wasn’t just trying to make you cum—he was trying to say I love you with every stroke.

You cried out, hips twitching.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured into your skin, kissing your inner thigh before diving back in. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make up for all the time I wasn’t here.”

You nodded desperately, threading your fingers into his hair, trying not to cry from how good it felt—how intimate it was.

When his lips latched around your clit and he sucked softly, your hips jerked. He groaned, tongue flicking fast, chasing every sound you made.

“I’m—close—Ji, I’m—”

“Cum for me,” he whispered. “Please, baby. Want it so bad.”

And you did—hard.

Your whole body shook, legs clamping around his head, and he moaned into you like it was the best thing that ever happened to him. He licked you through it slowly, helping you come down with soft kisses and warm hands.

When he crawled back up, his mouth was shiny, his lips swollen.

You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on him, moaning softly when he whined into your mouth. He trembled in your arms, still hard against your thigh.

“I wanna make you feel good too,” you whispered.

He gasped when you pushed him gently onto his back, straddling his hips. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, face already flushed. You leaned down and kissed his chest, then his stomach, slowly making your way lower.

“Baby—fuck—I’m not gonna last—”

“Let me take care of you,” you said, voice soft.

You took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip first, then sinking deeper, your hand working the base. He cried out and grabbed the sheets, thighs trembling.

“Too much—too good—baby, please—”

You moaned around him, and that nearly broke him. His hips bucked, and he whimpered.

“Stop—please—I wanna cum inside you. Please—please—please—”

You pulled off, kissing your way back up to his face. “Then do it.”

He flipped you onto your back, shaking hands finding your hips, eyes still glassy with awe.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. “Can I…?”

You cupped his face. “Jisung. I’m yours.”

He slid in with a trembling breath, slow and careful, his forehead pressed to yours as your bodies joined for the first time in months. You felt every inch, the stretch and fullness making you both gasp softly, clutching each other tighter like you were afraid the other might slip away.

He bottomed out with a quiet whimper, arms wrapping around your back as he sank into the cradle of your hips.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You feel like… you were made for me.”

You stroked his hair, lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect, Jisung.”

He whimpered again, shivering above you. “I missed this. Missed you.”

You kissed him, softly—then again, deeper. Your lips barely left his as his hips started to move.

It was slow. Deliberate. He rocked into you like he had all night, like he didn’t want to rush a single second. His thrusts were smooth, rolling, dragging his length deep each time with wet, quiet sounds between your thighs. And every time he moved, he whispered something into your skin.

“You’re so tight. So warm.”

“I’m not gonna last long, baby—feels too good.”

“I wanna stay inside you forever.”

Your fingernails dragged lightly down his back. You arched into him, wrapping your legs higher around his waist.

He gasped as he sank deeper, the new angle making you both moan. “F-fuck, princess—oh my god…”

You cupped his cheeks, eyes meeting his. “Jisung—look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open, red and glossy. “Yeah—yeah?”

“You’re mine. You always will be.”

His face crumpled.

He kissed you desperately, sloppy and breathless, tears slipping quietly from the corners of his eyes. He moaned into your mouth as his hips picked up just a little more pace—still slow, but now with more urgency. His thrusts grew needier, wetter, your bodies pressed so close you could barely breathe.

The squelch of his cock inside you, the way he whimpered every time your walls fluttered around him—it was too much.

“I wanna cum inside,” he whispered. “I need it, baby. Please.”

You nodded, clinging tighter. “Do it. Fill me up, Jisung. Please.”

He groaned at that—like the words broke something in him.

He buried his face in your neck and started fucking you harder, faster—his hips slapping softly against yours, the bed creaking with the motion. Your name spilled from his lips like prayer.

“You feel so good—so fucking good, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” you begged, nails digging in as your own climax built again. “Inside—fill me up, Ji—please—”

His whole body tensed.

“Baby—fuck—I’m cumming—!”

He moaned your name as he pushed in deep and stayed there, cock throbbing inside you. You felt him spill—so much—hot and warm and thick, painting your insides as he trembled in your arms. His breath hitched with every spurt, and he sobbed once, overwhelmed by how full and close everything felt.

You came with him.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave—your whole body tightening, legs locking around his hips, voice cracking as you fell apart beneath him. You clutched him like a lifeline, barely able to breathe, whispering his name as your walls fluttered around him.

He didn’t pull out.

He couldn’t.

He collapsed on top of you, still buried deep, both of you panting and sweaty and a little teary. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, brushing it back gently as he kissed your shoulder over and over.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin. “So much. I don’t think I can breathe without you anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered back. “I’m not leaving.”

You stayed there for a long time—he didn’t move, didn’t pull out, just laid there, inside you, soaking in everything.

Eventually, he shifted slightly, face still tucked against your throat.

“Did I cum too much?” he asked softly, breathless.

You laughed, stroking his spine. “You definitely did.”

He groaned. “I’m sorry. I just… fuck, I needed you.”

You kissed his temple. “I needed you too.”

He slowly pulled out, and both of you winced at the mess.

His cum dripped from you instantly, and Jisung let out a breathy, broken noise. “That’s so hot I might pass out.”

You swatted his chest. “Clean me up first, then pass out.”

He giggled, soft and sleepy, grabbing tissues from the bedside and tending to you with careful hands. You could tell he was still shaky—emotionally and physically. He kept pausing just to press a kiss to your thigh, your stomach, your cheek.

Once you were clean, he pulled you into his arms under the covers, wrapping around you from behind like a koala. His face was buried in your hair, his breath warm on your neck.

“Don’t let go,” he murmured.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Promise me this wasn’t a dream.”

You turned in his arms, facing him. His hair was a mess, eyes heavy with sleep, cheeks still pink.

You cupped his jaw and kissed him again. Long. Slow. Final.

“It’s real,” you whispered. “You’re mine.”

His voice cracked again. “Say it again.”

“You’re mine.”

He exhaled, a soft, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I’m yours.”

You both fell asleep like that—naked, warm, full of each other, tangled under hotel sheets with tear stains on your cheeks and his love all over your skin.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325 @lezleeferguson-120 @psychicyouthfox @pixie-felix @angel-writes-here @galaxy4489 @minniesverse @gncbnahc @ari-hwanggg @alondra6011 @sk1ndx0 @doliveiraa @soona-huh @rockstarkkami @yxna-bliss @kpetts @nightmarenyxx @victoriaaf

(I'M STILL ADDING PEOPLE TO TAG! comment on any post, send an ask or a message if you want added!)

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woso-story · 10 hours ago

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Through Thick And Thin - Part Eight

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Other Parts

August in Barcelona was heavy with heat and quiet.

The kind of quiet that made everything feel slower. Softer. Lonelier.

You and Alexia were back in your apartment, though it barely felt like home these days. You spent most of your time between the couch, your bed, and the hospital. Still, it was better than before. You could move more freely now. Walk a little with crutches. Shower without help. Make yourself coffee. Things that used to feel like nothing, now felt like everything.

The new season was on the horizon. Just a few more days, and preseason would officially begin. The team was set to fly to the US for a training camp and friendly matches against NWSL sides. Excitement buzzed around the locker room, and even from the couch, you could feel it through Alexia.

But you wouldn’t be going.

You’d stay behind in Barcelona. Alone.

That morning, a hospital driver brought you back from yet another appointment. Another round of scans, another consult. You sat in the backseat, your leg aching, your thoughts heavier than the brace still hugging your leg. The accident had been almost three months ago. The progress had been real, but slow. Too slow.

And now: another surgery. Hopefully the last one. The one that would “restore full function,” they said. The one that would decide what kind of future you could actually expect.

You waited until after dinner to tell Alexia.

She had been out for media duties—press, photos, sponsor obligations. She came home glowing, hair damp from the shower, smiling at you like she always did. But when you said, “They’ve scheduled the surgery,” that smile faltered.

“When?” she asked, already knowing the answer wouldn’t be easy.

“The fifteenth.”

You watched her face fall, watched her do the math in her head. That would be right in the middle of their US trip. She blinked.

“I’ll stay,” she said immediately.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t.”

“I will. I’ll talk to the staff, tell them—”

“Alexia.” You said her name softly but firmly. “You can’t do that.”

She crossed her arms. “You’ll be here, alone. Right after surgery.”

“For the first few days, I’ll still be in the hospital. After that, Julia offered to help. And I’ll start rehab soon anyway.”

Alexia looked at you like she was trying to read through you, like the words weren’t enough. She didn’t like it. But she also couldn’t argue—this was her job. Her team. Her season.

She leaned into you instead, kissed your temple, rested her forehead against yours.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

“I know,” you said. “Me too.”

---

On the fifteenth of August, the morning sun was already high when they rolled you into surgery.

No Alexia.

No Ingrid.

No one.

You woke up hours later in a sterile room, groggy, aching, blinking against the overhead light.

And you were alone.

Last time, there had been hands to hold. Voices whispering that you were okay. Faces filled with love and fierce encouragement.

This time, there was silence.

No soft words. No comforting grip. No anchor.

Just the beep of machines and the weight of a future still unclear.

And for the first time, you let yourself think—really think—about the one thing you hadn’t dared to believe: What if it doesn’t get better?

What if you never play again?

What if football, the thing that built you, broke you, saved you—was gone?

The tears came without warning. And they didn’t stop.

You curled up on your side, shaking, sobbing until your throat burned and your chest ached more than your leg. Nurses came. One of them gave you something to calm down. You barely remember falling asleep after that.

You ignored your phone when Alexia called.

You couldn’t pretend. Not this time. Not tonight.

Later, in the dark, you sent a text:

"Surgery went well. Will call tomorrow. I’m okay."

It wasn’t entirely true. But it was all you could manage.

The next morning, your phone buzzed before the sun had even fully risen.

Ingrid.

You frowned at the screen. It was the middle of the night in the US.

You picked up anyway.

“Ingrid? Why are you awake? Are you okay?” you croaked.

Her face appeared on the screen—tired, softly lit by the hotel lamp. She looked concerned.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” she said gently.

You blinked.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she added. “I wanted to check on you.”

You nodded slowly. “I’m… managing.”

She didn’t push. Just listened.

And somehow, just talking to her—the softness in her voice, the space she gave you—let you breathe again. You told her a little of what happened. Not everything. But enough.

“You can call me whenever,” she said when you were both quiet for a moment. “Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

You nodded again, wiping your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said. “Really.”

She smiled. “Get some rest, okay? We’ll be back before you know it.”

Later that day, Alexia called again.

You answered this time.

She didn’t say much at first. Just looked at you through the screen, her eyes tired, worried, gentle.

“I wish I was there,” she said softly.

“I know.”

“Are you… okay?”

You hesitated. Then nodded. “Not really. But I will be.”

Her eyes welled up, but she didn’t cry. She just whispered, “I miss you.”

You smiled faintly. “Come home soon.”

“I’m counting the days.”

And even though the space between you still felt wide, her voice brought a little warmth into the room.

#alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #woso community #woso #woso fics #barca femeni #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia x reader #alexia putellas

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callsign-rogueone · 3 days ago

Text

eighteen hours

sawyer henrick x reader (peach!)

words: 2.2k

🏷️: onyx storm spoilers (first few chapters), light angst re; peach’s fate after ditching a month of school to go to aretia, catriona lovers should be pleased with this chapter, it’s nice to let the girlfriends go a little feral sometimes, but it always has to immediately be followed by guilt because that’s how we do things on this blog, a little casual dom sawyer at the end there… and of course angst about him being bed bound and unable to take care of her ❤️‍🩹 but he’ll be out of the infirmary in their next chapter and then things will get a little sexy…

You’d decided to wait for a moment when everyone was here at the same time — it’ll be hard enough to give this speech once, let alone two or even three times. Rehearsing it in the mirror in your room had nearly broken you. But now that everyone is here, and you have to feel all of their pity, all at once, that seems like a bad idea. At least you’ll have the next week, and the rest of your life, to get over it.

“I, um… I have to tell you all something.”

All eyes turn toward you, softening — it’s clear from the quiet, strained tone of your voice that whatever this is, it won’t be good.

“I’m being dishonorably discharged. I just wanted to say thank you, and goodbye.”

Sawyer stiffens beside you, and the girls wince, but it’s Ridoc who speaks first. “That’s bullshit! None of us were even reprimanded for leaving. Why are they punishing you?”

“They don’t need me,” you say gently. “You guys are bonded to dragons for life. I’m just another healer.”

Violet picks up on the resignation in your voice, ever observant. “You’re not going to fight it?”

“I tried. There’s no getting around the fact that I went AWOL for nearly a month. I’m lucky they’re letting me go home, honestly.” The squad is silent, not knowing what to say, so you continue; if you let the words hang in the air too long, you’re going to cry again. “It won’t be too bad. I might never have the title of a learned healer, but they can’t take away the things they’ve taught me. I can go back to the valley and help people there, where they need it most. Just… remember to write every now and then, yeah?” you ask, your voice breaking.

Rhiannon is sitting closest to you, and she pulls you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry, I thought I was over it,” you sniff, blotting at your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, which is a terrible idea in terms of sterility, but it’s all you have at the moment. “But this is the one thing I’ve wanted all my life, and to leave you all now…”

“When do you have to go?” Violet asks softly.

“Tomorrow, at noon.”

Sawyer squeezes your hand, finally speaking. “Then we have… eighteen hours to convince the leadership to let you stay.”

Your lips part to reply — and then you hear a scream rip its way down the hall.

“They’re within the walls,” Violet says, likely relaying the information from Tairn. “You need to get out of here, now.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not leaving him, or any of the patients.”

Cat turns to you, deciding how to best articulate exactly how stupid that would be. “You do realize that—”

“Give her the bow,” Sawyer interrupts. “She can split an apple clean in half from a hundred yards.”

Her eyebrows raise, then fall. “I guess there’s not much else to do in the middle of nowhere. Go for the eyes or the throat,” she advises, shrugging off the quiver and extending it to you.

“Don’t touch the arrowheads,” Sawyer instructs. “I’m gonna try to reshape them.”

“Can you do that from a distance?”

“Worth a shot.”

It’s been two full years since you’ve held a bow, let alone shot an arrow, but you don’t have much of a choice — it’s this, or letting dozens of people die.

The eyes or the throat. You can do that, right?

A purple-robed figure slips through the doors of the wing, fading the color from the tiles of the floor as they step on them, from the linen sheets on the beds as they pass by.

The bowstring pulls tight, the first shot missing by two inches from the shake of your hands — but it has the venin turning toward you, red irises meeting yours. Their face is ghost-white, the only coloring that of their veins, highlighted bright crimson like a textbook drawing.

And they’re getting closer, clearly intent on leeching your life away, however that works.

You have no intention of finding out.

You notch another arrow, take aim, and let sail. It pierces their shoulder with a sickening wet thunk that’s immediately followed by a scream of pain. Better, but not good enough.

Third time’s the charm — you finally get the throat, and they sink to their knees before falling still. But there’s two more closing in.

One takes an arrow to the collarbone, swearing in a language you’ve never heard before Maren’s runed dagger lodges into their chest.

The other is better at evading your shots, weaving around the beds and ducking behind supply carts, continuing to fade all the color from everything they touch. That must be how they get their power.

They’re too close to shoot accurately, but you still have a weapon. Several of them, actually. And they’re expecting you to retreat, to run.

To run away, that is. Not straight toward them.

There’s an agonized shout of your name from across the room, but you don’t turn your head — instead lifting your arm, swiping Sawyer’s dagger across their neck. They fall to their knees as they choke, clawing at their throat in a failed attempt to stop the bleeding.

The sight of all that red spilling out of their skin sets off an alarm in your head, the immediate instinct that you need to fix it, and an immediate sick feeling in your stomach.

Blood has never bothered you before.

But you’ve never been the one to spill it.

The dagger slips from your hand, the perfect grooves of the handle slickened with sweat. The bow falls to the floor beside it, the nearly empty quiver shrugged off and dropped too, its one remaining arrow rolling across the bloodied tiles.

You cover your mouth, trying to breathe through your nose as acid rises in your throat.

“I’ve got him,” Maren promises. “Go.”

You nod a thank you, turning and bolting down the hall.

Cat follows a step behind you, holding back your hair and your robes as you drop to the floor in front of the toilet. “Attagirl. Better out than in.”

“I just…” you whisper.

“I know.”

“They were people.”

“Were,” she emphasizes. “At one point, they were people. Now they’re monsters.”

“I’m supposed to do no harm.”

“You held the line, and saved the lives of every healer and patient who was there, including Sawyer,” she says gently, wiping what must be venin blood from your cheeks with a damp towel. “You prevented so much more harm.”

That’s one way to think about it, you suppose.

It doesn’t do much to ease your guilt.

How do your friends deal with this?

You aren’t sure about the others, but you know Violet has killed before, slit the throat of some boy who was sent to kill her. That was as much self defense as this was. Does she think about that moment every day, playing it on an endless loop in her mind? How many Hail-Amaris did she say that night? How many will be enough for the queen of the gods to forgive either of you?

Cat places a fleeting hand on your shoulder, standing up to discard the dirty towel, and the bathroom door creaks closed behind her.

A long moment passes before you rise from the floor, washing your hands and swirling a shot of disinfectant around your mouth to take away the acidic taste.

You waited long enough, evidently. The bodies are gone, the blood, too. It’s as if you’d dreamed it all up — except for the bleached tiles of the floor under your boots as you walk back to Sawyer’s bedside, settling on the edge of the mattress. His arm is around you in an instant, his head resting against your chest.

You stay like that for a long while, even as your friends come and go, sitting in near complete silence.

There isn’t much to say. But you don’t need words to feel the depth of each other’s pain and sadness, don't need to tell each other how terrifying that was, how you thought you’d lose them. It’s enough to stay there, leaning into his touch, combing your fingers through his hair, letting your eyes fall closed.

This may be the last time you can ever do any of this.

Footsteps have your eyes flying open, your hand reaching for the dagger that no longer rests at your hip. But the two robed figures approaching aren’t venin — just Helen and Winifred. And they’re here to speak to you, evidently.

“We heard what you did today.”

Fuck. They were already letting you off easy with a discharge, but now for them to find out that you broke the Healer’s Oath…

“It was quite the display, from what I’ve heard. A healer cadet killing two dark wielders.”

“Three,” you correct in a whisper.

Maren had helped with the second one, but you’d shot him before he went down. You’ll already wear the title of murderer for the rest of your life — might as well count him, too.

“The board has decided we’d like you to stay,” Winifred finishes for her.

What?

“You did an incredibly difficult thing today. There will be moments in your career like this — not exactly like this, of course, but situations when you have to decide how to best uphold the Oath. I, and several others on the board, have decided that you did that today, and your actions were justified.”

A beat, as you process her words.

Sawyer squeezes your hand gently, prompting you to say something.

“Thank you,” you breathe, bowing your head. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise I’ll work twice as hard as I was before.”

Helen looks unconvinced, pursing her lips and huffing a breath of disbelief before turning to leave.

Winifred offers you a knowing smile over her shoulder, lingering a moment. “Some of us still remember what it’s like to be young and in love with a man who has sworn his life to the crown. And to make the choice to go where you’re needed most, knowing it could cost you everything… it doesn’t get much more exemplary than that.”

Sawyer leans into you a little further, and you can feel the warmth of his pride in his touch. “I knew they’d come around.”

Your lips part in realization. “You were the one who told them, weren’t you?”

He just smiles, giving you one last gentle squeeze. “You should get some sleep. You have a lot of work to do, starting tomorrow.”

—————-

A lot of work, indeed.

Sawyer doesn’t see you for the next three days.

“She’s resting,” Trager answers before Sawyer can ask, saving him the awkwardness. He glances around, seeing nobody, but still lowers his voice as he continues. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, with healer-patient confidentiality and all, but she collapsed this morning.”

Sawyer’s eyes blow wide. “What happened?”

The flier starts unwrapping the bandages, inspecting the sutures underneath. “They’re overworking her. Their justification is that she missed a month of work and school, so she has to make up for it now by doing double shifts, and turning in all her assignments by the end of this week.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who could possibly do a month’s work in a week?”

“Not her, evidently.”

It’s clear that Trager regrets his choice of words as soon as they’re spoken, but Sawyer doesn’t fault him for it, knowing it’s not intended as an insult.

He doesn’t see you until after dark, when you drag yourself out of bed and down to the infirmary. “Wanted to see you before visiting hours ended,” you murmur, bringing a hand up to cover a jaw-cracking yawn.

“You cut your nails,” he realizes, a little dismayed.

“Mm. Don’t have time to paint them anymore, anyway.”

“How are your assignments coming?”

You hum in response. “Two more essays, n’ then I’m done with it all. G’nna finish tonight.”

“I think you should sleep first,” he prods gently. “They can wait until morning.”

You shake your head, covering yet another yawn. “They’re due Friday night, and I have to work the next two days.”

“But they won’t be any good if you write them when you’re all loopy and sleep deprived.”

Oh.

The frown it brings to your face makes his heart ache, makes him regret this approach — but he has to do something to prevent you from working yourself to the bone, and his options are limited. “Shower, then sleep. No more writing until you’ve eaten breakfast, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl. C’mere.”

You step forward without thought, letting him press a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” you murmur. “G’night.”

He wants nothing more than to go with you, to get you through the shower and ready for bed, curl up with you and let you rest your head over his heart like you did every night in Aretia, but all he can do is watch from his bed as you walk away.

#sawyer and peach #sawyer henrick #sawyer henrick x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine

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love-bucky-3000 · 7 hours ago

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Catnapped (Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Your cat went missing and came back with a collar with a tag that belonged to a mystery man, you were determined to find out who this J. Barnes was and find out why he stole your cat.

WC ~3000

warnings: no triggers, just some slight angst and meet cute with Bucky

a.n. i had this idea to write more in the universe of my Joyride series (18+ no minors pls)! these will mostly be oneshots, not really a full on series, but just some stories that have a little background from other oneshots weaved into them. This one is how you met Bucky :)

send me some requests for mob bucky/ mob steve (or both) x reader and I will try and add them to the universe :)

share and enjoy!!

The weather reflected your mood- dark and sad. The grey clouds overhead threatened to match the tears on your face with rain. You had just walked out of another vet clinic, desperately hoping they had seen your fluffy white cat, Casper. Casper escaped from the fire escape nestled under the window of your Brooklyn apartment. You had opened it when you accidently forgot about the cookies you were baking. No more reading and baking at the same time for you. You had Casper for almost a year and didn’t think anything of the window being open until a flash of white shot out. You had called out to her as she leaped down the metal stairs to the ground, scurrying deeper into the alley as Brooklyn traffic scared the shit out of her.

You scrambled down after her, adrenaline making you forget about how unstable the fire escape was and how high off the ground you were. You jumped down and ran after the fluff ball. You almost had her in your grasp when she found a hole in the chainlink fence at the end of the alley and disappeared.

It has been almost a month without your cat and you were still heartbroken. Her stuff was still around your apartment and you kept the window to the fire escape open while you were home. You even placed her little box outside like the internet said to, but no cat has returned.

You spent your days mopping around. You slightly enjoyed not waking up at the ass crack of dawn to feed her when your shift at the local coffeehouse didn’t start until noon most days, but you would trade the extra sleep to have your cat back. Once a week, you went to every pet store, rescue and clinic in the area to see if anyone has turned in your cat, but you’ve been unlucky so far. Every place has your number to call if a white cat pops up, but you hate sitting around and waiting.

On your way back from your shift at the coffee house, you had stopped at the vet office closest to your apartment and received the same answer, “Sorry, your cat isn’t here.” You were now walking back after another day of rejection. The rain above started to come down just as you reached your apartment door. You hurried inside, slamming the door shut behind you and resting back against it. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the wood door, breathing deeply. Today was hell. It seemed like every person that came into the coffeehouse today had a stick up their ass and they took it out on you. Make me that. Fix me this. You hated it, but it paid rent, mostly.

A scratching noise took you out of your thoughts. You jerked your head up and surveyed your apartment. The living room was clear, check. The hallway to your right was clear, check. You heard it again. You cautiously made your way forward, entering the kitchen and dining room. The sound stopped and you looked around, confused. You shrugged and decided to grab a drink from the fridge, determining the sound was from a neighbor. As you turned away from the fridge, the window to the fire escape caught your attention.

You gasped and almost dropped the glass of water you were holding. “Casper!!” you exclaimed and rushed to open the window. Your cat wasted no time jumping in and shaking off, the rain matting her poor fur. “Oh, baby, let me get a towel,” you cooed and she meowed in response. You grabbed a clean kitchen towel and sat down on the cool kitchen tile, grabbing Casper and rubbing her fur down. She meowed and squirmed, but you held tight, not wanting her to freeze.

You rubbed the fur around her neck and felt something hard. Confused, you removed the towel and separated the fur. You were worried it was an injury, but a piece of gold sat nestled in her fur. “Huh?” you said to yourself as you traced the gold chain to the front of her neck. At the end of the chain sat a rose gold heart embellished with the name “Alpine” in cursive on the front and a name that read "Property of J. Barnes” on the back. “The fuck? You went and got yourself another owner? Was I not feeding you enough?” you joked to the cat. Casper let out a chirp then went to her empty dry food dish right on cue. You shook your head in disbelief and got up to feed her, setting down a treat as well.

You watched her eat as you thought about what to do next. Once the happiness of having Casper back subsided, you felt angry. How dare someone find an obviously healthy cat and keep them! You grumbled to yourself and picked up Casper, who purred and snuggled into your shoulder. You checked the collar again, no address. You decided to bring Casper to the vet to see if she was microchipped, cursing yourself for not having the funds to do it a year ago yourself. That night, Casper curled up in her spot on the cat tree by the window in your bedroom like she never left.

The next morning, you loaded Casper into her carrier after taking off her collar. When you got to the clinic, the first shift vet techs were there. You usually deal with the techs on the second shift since you usually come in the evening and you were glad because the last time you met these women, they were rude about your missing cat, not wanting to help you.

You gave your best fake smile to the receptionist and you entered. She eyed you and the carrier in your hands as you walked up. “Hi, I was the one coming in about a missing cat for the past couple of weeks, but she showed up at my window last night. I was wanting to see if she was microchipped by anyone while she was gone.” The receptionist gave you an unimpressed look and turned to her computer, typing for a few seconds before responding. “Our first appointment today was cancelled, someone will come get you shortly.” She said in a bored tone and went back to playing on her phone. You nodded, though she didn’t pay you any more attention, and sat in the empty waiting room.

Another tech came to get you, thankfully her vibe was better than the receptionist’s. She took you back to a room and explained the process of finding the microchip. You explained your circumstance, bracing yourself to be called a bad pet owner for not getting her chipped before, but the tech was nice and didn’t belittle you. “I’m sure you learned your lesson, now,” she said, not unkindly. You watched as she scanned Casper.

“Ah, yes, she’s listed under James Barnes. Unfortunately, I can not give you the address on file, but I can give you their phone number. Due to policies, it is his cat. So, if he comes asking for her, we are forced to turn over your name and number. The cat is yours if you can prove it and you both come to an agreement for you to keep her. I’m sorry.” You were seething. The cat was yours! You took a deep breath before answering. “Thank you for your help, I’ll contact him.”

The tech wrote down his number and handed it to you. You left the room, the whispers coming from the front desk quieting as you walked by. “Maybe he took better care of the cat and that’s why it ran away.” You heard the receptionist whisper to a different tech, who snickered. You blinked back the tears that welled up and pushed through the front doors.

Casper howled to be let out of her cage when you got back to your apartment. You laid some food out for her (and a treat) and stared at the number on the paper. What do you say when you call? Do you plead for Casper, you have her baby pictures. Do you demand he give her back? What if you just didn’t call him? Could you be taken to jail over a cat? You shook your head, now your thoughts were just getting silly.

You dialed the number and took a deep breath before sending the call through. You listened to its ring before it was abruptly cut off. You looked at your phone in shock. How dare he not pick up. You looked at the time. Oh. It was only 10 am. Maybe he was at work or sleeping. You sighed and decided to call again later.

You did. No answer. You called the next morning. No answer. You called the next evening. No answer. You were growing frustrated. The next morning, your phone rang. The vet’s name flashing above the unknown number. Your heart sank as you picked up.

“Miss L/N, we have a client come by this morning reporting his cat missing. Based on the description and client name, we believe the cat is in your custody and with no communication from you, we must ask that you bring back Alpine.” You gasped. The nerve of that man to ignore your calls and voicemails then claim Casper! You composed yourself. “Ma’am, I have been trying to reach the client for days now. He is the one refusing communication!” You tried to explain. The phone went silent for a few seconds before the receptionist came back. “The representative for Mr. Barnes states that no contact has been made.”

“No shit-sorry- he won’t answer me. If he wants Casper, he’ll have to come get her.” The phone went silent again. “The representative will be over shor-” You cut her off. “No! Tell them I want Mr. Barnes here himself.” Who is this man and why does he have a representative? “You have my permission to give my address.” You hung up. Guilt consumed you. You hated to be so rude, but he was coming to take your cat!

You threw your phone on the couch and looked around the living room, thanking your past self for keeping it semi clean. You picked up what needed to be put away and waited anxiously. You didn’t know what time this Mr. Barnes would be by. He sounded old. He’ll probably break a hip coming up the stairs to your apartment. You laughed to yourself at the thought. Casper jumped on the couch behind your head where her blanket was kept. You didn’t move it when she was gone and you were glad now as she kneaded her paws into the soft material, loafing afterwards. You tickled her chin.

The doorbell ringing made you and Casper jump. Without thinking, you picked up the cat and ran her to the bedroom, throwing a loud “be right there” towards the door. You locked Casper in your bedroom, her unpleased meows wafted under the door. “Sorry baby, I'll be back.” You jogged back to the door, checking your appearance in the hall mirror, your heartbeat slamming against your ribcage. You took a breath to calm yourself then yanked open the door.

The man on the other side of the door wasn’t old by any means. You stopped breathing as you took in his bulky frame leaning against the door frame, one leg thrown over the other, like he owned the place. He stood up straight when you opened the door. You didn’t notice his own eyes bulging at the sight of you. His expression was schooled into a neutral one by the time your eyes met his. His dark button up was tucked into some dark very well fitting slacks and the sleeves rolled up to reveal dark tattoos swirling up his forearms. You met his eyes and blushed when you saw the icy blue orbs staring back at you, embarrassed you were caught checking him out.

“I heard you have something of mine, doll,” the smooth, deep Brooklyn accent brought you back to the present. And rekindled the spark of anger you had earlier. “Excuse me? You mean the cat you stole from me?” You snarked back, crossing your arms over your chest. The man’s eyes dipped to your chest so quickly you almost missed it. He cocked an eyebrow at you and tilted his head, studying you. A piece of his hair that escaped the bun at the back of his head fell forward and his bicep bludged as he reached up to push it back (not that you were watching, no, definitely not.).

“Yeah, I stole a cat that was hiding in the dumpster behind my office, scared and shaking in the rain.” You huffed and rolled your eyes. “She escaped! I burnt cookies and she escaped while the window was open,” your hands flapped around as you spoke, desperate for him to see your side. A smile tugged at his lips but he bit it back. Your voice died off as you watched his bottom lip be tugged between his (stupidly) perfect teeth. His eyes studied you again as he took a half step closer to you. You stepped back to keep the distance between the two of you but the doorframe at your back didn’t allow you to go far. His smirk widened as he stepped even closer. Your breath hitched as the scent of his musky cologne filled your senses. You struggled not to breathe it in deeply, not wanting to be creepy.

He was quickly toe to toe with you, his eye piercing through you. Your hands were sweaty and you brought them back up to your chest. Due to his proximity to you, the action caused the back of your hands to slide against the silk of his shirt and the hard plane of his abs. A noise escaped the back of your throat before you could stop it and your face was on fire again. You looked away from his intense glare, but a ringed hand reached up and gently grasped your chin, tilting your eyes up to meet with his. He leaned, his breath fanning over your cheek as he progressed towards your ears. Your heart was pounding, you were sure he could tell. Your breath was thin, not wanting to miss anything he was doing and not wanting his cologne to cloud your mind anymore than it was. His lips traced your ear, a shiver racing down your spine as he took a breath to speak.

“Looks like you need to learn how to bake better, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he stepped back, the cool air of the apartment hallway taking away the warmth from his body. You could only stare dumbly at him, lips opening and closing as you fought to say something. You watched him laugh, full on laugh at your face and lean against the wall (again, like he owned the building- you found out later that he did own the building). “You-you ass!” You said, just holding yourself back from stomping your foot like a stubborn child. He laughed again, but it was cut off by meow from your closed bedroom door.

He looked into your apartment. “You locked my cat in your room?” he asked, a flicker of something — amusement, maybe — ghosted across his face. “No, I locked MY cat in my bedroom,” your eyes narrowing into slits as you responded, daring him to go get her. He chuckled again. “Here, prove to me it is your cat.” “Happiliy”

You dug your phone out of your pocket, pulling up one of the first pictures you took of Casper, then showing him Casper’s first birthday photo. He raised an eyebrow at the photo of Casper all dressed up in a pink dress in front of the “Happy Gotcha Day, Casper” banner. “Casper? You named the cat after the ghost?” You hummed and stepped back, “you named her after a glacier,” you gutted back. He let out a little laugh at the rebuttal. “I guess so… can I just see her? She’s yours, I wasn’t coming to take her back, I just wanted to see her taken care of.”

Your heart warmed at that and invited him in before really realizing you were letting an unknown (very handsome) man into your apartment. You shut the front door before letting Casper out of the bedroom, instructing the man to sit wherever. She shot out, letting out a loud mroow, before jumping onto the couch. She was a little spooked by the man sitting there, not expecting him. You watched her closer, making sure she wasn’t scared of him. If he had hurt her, he wouldn’t be coming out of this apartment unharmed. You looked at his muscles, yea. You could get a scratch or two in before he overtook you.

“Hi there, Alpine, you miss me?” his voice brought you out of your thoughts. You watched as Casper sniffed his fingers then headbutted them, purring loud enough for you to hear. Your heart skipped a beat at the smile on the dark haired man’s face. Something about him told you that he didn’t let that show very often. You watched as Casper rolled over, letting the man see her belly. For a few minutes, the room was silent, just Casper’s purr being heard. A ping of a phone broke the silence and the man grumbled as he pulled it out. He sighed while reading the message and put it away. Something about his vibe changed after that. Something was wrong. He suddenly looked tired. He ran his fingers across his face and through his hair before standing.

“Thank you for letting me see her. Look, I don’t know if I could let her go,” you went to complain, but he held a hand up to cut you off, “not like that. I would just like to see her, and you, again,” you were stunned at his words. He flipped open his wallet and took out a sleek black card. “Call or text me when you have some time? I’d like to take you out for dinner,” he had a boyish smile on his face though it didn’t reach his eyes this time. You studied him as you took the card. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as you took the card from him. He left after that, leaving Alpine-Casper with a pat to the head, seeing himself out the door.

You flipped the card around as the front door closed. James B. Barnes, C.E.O Barnes-Rogers Inc. XXX-XXX-XXXX. The number wasn’t the same as the one you had from the vet’s office. No wonder he didn’t answer. You were debating sending him a text so he would have your own number, “but would that be too eager, Casper?” you asked your cat only to receive a chirp in response. You sighed. You replenished her food bowl and retreated to your shower, the one that barely works but did have hot water, and got ready for bed early. As you watched a few Youtube videos, your mind kept wondering about the handsome man with the dark aura. Your google search on the company returned nothing besides a basic webpage, no more information on James or whoever Rogers was. Your dreams for that night were plagued with the cat loving man.

#marissa writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #mob boss bucky barnes #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss james barnes #mob boss bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes meet cute

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deanmonwh000 · 1 day ago

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stargazing

pairing: dean winchchester x huntress!reader

word count: 762

tags: fluff, pre-established relationship (friendship), dean being soft and in love, no use of y/n

an: english is not my first language and this is me writing for the first time in ages!!

when they first kissed, it was on impala's good under a sky of shooting stars. it was late, and it was cold, and astrea had dean's jacket wrapped over her shoulders, one of those long skirts she'd wear whenever she wasn't on a hunt was blowing in the wind and dean made a joke the shadow looked kinda like a cape. she leaned up on her elbow to see, and that was when he leaned over. half of his body hovered over her, his hand cupped her cheek and he just went for it. he didn't wait, didn't look into her eyes to check if that was cool - which was a terrible idea, as he later figured out - but it was. she didn't expect his lips to be as soft as they were. sure, she knew they were nice and full and very, very kissable, but she always imagined them to be as dry as his humor was.

for a moment, she just revelled in the feeling of it, of his lips on hers, unsure and unmoving as he waited for her reaction - whether she'd kiss back or push him off and kick his ass. and then, she kissed back, her body relaxing. she leaned back down on the hood and pulled him with, cupping his face with both of her hands. everything felt surreal to her, and later on, she wouldn't remember much detail. like how she thought it was weird how small her hands seemed compared to his head, or how the smell of him was intoxicating, so much more than it was ever again, as if she tried a new drug for the first time. and dean? dean wouldn't remember anything. he would only remember the overwhelming relief that flooded his body when she didn't decide to kick his ass right there. he would only remember how soft she felt all over, which was weird, considering how much muscle that woman had on her.

that was one of the things that lured him in her. the pure physical strength she had, the muscle she acquired over years and years of hunting. and how she still looked so feminine, somehow. how she still bothered to do her makeup to go kill monsters, not because she felt the need to impress someone, but because that's how she liked to be. that unapologetic way that she carries herself in. the way she would switch between red wine and his shitty whiskey, and the way she knew as much about her godforsaken mustang as he knew about baby.

when he pulled back, neither of them spoke for a long while. they looked at each other like it was the first time, and to dean it was like he discovered something he didn't ever hear about. he knew he was falling for her, for months. and he knew she felt the same way, because, well, she wasn't the best at hiding it. but that moment was reverent. it was holy.

“there's a shooting star right next to your face,” she whispered, her eyes flicking sideways for a split second, catching the view. he didn't bother to turn around. starts couldn't compare to her, he thought, and it made him feel sick that someone made him think that. he was supposed to be a rugged hunter, not fall in love with pretty girls and think the most cliche thoughts that could ever exist. but it was the truth. the whole stargazing ordeal was a stunt to get her to lay on the impala and catch her off guard - not very mature, but very dean. and it worked like a charm.

“i should've expected that, i guess,” she whispered after a moment, when he didn't respond, didn't say anything still. her hands were still cupping his face and he couldn't focus on anything but that touch. her hand were soft, too. of course they were, with the amount of hand cream she used. she kept bottles of it everywhere, in her bags, in her jackets, in his car.

“what?” he asked, his voice rough, as if he was holding it back for ages. “why?”

“oh, please.” she laughed and made herself more comfortable on the hood, letting him go as he moved to lay down next to her. her hand found his and she touched it, carefully, as if not to scare him away. the moment of weakness ended for him, and it was back to his usual rough self, she could tell. “you're not very subtle, you know? and stargazing? that's so cliche.”

“it worked.”

#dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural one shot #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction

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vodika-vibes · 3 days ago

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Cotton Candy Lipstick

Summary: The first year of the war, Monnk meets a woman at 79s and spends the night with her on his lap and kissing her breathless. Four years later, with the war over and with a shiny new set of rights under his belt, Monnk is haunted by the memory of her lips.

Pairing: Commander Monnk x F!Reader

Word Count: 1193

Warnings: Spicy implications at the end

A/N: I was in a Monnk mood and decided to do something about it. Thus, this story was born. Sorry if it's not the greatest. I'm very tired.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

In Monnk’s personal opinion, he’s the most pathetic man to ever exist.

For one, very simple, reason.

It’s because four years ago, he met a young woman at 79s, and he’s been stuck on her ever since. Every time he closes his eyes, her face swims into view. And when he’s dreaming at night he can hear her voice and feel her lips against his.

It’s, frankly, embarrassing.

He doesn’t even know her name.

And it’s been four years, and he never saw her again after that first meeting.

And yet, here he is. Retired from military work, yet still living on Coruscant just in case he runs into her at the store or at the park or something.

She tasted like cotton candy. Her kisses sugary sweet in a way that Monnk became addicted to over the course of a single night. If he had been a smarter man at the time, he would have gotten her name or number.

But he had been a dumbass kid, basically, and let his angel slip through his fingers.

At this point, his brothers are starting to give him a hard time about it, calling him pathetic for being stuck on someone who might not even exist. And when Monnk started pushing back, they decided the best way to handle the situation is to set him up on a series of, increasingly bad, blind dates.

Honestly, Monnk isn’t sure why he still goes on these dates. Other than he doesn’t want to deal with his brothers’ nagging him about standing up his date.

Which brings him to now.

He’s dressed casually, a button down shirt and some nice-ish trousers, as he sits at a table in a restaurant that he doesn’t really like, waiting to meet a date he’s pretty sure he’s going to hate.

The last three dates he’s been on have hated his hair—she said that men shouldn’t dye their hair blue or wear it long—and one said that if she was going to date him, he would have to get his tattoo removed, which is never going to happen.

He shifts in the chair and rests his chin on the palm of his hand with a sigh. Maybe if he just leaves, he can tell his brothers that he got stood up and they’ll stop with this ridiculous blind date thing.

Monnk is pulled from his thoughts when someone drops into the chair across from him, and he flickers his gaze across her face. She’s pretty, her hair pulled into a braid down her back, and her lips are painted in the same shade of pink that you see on bubblegum.

She’s not really looking at him, though. She’s messing with her purse, and talking in his direction. Something about work being a hassle and that this isn’t really her thing, but her friends insisted.

And then she looks at him, and Monnk is able to get a good look at her face, and he straightens in his seat. He’d recognize her face anywhere. Stars know he’s dreamed of it enough times.

“Oh! It’s you!” She sounds pleased when she looks at him, and a bright smile crosses her pink lips.

“Monnk,” He offers her his hand, which she takes as she offers her own name, “Maybe now we’ll be able to talk more than once every four years.” He offers with a small grin.

“Hopefully!” She doesn’t seem to want to pull her hand away from his, her soft fingers gliding against his wrist, “I went back to 79s the next night, looking for you.” she admits, sounding almost sheepish.

“I got deployed that morning,” Monnk explains, “And I was gone for six months.”

“Well, that’s alright. Because we’re here now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His grin widens, “So, do you still wear that cotton candy lipstick?”

A bubbly laugh falls from her, and then she shifts her chair so she’s able to press her knee against his, “It is my favorite.”

“It’s my favorite too.” He turns in his chair, just enough that he’s facing her, and he brushes his fingers against the corner of her lips, “Is that what you’re wearing today?”

She shakes her head with a teasing grin, “I decided to wear something new today.”

“Flavored lipstick?”

“Of course.”

Monnk taps his thumb against her lower lip, “What flavor?”

Her grin widens, “Why don’t you tell me?”

His gaze flickers to her lips, and then he leans back, “You know, I haven’t ordered anything yet. You want to get out of here?”

She tilts her head, almost coyly, “Aren’t you hungry, Monnk?”

“Starved,” He replies immediately, “but there’s nothing here that will hit the spot.”

She averts her gaze for a moment, but then locks her gaze with his again, “Well, in that case, we should definitely leave.”

It takes less than five minutes for Monnk to get up, for him to help her up, to guide her out of the restaurant, and to tug her into an alley not far from the restaurant so he can crash his lips against hers.

She tastes like strawberries, and she’s so soft as she presses against his body, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. It’s the kiss, and the body, he’s been dreaming about for years.

So, really, it’s not his fault when he pulls back so he’s able to trail his lips down her jaw to her throat. And it’s not his fault when he lightly nips on the soft skin of her neck.

And when she whimpers, and tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls on it, Monnk starts to plan his wedding with her.

Her soft fingers trail through his hair, and she breathes out his name like it’s a prayer, and Monnk has to remind himself to check his grip so he doesn’t hurt her. But his gaze meets hers, and there’s something soft and hot in her gaze, and he can’t help but grip her hips even tighter.

Her eyes flutter slightly, “Monnk,” she murmurs, “You should walk me home.”

It’s an innocent comment.

“Will you let me stay?” Monnk asks, he doesn’t want innocent.

Her fingers glide against his jaw, “Until you get tired of me.”

“So, never then?”

And she grins at him so brightly that her eyes crinkle at the corners.

The following morning, Monnk wakes up with his legs tangled in hers and his arms tight around her waist. He’s deliciously sore from the scratch marks on his back and the hickies covering his body.

His comm is chiming with multiple incoming messages, so he grabs his comm to check his messages, all while tracing the marks he left on her body with a careful finger.

She groans and buries her face in his chest as he opens the many messages from Cody, and then Monnk releases a laugh. She whines and pulls back to squint at him, “Monnk?”

“Looks like you weren’t my blind date last night, princess.”

She blinks slowly, her sleepy brain struggling to comprehend, “That’s okay. This is better.”

“Oh,” Monnk leans in and steals a heated kiss, “I absolutely agree.”

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#star wars #tcw #commander monnk x reader #monnk x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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rekino2114 · 8 hours ago

Note

I’ve been wanting to ask this for a bit but would you write for Falling Devil? If so, can you do simple headcanons or a scenario like cooking with her?

Falling devil relationship headcanons

A/n:ngl I've kinda been waiting for someone to request something for falling devil cause she might be my hear me out. Also how do you guys feel about y/n not calling her falling and instead rakka as a nickname cause her Japanese name is rakka no akuma and for some reason I like that better as a name than falling. I dunno why death works as a name for me and falling doesn't maybe cause it's a verb but Idk let me know if you'd like that

Let's get the obvious out of the way, she cooks for you, you are literally never eating anything that she didn't cook or approve of ever again

She hates fast food (despite how much death loves it ironically) calling it "awful organ rotting human garbage" and will forbid you from eating it cause she doesn't want it to "ruin your body" in any way plus the food she makes is way better so why would you ever need to go eat out? If you ask nicely enough she might let you go once a month though

She makes sure all of the food she makes is healthy and nutritious and good for you but also that you like her meals. She memorized all of your likes and dislikes in foods as well as any potential allergies you might have so she serves you only dishes she knows you'll enjoy. She complains when you don't try new food or don't finish what she makes, but she'll mostly let it slide since she loves you

Also, to clarify all of the food she cooks for you is 100% human free, she'd never feed you something you don't like eating, and that includes not making you commit cannibalism. Ever since death decided that she would not eat humans to respect her boyfriend (could that be considered the devil version of a vegetarian?) Falling doesn't really have any more reason to kill humans and she can just as easily cook delicious human meals as well so everything resolved itself nicely

She can speak french and likes to call you french pet names like "mon cher" and "mon amour" you have no idea how she even knows french considering she spent almost the entirety of her existence in hell but her accent is attractive and the nicknames are cute so you don't question it

She gives some pretty amazing cuddles, not only is she insanely tall so she's a great big spoon letting you use her basically as a bed and her chest as a pillow she also has six arms so she can wrap all of them around you (except the ones that are holding her head in place) or just use two to cuddle while she's playing with your hair with one and feeding you with the other one

Sometimes she likes playing pranks on you by using her powers, she'll make you float and then catch you when you fall carrying you bridal style, she'll only do that when she knows you'll be 100% safe of course

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byeoltoyuki · 12 hours ago

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LET THE WORLD BURN

↳ Pairing: Felix x reader

❧ Genre: enemies to lovers (kind of), friends to lovers, fluff, smut, a tiny tiny bit of angst, witch reader, demon felix

❧ Words: +19k

❧ Warnings: captivity , mention of injuries, blood, oral (f, m), unprotected sex, clit slapping

❧Summary : They told you he was evil, that he deserved his fate. You disagreed. He became your friend, your confident and you made him a promise that one day you'll find a way to set him free. You just didn't expect to fall in love along the way.

❧ A/N: It's finally doooone. It took me months to write and the result could have been better. Hopefully you'll enjoy our sweet Felix ♥

☆☆☆☆☆

6 years old,

Whoever thought that telling a kid not to do something was a good idea, was an idiot. (In this case, your aunt, Lauren, was the idiot.)

Even more so when the kid in question lived among witches. Even more when the said kid was surrounded by so many curious creatures. Even more so when the said kid loved magic and couldn’t resist its call.

“Under no circumstances, you’re allowed to go to the basement. Do you understand, Y/N?” She had told you, arms crossed over her chest, scowling as you stared at her with your big, innocent eyes.

Out of habits, you nodded, but a tiny voice whispered, ‘let’s visit it later.’

You were six and a very curious kid. Did they really expect you to obey? Did they expect you to stay in your room and ignore all the commotion downstairs? Did they really expect you to ignore all the whispers and the heavy scent of magic? Foreign and strange magic. Whatever was going on in the basement, it made you both nervous and excited.

You waited in your room, your ear glued to the door, trying to listen to the noises, waiting for the right moment for you to leave your room and explore. You knew if you got caught you would be in trouble. But did it really stop you? Absolutely not.

“Is it really safe?” You heard a familiar voice in the hall.

“Of course, it is.” Your aunt snapped and you could easily imagine her face turning red from anger. She hated when other witches doubted their power. “We used the best and strongest spells to trap him in the basement. He will never see the light until we decide so.”

You pricked up your ears at the mention of him. Whoever he was, your aunt Lauren definitely hated him. But then again, your aunt didn’t like many people. She didn’t even like you; blood or not blood, you were a nuisance she would gladly get rid of.

“And how long,” The other witch tried again, her voice getting shaky, obviously nervous around your aunt. “are we keeping him?”

“It’s none of your business.”

And with that the conversation was over.

You waited for some more minutes, still listening, making sure everybody had left or hopefully went to sleep so you could sneak out of your room and look for whoever was the he.

You stepped out of your room and darkness welcomed you in the hall. It didn’t matter. It didn’t scare you. You knew every creak in the wooden floors, every corner, every secret passage of this house like the back of your hand. Grinning, you hurried to go downstairs only stopping to check for any noise.

You pushed the door leading to the basement, glanced over your shoulder one last time and then closed the door behind you, letting another kind of darkness to engulf you.

You went down. And down. And down.

Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. Magic was in the air; you could taste it on your tongue. You could almost touch it. It was like nothing you had ever felt. It was old and dark and ominous. The kind of magic that made the hair on your arms stand and made your senses recoil in disgust. You didn’t like it and even at six years old, you understood it wasn’t something good.

As you reached the basement, darkness vanished, replaced with hundreds of lit candles spread all around the place. Some in circles, some scattered across the room. And there, right in the middle of the room, right in the middle of a circle, someone was lying on the ground, next to a bed. You slammed your hand over your mouth to stop the gasp that was dying to escape your lips.

But he heard.

You didn’t know how, but he did. He stood up, eyes burning bright, ready to pounce, snarling at your presence. You yelped in response, your body moving on its own, taking few steps back, stumbling.

The wise thing to do was to turn around and run back to the safety of your room and never return. But there was just something. A pull you couldn’t ignore even if you tried. You willed your heart to calm down. You willed your body to obey and take a step toward the young man. You could totally do it.

“Who are you?” You asked, tilting your head as you tried to see more of him.

He completely ignored your question and instead growled louder, sounding more threatening with every passing seconds. But you refused to cower. You were young but afraid you were not. You took another step, and then another – he snapped. He pounced so fast and yet he never reached you. He was shoved back on the ground by invisible hands.

Grunting, he tried to resist and to get up but more he tried and worse it got. You cried out at the sight of blood pooling around him.

“Stop it.” You whispered, horrified. You didn’t know whether you were asking the magical barrier to stop hurting him or if you were asking him to stop resisting.

But he didn’t listen. He refused his fate. He was a fighter, so he fought with everything he had. Over and over again.

You stared at him, feeling hopeless and sad. “Stop it! It’s hurting you!”

But he refused to listen to you. You were torn between wanting to get close to him, knowing it was dangerous, and running away in hope he would stop his attempt at getting out. But before you could decide what to do, he stopped and fell on his knees. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him anxiously. He was panting hard, fist clenched. And all the blood. You shivered at the sight.

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest at the sight, at the sound he made, at his pain. You couldn’t explain why it affected you so much but you desperately wanted to do something for him. Anything to sooth his pain.

“Let me help you.” You found yourself saying, finding your courage. Not that you knew how to help him. Not yet.

He growled in response, not looking at you.

What can I do? You were too young to use magic and even if you could, you weren’t sure he would let you come close enough without trying to attack you. Even if he looked exhausted. But maybe you could bring something to help him.

“I’ll be back.” You promised, realizing that he probably didn’t care whether you came back or not.

☆☆☆☆☆

As a six years old kid, you barely knew what a wounded man needed to feel better, but you were resourceful. You stopped to think about all the time you got hurt and how adults helped. You obviously couldn’t use magic to heal him yourself and you weren’t sure he would let you approach him anyway, but you had something stocked in your room for emergencies: magical compress. You gathered all the compresses you had along with snacks and a bottle of water, hoping it could help.

You returned to the basement more determined than ever.

The moment your eyes landed on the young man, you halted, forgetting for a second how to breath. Now that he was no longer fighting, the candles illuminated his face. The man before you was beautiful; angelic face, even with blood in the corner of his mouth, even with his eyes expressing his fury. You imagined easily that he would look like a perfect prince charming without all the blood and angry vibes.

“I’m back.” You managed to say and resumed walking steadily towards him, trying not to wince at all the blood around him.

He sat still on the floor but at least he wasn’t snarling at you anymore – you took it as a small victory. Maybe, he had come to realization that you were just a kid and meant no harm or maybe, he was simply too tired and hurt.

He watched you in silence, letting you approach the circle that had him trapped in this place. You wondered if he contemplated the idea of attacking you again, but you refused this thought to stop you from doing what you came for.

“I brought you this.” You showed him the small bag. “I-I’m too young to use magic but I have some useful-“ you hesitated on the word. “Things? Supplies?” You put the bag on the floor and pushed it towards him, making sure not to step into the perfectly drawn circle.

He slowly averted his eyes from your face to the bag, eying it suspiciously.

“The compresses are magical; they will help you to heal and then will dissolve so…My family won’t find out I helped you.” You explained, your voice barely a whisper.

“Aren’t you scared?” He asked, his voice so deep, you shivered.

Well, you were a little worried about your grandmother finding out about your little visit here but you knew you were doing the right thing. “Of?”

“Me?”

“No?” You tilted your head. Obviously, you should be. Whatever he did to upset your coven, he was now a prisoner and you should probably be more wary of him. But you just couldn’t. More you looked at him and more it seemed wrong to keep him locked. More you wanted to be his friend and not enemy. “Should I?”

He watched you for a moment, trying to detect any lies in your voice, trying to find any trace of fear in your body language. And found none. “Maybe I’m as bad as they think. Maybe I’ll catch you and hurt you.”

Maybe. But it was still not enough to scare you. “I’m scared of bugs.”

He blinked in confusion at your words.

“And scared of auntie Lauren’s food. It’s bad. So bad, I think I might die.”

He opened his mouth and closed it, completely taken off guard.

“I’m scared to be alone.” You admitted more quieter this time and wasn’t it your biggest fear? Despite being just a kid, you didn’t feel at your place. You didn’t feel like you belonged to this place. To this family.

You shook your head, refusing your fears to dampen your mood. You smiled at him, standing at the limits of the circle. “But I’m not scared of you. I think they’re wrong about you.” And just to prove to both yourself and him (and it was probably the dumbest thing you had ever done) you stepped inside the circle and outstretched your hand towards him. “I’m Y/N.”

He stared at you and then at your hand, completely dumbfounded. Here was a tiny little witch, fearless, smiling. He could so easily hurt you, or worse, just to have his revenge. But he couldn’t do it. Not when you smiled so hopeful at him. He chuckled to himself, resigned and took your hand. “I’m Felix.”

☆☆☆☆☆

7 years old,

There were many reasons that made you visit Felix almost every night. He was nice, charming, gentle, and patient, and looked like a prince. Even at seven years old you couldn’t help but think that one day you would like to fall in love with someone like him. But what you probably loved even more about him was the stories he would share with you. About his life, about the world outside waiting for you to explore. About the magic and different creatures living among you. You were a curious little thing, and you couldn’t help but ask for more.

But being a kid also meant that one day or another you would get caught. It was a miracle nobody had noticed you sneaking around for one whole year. Or maybe they did and didn’t mind – you doubted that.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Your aunt’s Lauren harsh voice echoed from behind you as you were about to push the door leading to the basement.

You froze right on the spot, a deer caught in the headlights. Very slowly you turned around to face your aunt’s wrath. She had her hands on her hips, a deep scowl on her face. Yeah, she wasn’t very happy with you. You gulped and tried to come up with an explanation. But really, what could you say in your defense?

She caught your arm and squeezed it too tightly, making you wince at the sting. You glanced at your arm and could already see your skin reddening. It was going to bruise later. “You’re coming with me.”

You could protest, you could cry, you could beg but it wouldn’t change the outcome. Your aunt dragged you, cursing under her breath. You knew where she was heading, and you dreaded the moment you would face your grandmother. She loved you; she was your only family left, but sometimes she made you feel bad about you. About how different you were from other witchlings. But above all, you hated disappointing her. You hated the look she would give you whether you did something bad or unworthy of you and your coven.

Aunt Lauren opened the door to your grandmother’s study and pushed you inside. You stumbled inside almost falling and making acquittance with the floor. You glared at your aunt, scowling, trying to look annoyed but she only scoffed and closed the door behind her as she followed you inside.

“You were right. She tried to get to the basement.” Aunt Lauren announced to your grandmother. You felt her eyes on your back. A hard and disapproving gaze, you bet.

Your grandmother, on the other hand, let out a long and tired sigh. She closed her grimoire and then slowly raised her head to look at you. You flinched as you dared to meet her eyes and you regretted it instantly.

That look was what you were afraid of. She looked sad and disappointed and a little bit upset. You squirmed under her gaze, wishing for the floor to open and swallow you whole. You didn’t want to face her. You didn’t want to have this conversation with her because you wouldn’t be able to understand her hatred. Because you didn’t want her to say bad things about Felix. And because she would see your feelings written all over your face. And your feelings would get you in even more trouble, you just knew it.

Your grandmother moved from her chair and slowly approached you. Without even looking at aunt Lauren, she dismissed her with a flick of her hand.

You averted your eyes, finding the floor suddenly more interesting, and waited for her harsh words. You could feel her eyes on you but for a moment she said nothing which made you only more nervous.

“My sweet child. Do you know what you did wrong?” She asked, calmly, composed.

‘No’ you wanted to say, because in your eyes you did nothing wrong but that would get you into even more trouble - you nodded your head.

She sighed and took few slow steps towards you. “I am not angry with you, Y/N. Just disappointed.”

“I’m sorry.” You tried to sound sincere. You wanted her to believe you, because deep inside you were far from being sorry.

“Y/N. You are my precious grand-daughter and my only heir. You can’t do something so reckless and so foolish. This demon has many reasons to hurt you.” She explained.

No, he doesn’t. But I bet he wants to hurt you. You didn’t like to think about what Felix could do to your family if he was released but you hated seeing him hurt just as much.

“He’s a vicious demon.”

No, he’s not. And that was a truth you believed in with your whole heart.

“You’re still young; he could have used you. Corrupt you.”

He had a whole year to use me. And he never did.

“Stay away from the basement.”

You wouldn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. “Yes, grandmother.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Going to the basement in the middle of the night for the upcoming week became impossible. Despite your promise not to visit him any longer, your grandmother still took some additional measures to make sure you would keep your promise. Every time you sneaked out to check if you could visit Felix, you found a witch stationed by the door. It upset you, but you expected it. Did it deter you? No. You just had to be a little more creative and patient. They expected you to go in the middle of the night. But did they expect you to go before dawn? Certainly not.

You waited a whole week, making sure nobody was watching you and then you acted.

The moment you stepped in the familiar warm room, a big smile spread on your face. “Felix!”

You didn’t think twice; you ran and jumped right into his arms. He easily caught you and laughed at your warm hug. He squeezed you tightly in his arms, welcoming your warmth and genuine happiness at seeing him.

“You’re back.” He whispered, relieved.

You pulled back and frowned. “Of course, I’m back!”

10 years old,

The day your magic emerged was supposed to be one of the best days of your life. You could finally use magic, be tested to check your level and finally start learning how to use your powers. Except, it ended up to be the worst day of your life.

Who could have predicted that the granddaughter would be such a disappointment? Who would have thought that the bloodline would fail so spectacularly? Not only you had always been different from the others, whether in your behavior or your thinking, but now turned out you were also the weakest witch in the coven and that was the biggest disappointment.

You couldn’t care less that your magic wasn’t as impressive as your grandmother’s, you were happy with what you got. But this day became the worst day of your life because it showed people’s true colors. Nobody truly cared for you. No, they cared for what you were supposed to become, for the power you were supposed to have. Now? Now, you were just a weak witch and no longer a suitable heir.

But what hurt you the most was the look in your grandmother’s eyes. You thought she loved you, cared for you. She disregarded you so quickly, like you were a nobody and not his blood. His family.

“What happened?” Felix hurried to ask the moment he saw your red eyes.

Would he too be disappointed? Would he too show his true colors if you told him the truth?

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms and tell him everything, but you held back. You were scared of what he, too, would think once he found out the truth about your weakness. You stepped into the circle, your fists clenched tightly. “They tested my magic today. Turns out, I’m the weakest witch in the story of my family. What a disappointment.” You couldn’t hide your bitterness.

“Oh Y/N.” He took a step towards you but you took a step back, unable to stop yourself. He stopped right away. You never tried to avoid him. To avoid his eyes.

“I guess they all expected me to be great like my grandmother. I was special. And now suddenly I’m a nobody. Even my grandmother rejected me. And for what?” You plopped down on the ground, feeling suddenly incredibly tired.

Felix joined you on the floor and took your hands gently. “You are special.” That made you raise your head, in surprise but also ready to protest. Your words died on your tongue as you saw the look in his eyes. Felix was worried but also truly upset on your behalf. “Powerful or not, it doesn’t change who you are, Y/N.” Seeing that you were no longer avoiding him, he moved a little closer. “You’re a bright and lovely young lady. You have a big heart. Don’t let them dim your light.”

And they dared to say he was evil. You truly couldn’t understand them.

Felix’s words warmed your heart and soothed your pain. You squeezed his hands back, thanking him silently.

Maybe you were indeed a weak witch. But your powers had finally awoken and there was still one thing you could do. “I’ll find a way to free you.”

☆☆☆☆☆

12 years old,

A tiny part of you knew visiting Felix while being in this state was a really bad idea. Even at twelve, you understood how perceptive Felix was. You could hide your feelings as much as you wanted, he still knew how you felt. You could hide your wounds, anything really, and he still knew. It was both impressive and annoying.

But tonight, you were sad and disappointed with yourself. Staying in your room and tending to the different cuts on your arms and hands, would only lead to you crying in your bed for being so useless.

The witches in your coven mocked you, told you how weak you were. You refused to let their words affect you but tonight, after another failure, it was hard not to think about their words. You didn’t want to be strong. You didn’t need your magic to be strong for your well-being. But you needed it in order to free Felix. You hated seeing him caged every night. You hated what they said about him. Lies.

So, you found books that could help you to strengthen your magic and practiced every night. Many nights. Hours and hours. Many times, falling asleep on the floor from exhaustion. But you were not good enough. And tonight, it had backfired. You didn’t expect the spell to hurt you, but it did. As if it sensed you were weak. As if it had sensed you had no business practicing magic.

With a long sigh you pushed the door to the basement. Almost like every time you visited, Felix was sitting on his bed, reading one of the books you had brought him. The moment you saw his face; your mood brightened a little. It was amazing, really, how easily he could sooth your heart and bring out a smile on your face.

“Hi!” You tried to sound cheerful.

Felix closed his book and smiled as he looked at you. He quirked his brow at you, a little taken aback that instead of running to him like you would usually do, you kept your distance, avoiding his eyes. He sniffed and in a blink of an eye he was out of his bed, frowning at you.

“Come here.” He ordered, his voice soft but commanding.

I knew, it would happen. You hesitated. But what could you possibly tell him without confirming him that there was indeed something wrong with you?

“Y/N.” He insisted and outstretched his hand. “Come here.”

You didn’t want to sound like an ungrateful brat by not obeying, but you had a feeling you were about to get scolded. “I-“

“Y/N. I promise not to get mad.” He knew.

Not that you had ever seen him mad. Slowly, you approached him, pouting and mumbling to yourself. You stopped in front of him but still refused to look at him.

Unfazed, Felix gently grabbed your hand and pulled it toward him. You winced and tried to pull back – he didn’t let go. Felix pushed your sleeve and exposed the cuts on your arm. “Y/N…” Felix could easily guess why you were hurt. It was either you got bullied again or you tried another spell.

With a little more strength than you intended, you tore your hand from his grip and quickly covered your arm. “It’s not that bad.” You assured him and dared to have a glance at his face. You regretted it instantly. Both pity and sadness were written all over his face. “I promise, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“You winced when I took your hand.” He reminded you. “What happened? You know you can tell me everything.”

You knew you could. And weren’t you down here with him because you needed his reassurance? He couldn’t really help you if you were too scared to tell him the truth. You averted your eyes from his face and kicked the dirt on the floor. “I was practicing again and the spell backfired.”

Felix took a deep breath and clenched his fists behind his back. “You need to stop.”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words. “I can’t do that!” There was no way you would stop, not until he was free from this damn cage. Even if it meant you would never see him again.

“Yes, you can.” He insisted too calmly for your liking while you were both ready to burst into tears and explode in anger.

“I can’t, Felix! You’ve been trapped in this place for six years! Six years! You know how I feel about this. Do not ask me to stop when I’m the only one who can free you. You know they won’t do it. And I don’t know how long they’re planning to keep you here. What if one day they hurt you? What if they decide you to kill you?” You couldn’t hold back your tears at the thought of your family hurting him more than they already did. You couldn’t imagine a life where Felix would no longer exist.

“Y/N.” Felix said this time more softly. He grabbed your hands and squeezed gently. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I do. But one day the cost will be too much.”

“No.” You protested stubbornly.

“Yes, it will. And I can’t let that happen. I don’t want to see your hurt either. So please, promise me you’ll stop.” Felix pulled you in his arms, squeezing you tightly. “Promise me.”

You sobbed harder in his arms. You didn’t want to promise him. “If I don’t try, who will?”

☆☆☆☆☆

18 years old,

You stared at the two slices of cake with a smile plastered on your face. It was a beautiful day.

Not really.

The weather outside was awful. It was raining and the wind was howling so loud you couldn’t stand it for more than five minutes.

But it didn’t deter you from wanting to celebrate your big day. It could rain, it could snow but it didn’t change the fact that you were finally done with high school. You were finally done dealing with annoying people (which were half composed of witches who loved to piss you off). It was the end of a very long and tiresome chapter and the beginning of a new one. One, you promised to yourself to make it count. One, you promised would lead to happiness no matter what.

Because of that, you bought a cake and wanted to share it with Felix. And no-one else. After years of friendship, he was the only one that mattered. The only one who cared. Sometimes, late at night, when you thought about Felix, you wondered how you could have possibly survived without him. He was your friend, your moral support. He showed you that being weak wasn’t the end of the world, far from it. He showed you that you were amazing, that you were worth someone’s time. His time.

“Honey, I’m back!” You sang happily as you pushed the door to the basement.

Felix sat, crossed legs, on his bed in the middle of the circle, like always, looking concentrated on whatever he was reading. At the sound of your voice, he slowly averted his eyes from his book to you – a bright and warm smile spread on his face and you almost melted on the spot. It shouldn’t be legal to look so damn good. His smile was one that could comfort the most tormented soul.

“Look at you.” Felix coed and jumped out of bed, getting as close as he was allowed. “I can taste your happiness.”

You laughed. He was right, you were happy. Happy to be finally free. Well, almost free. At least during the day. “I brought cake for us to celebrate.”

Felix’s eyes shone brightly with delight. Unfortunately for him, your grandmother and most of witches who lived under this roof, barely fed him. They didn’t care if he starved, in fact, you were convinced it was exactly their goal.

Fortunately for him, you did your best to bring him food every night. It used to be just some leftovers – it was barely enough to feed a young man. But for his sake, you learnt to cook. You wanted to make sure he could get enough food. It was obviously a disaster at first, but Felix never complained. He was grateful for your efforts and it only encouraged you to do better. And you did.

“Here.” You gave him his slice of cake.

The two of you sat on the floor. You took the first bite of your cake and moaned in delight. Life was good. At least for now. Felix did the same and closed his eyes, savoring the taste in his mouth. How long had it been since the last time you brought him cake? Too long.

“Thank you for the cake.” Felix gently bumped his knee with yours. “Are you going to move out?”

“No.” You admitted. Of course, you wanted to leave this place and never to look back. This place held your worst memories and nightmares. But how could you leave Felix behind? You simply couldn’t. You wanted to stay and make sure that nothing worse happened to him. You wanted to make sure that your grandmother wouldn’t try to kill him. It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?

Felix stared at you as if he could read your mind. He put his plate on the floor and leaned closer. “Are you staying behind because of me? It’s your chance to start over and forget about years of suffering.”

His gaze was so intense, so sincere, you couldn’t hold it. You averted your eyes and bit on your lips. “I can’t leave you behind.”

“What if I ask you to leave?”

Your mind turned blank for a moment. Did Felix want you to leave? Did he want it for your sake or just because he had enough of you? Deep inside, you knew the answer but years of insecurities clouded your judgement. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “You can ask. Can’t promise I’ll grant you your wish.”

Felix leaned back and chuckled at your response. It was just so you.

“What about your boyfriend? Is he staying behind too?” Felix remembered.

You groaned at the mention of now your ex-boyfriend. There was something definitely wrong with you. You had been together for two years and it was two happy years, and yet, you didn’t feel sad when he broke up with you. Was it normal? You doubted.

“We’re not together anymore.” You admitted through gritted teeth.

Felix cocked a brow, amused. “I thought he was the one.”

Oh, you little shit. You shot daggers, wanting to throttle him for the teasing. Of course, he had to remember the words you dared to say long ago. The words, you said when you were sixteen; young, dumb, naïve and desperate for love.

Your body moved on its own. You pushed Felix. “Meanie.”

But it made him laugh only louder. “Am I?”

You couldn’t stop yourself – you launched yourself at Felix, tickling him to death. At least, you knew about one of his weaknesses and you had no remorse using it against him. He squealed and laughed and tried to grip your arms to stop you but you were fast and very determined to make him pay.

“Have mercy!” Felix begged through his uncontrollable giggles.

“No!” On one hand you didn’t want to stop because you loved having him at your mercy. On the other hand, you enjoyed the sound of his giggles a little too much. It was a beautiful melody and warm and contagious. You couldn’t help but laugh along.

Until Felix grabbed your hips and threw you on the ground, pinning your wrists over your head. Pinning you down with his body.

You were no longer laughing.

You froze on the spot, barely able to breath as you watched him hovering over you, smiling wickedly at you. How the table had turned. He was the one having all the power now.

“Got ya.” He said proudly.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity, his warmth enveloping you in a warm hug. You couldn’t find your words, your brain refused to cooperate. Instead, you simply took this chance to observe him. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself staring at him, admiring him. From day one, you thought Felix was the most beautiful person you had ever met. With years, this thought never changed.

And especially not now.

You admired the cute freckles all over his face. His pretty lips. The cute nose. And those eyes. They shone so brightly, like stars in the middle of the night. For a moment you swore their colors changed. From deep brown, you saw a flicker of orange. In a blink it was gone.

You cleared your throat. “Can you release me now please? You won.”

Felix hummed and leaned closer; his face dangerously close to yours.

Your heart missed a beat. Then, another.

And then it started beating too fast, going crazy over the proximity. What was he doing? And why was your stupid body reacting so strongly to his weight over you, to his warm breath over your lips? What the hell, Y/N?

“Fe-Felix?” You stuttered, feeling a little dizzy, your face flushed.

Was there something in the air? Did someone cast another spell and you were unaware of it? Did someone put something in your cake? You had no reason to feel so affected with Felix’s closeness. It didn’t make sense for your body to crave suddenly more of him.

Felix’s eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips. You couldn’t help but wonder what was he thinking? Did he want to kiss you? Was he simply toying with you? It was probably the latter. Right?

You begged your body to move – it didn’t. Did you want him to press himself even harder against you? Did you want him kiss you? Was it the reason your body refused to cooperate? Were you that slow to realize what was right under your nose? It couldn’t be, could it?

Before you could ponder more on the matter, Felix finally moved. He pulled back and sat beside you. He dared to wink as if he didn’t just make you question your relationship, your feelings for him.

The little shit indeed.

☆☆☆☆☆

19 years old,

Whoever said that college life was a piece of cake was a fucking liar. College was slowly driving you crazy and not in a fun way.

Yes, studying was interesting. For once, you were learning things you were actually interested in and not something imposed by your school. But the exams? God, you hated it with all your heart. Studying for exams was stressful and exhausting. You wanted to do your best. You wanted to prove to yourself that even if you were a failure of a witch, you were still good at something. Of course, it wouldn’t change the course of your life in the coven, but it still would mean the world to you.

Too bad, you were losing your mind over it. You slammed your book close and threw it to the other side of your bed. You grabbed your pillow and screamed into it. You lay on your bed for a moment, contemplating your life. Should you keep pushing yourself tonight or was it time to take a break?

“Fuck it.” You told yourself and scrambled out of your bed.

Before leaving your room, you glanced at the clock on your bedside table: 3am. It was late and you doubted Felix was still awake. But who knew? Maybe being half-demon meant he didn’t sleep that much at night? Wishful thinking Y/N.

You still went.

You sneaked inside the basement on your tiptoes, trying not to make any sound. The last thing you needed was for someone to find out your little secret. It happened once, after all, and you swore it would never happen again. For your sake and for Felix’s.

The first thing you heard when you pushed the door leading to Felix’s prison were his little moans of pain. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sound. Was there someone or something hurting him? You hurried to get inside and found nothing.

Your gaze swept the room, looking for something out of place or maybe someone hiding in the darkest corner of the room. But nothing. Nothing was out of order. Still the same candles burning all around the room. Still the same damn circle with Felix’s bed right in the middle.

Felix cried out and you run, not caring anymore if someone was hiding. You got to him in a matter of seconds and sat on his bed beside him. Felix was writhing in pain as if something was hurting him in his sleep. You put your hands on his chest and tried to wake him up.

“Felix, come on. It’s just a dream. Wake up.” You shook him few times but nothing worked. In his sleep, he grabbed the sheets and tore it apart. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him towards you so his head could rest on your laps. His whole body was warm. Too warm. Something was definitely wrong with him. You tried, despite your own exhaustion, to think about the few spells you knew and controlled. There was one you used on yourself many times when you couldn’t sleep, maybe it could sooth him and get rid of the nightmare that plagued his dreams. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was an easy spell; you had done it a hundred times. No pressure.

Your hands warmed up as you held his face and slowly Felix relaxed under your touch. You let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me.” Gently, you stroked his hair and enjoyed the softness.

Felix moved in his sleep. He turned around and buried his face into your laps. He wrapped his arms around your waist and sighed in both relief and delight, finding the comfort he desperately needed in you.

You, on the other hand, forgot how to breath. You didn’t move as he tightened his hold around you. It wasn’t that strong but you were now his prisoner and you realized, you didn’t mind at all. Having him so close to you, felt nice and warmed your insides.

You smiled at him and resumed stroking his hair. At least one of you would sleep tonight. “It’s so unfair.” You whispered into the darkness, confessing. “You shouldn’t be stuck here.”

You had spent years down here with him, talking, laughing, crying together. They told you he was evil and bound to do bad things. They told you his kind was unredeemable. They told you he was better locked than out there, seducing, corrupting weak minds. But you just didn’t understand their words. They didn’t know Felix like you knew him. He was the sweetest person you had ever met. He was a gentle soul and incapable of hurting someone. Unless provoked.

You closed your eyes and bit on your lips to prevent a groan of frustration. You hated them. You hated this situation. You hated your promise to him. If only you could find a way to break him free.

Felix cut short to your thoughts by pressing his lips to your skin. You gasped at the warm touch and the tingles that spread all over your body.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. You tried to shift, to put some space between your very exposed legs and his lips but even in his sleep he could sense your poor attempt. He held you a little tighter.

Another press of his lips. And then another.

For fuck’s sake! You were screaming and crying in your head, your body burning with every press of his lips. You were not supposed to like it. You were not supposed to get turned on in a situation like this. You had to get out of here. You had to run before your treacherous heart could burst out of your chest and beg for him to take it.

☆☆☆☆☆

19 years old,

Summoning a familiar seemed like the easiest thing in the world. At least, it looked like when you watched the other young witches doing it. You? Not so much. You spent few days trying, desperately, begging for someone to answer your call. Nobody did. So once again you proved to be the weakest witch in your coven.

The failure.

You hated your weakness and you hated yourself for giving so damn much about it.

That was two years ago.

But you were stubborn and even two years later you were still trying. You needed to succeed. To prove to yourself that you could do it, so maybe later you would find a way to free Felix with your magic.

“God dammit!” You screamed in frustration and threw your arms in the air. Why did it have to be so damn complicated?

Felix glanced at you from his bed, where he sat legs crossed with a book. “I have to admit that I admire your stubbornness.”

You flipped him off.

He laughed heartily. “No, I promise, I’m serious. You’ve been trying non stop for the past three nights. I would have given up ages ago.”

Yeah, you were stubborn. You blew out your candles and put your things back in your bag. There was no point trying. “Or maybe I’m just unworthy of a familiar.”

If there was one thing Felix didn’t tolerate it was when you showed him how much you hated yourself. He knew it had everything to do with this coven and how much they shamed you for being different as if it was a bad thing. He didn’t like it. He closed his book and completely disregarded it. He walked toward you, grabbed your arm and pull you back on your feet. “I’d bond with you.”

You stared at him in disbelief. How could he say something like that so easily? His words were meant to ease your doubts, to make you feel better about yourself but all it did was make your heart beat a little faster. “You can’t say shit like that.” You pulled your arm out of his grip as your cheeks turned pink.

Felix cocked a brow. “Why? I’m serious.” He took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re amazing, you know it, right?”

You didn’t think your face could turn even redder but it did - you felt it on fire. Your heart was roaring in your ears and there was no stopping. The butterflies erupted in your stomach and no matter how hard you tried to regain control over your body, over your emotions, nothing worked. Not when Felix held your hand. Not when Felix looked so sweetly at you. Not when Felix comforted you and believed in you. Not when you found yourself craving more of him. Fuck. I’m so fucked.

“I’ll always tell you how amazing you are.”

☆☆☆☆☆

19 years old,

The sight before you was the most sinful sight ever.

And your wildest dream.

You were sweaty, writhing, moaning and panting with Felix nestled right between your thighs. His fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks that you would savor later and that would always bring back the memory of this moment.

Felix devoured you like a starved man. You were his meal and he was enjoying it with all his might. He was moaning and groaning at the taste of you on his tongue, at all the little noises that came out of your mouth. He loved how badly you needed more of him. He loved how easily you fell apart just because of his lips. And tongue. And fingers.

“Were you hoping for this, Y/N?” Felix asked as he pulled back. You were so damn close and yet, he refused to let you come. He stopped playing and watched you curse under your breath. Watched as tears of frustration gathered in the corner of your eyes.

“Felix, please.” You begged, your whole body trembling with need and despair.

But Felix only smiled wickedly at you, looking like the devil he was supposed to be. He moved up your body, trailing kisses as he went. You grabbed his hair and pulled as hard as you could as if to punish him for daring to stop.

“So needy.” He cooed and crushed his lips against yours. “So impatient.” His fingers toyed with your pussy. Feather-light touches that barely gave you what you needed and drove you very slowly crazy.

And then came a slap. Your hips jerked and you arched your back, moaning loudly. “Please.”

Felix bit on your lower lip, pulling it with his teeth. “Then say it.” You didn’t think his voice could get any deeper, rougher but it did.

Your whole body shuddered at his command, at his voice. You had no other choice left. You had to confess if you wanted a release. “Fine!” You screamed when came another slap and you couldn’t take it any longer. “Yes. Every time I visited you, I hoped you would lose your temper.” You sobbed in despair, your body begging for him to give you a release. “I wanted you so badly to snap and show me what you could do to me. I wanted you to make me yours.”

And even in your delirious state, you told him the truth. It happened slowly. So damn slowly. But you wanted him. You wanted him to kiss you. To hold you in his arms. To ravish you. To love you. Not that you believed you deserved it, but you still hoped for it.

Felix’s lips were once more on yours. Sweet. Gentle. Loving. “Good girl.” He plunged two fingers inside you, stretching you, stroking. In and out. You took everything he gave you like the good girl you were. And he watched you. Watched as you called for him, like a mantra. Watched as you moved your hips, taking his fingers deeper, completely lost in your own pleasure.

You were just so close.

And yet.

You opened your eyes and sat straight in your bed.

Sweaty.

Drenched.

And completely out of breath. Your heart beat fast in your chest. You gasped, blinking fast as realization dawned on you. Holy shit. You knew your relationship with Felix was changing. Or maybe you were the only one who changed, but you couldn’t believe it would lead you to a damn sex dream.

You climbed off the bed and went straight to your bathroom. You needed a shower. And a rather cold one to calm down. Your body was aching and on fire. You let the cold water fall down on you. With closed eyes you tried to calm your breathing. But your damn brain refused to let go. The image of Felix nestled between your legs plagued your mind.

“Stop it.” You begged your brain. You couldn’t think about him. You couldn’t think about this damn dream. Not now. Not ever. If you wanted to keep things normal between the two of you.

But your body and your mind craved Felix in a way you weren’t ready for.

You pressed your head against the wall and took a deep breath. You needed a release whether you wanted to admit it or not. Obviously, you couldn’t go and ask Felix to help you out. That would be crazy.

Resigned, your hand slid down from your neck to your breast to your stomach before slipping your fingers through your folds. You were so damn on edge because of the dream. You tried not to think too much about Felix as you curled your fingers inside you. And failed miserably. All you could see was him. All you could see was his pretty mouth working on you, teasing you.

“Fuck.” You moaned as you added your other hand and rubbed your clit. Fast. You needed to come.

‘Good girl.’ The memory of Felix’s praise and deep voice was all it took to push you over the edge.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself going downstairs, still unsatisfied and thirsty as hell. Fortunately for you, it was the middle of the night and nobody was around to witness your miserable state. Nobody could see that something was wrong with you.

And yet, instead of founding yourself in the kitchen, you found yourself in the only place you shouldn’t be.

In Felix’s prison.

Should you also mention the fact that he was wide awake and staring at you with dark, dangerous eyes as if he had sensed you. As if he could smell your arousal. As if he could tell what you did minutes ago. As if he knew you had no business being here this late and in this state.

Because sadly for you, you were still burning with need.

You gulped nervously. The wise thing to do would be turn around and leave before you could say or do something incredibly stupid. But your body refused to obey. You found yourself staring back at him, barely breathing, barely functioning.

Felix’s eyes roamed over your body, staring a little longer than necessary at your exposed legs. Staring a little too intensely for your liking at your oversized shirt that barely covered your ass. Could he sense that you wore absolutely nothing under your shirt? Judging by the sharp inhale, he did.

You felt naked and exposed and fucking turned on.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” Felix’s voice was dark and commanding.

But did it calm you? Hell no. Heat pooled between your thighs at the sultry darkness in his voice.

Turn back Y/N. Turn back. You didn’t. Instead, slowly, you walked toward him, your eyes locked with Felix’s. You were playing a dangerous game. But did you care? A little maybe. But not enough to stop.

“I can’t sleep.” You told him. You stopped right by the circle, waiting for a sign from him to come inside. To get closer. To risk it all.

But Felix only clenched his fists and stared back at you with a frown. “Stop.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he raised his hand to stop you.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.”

His refusal stung but at least it had the very much needed effect on you. It woke you up from this odd state. You slapped yourself mentally. What the hell were you thinking? Did you really think you could be with him? Did you really think that Felix would touch you while being locked by your family?

How silly of you.

You cleared your throat and laughed nervously. “Sorry. You’re right.” And you took a step back, putting some space between the two of you. Slowly clearing your mind.

You felt stupid. And delusional. And a little heartbroken, but you shoved these feelings in a corner and put on a smile. “Goodnight, Felix.”

You turned around and didn’t look back, too scared to see pity on his face. Too scared to show him how you felt. You walked fast as if the devil was after you. And maybe it wasn’t far from the truth. You didn’t stop.

Not even when you heard him call your name.

☆☆☆☆☆

You missed Felix.

Like crazy.

And slowly it was driving you crazy.

The longing. And you had only yourself to blame for this.

After that night and the rejection, you were too embarrassed to show your face. You were a coward, you knew it, but it was easier this way. Until it wasn’t. You could pretend it never happened; it would be the right thing to do. But you couldn’t. Not when your mind still played tricks on you and made you remember the dream so vividly. Not when your heart squeezed painfully in your chest every time you thought about Felix.

How were you supposed to face him again without thinking about that night? How were you supposed to face him and ignore how your whole body craved his presence, his touches? How were you supposed to ignore the pull?

But staying away was also hurting you. And before being something else, Felix was your friend and you were his only friend in this place. You couldn’t hide forever without hurting him too.

Be brave. You told yourself as you stopped right behind the door to his cage. You had no reason to be scared. It was Felix, your favorite person on earth. You could make it right.

“I know you’re there.” Felix’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

Of course, he could sense you. When couldn’t he? You sighed and pushed the door, feeling ridiculous for even hesitating.

But all your pep talks and bravery vanished the moment you saw him standing and waiting for you. Nobody should be allowed to look this good. This effortlessly beautiful. You wanted to scream at the unfairness.

“Are you finally scared of me?” Felix asked, reminding you of the very first night you met. He had asked you the same question.

Your answer never changed. Not then, not now. You scoffed at his ridiculous question. “You wish.”

Feeling a little better, you walked more confidently towards him.

“Then why did you stop visiting?”

You stopped and quirked your brow at him. The answer was obvious but apparently, he didn’t get it. “Because I’m embarrassed.”

Felix considered your words, and then, slowly outstretched his hand towards you. Your body reacted on its own accord. You took his hand and let him pull you closer to him.

Felix was so warm, you sighed in delight. Always so gentle, so sweet, so comforting. You didn’t deserve someone like him. But you still wished you could have him.

“Don’t be.”

“I’m sorry for last time.”

Felix shook his head. His free hand moved to your face, gently stroking your cheek before moving to your lips. You watched him completely mesmerized as his thumb rubbed your lower lip. “Don’t even think for a second that I wasn’t tempted that night.”

You gasped both in surprise at his words and at how easily he slipped his thumb into your mouth. Your body was instantly on fire, responding to his gesture, longing for more. You were hot everywhere and getting wetter with every passing second.

And he sensed it. Just like that night. His eyes grew darker. “You’re making it hard for me.” He forced himself to pull away from you before he could do something incredibly stupid. You wanted to grab him and pull him back. You were ready to beg him.

“This thing between us,” He pointed at him and then at you, “Is getting dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You opened your mouth to protest. He would never hurt you, you knew that. But he didn’t let you speak your mind as he continued. “And I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

☆☆☆☆☆

You had a bad feeling.

A bad feeling that only intensified when you overheard aunt Lauren talking with another witch (whose name was long forgotten) about Felix and how it was unacceptable that he was still in the basement. That it was unacceptable that he was still alive. You hated when they dared speak his name. They had no right. In fact, the idea of ripping their tongue out was very tempting if not for the consequences.

You hid in the darkness and waited for them to leave. The need to see Felix grew stronger with every passing minutes. What if they had hurt him while you were studying? What if they had hurt him with their words? Felix had told you many times that he didn’t care about their words, about their opinions but was it still true? It had been thirteen damn years. Who could resist for so long? Who could keep their sanity?

Please, don’t be hurt.

☆☆☆☆☆

Felix was hurt. You gripped the doorknob so strong it dug into your skin. You wanted to push the door and run to him. You wanted to comfort him and tell him he wasn’t alone, that you would help. One way or another.

But you couldn’t do that. Not when your grandmother was standing proudly before him while he was on his knees, bleeding from different wounds.

Your heart squeezed in your chest to the point you could barely breath. Felix was in pain because of your family. Because you promised him to stop trying to free him with your magic. Because you were weak. You were hurt and disappointed and you couldn’t stop the anger rising in you like a tide.

Your grandmother, despite her age, still looked young and strong (there were some perks at being a witch). Most of people who had met her were terrified of her. She inspired respect and fear. Nobody could disobey her without risking being kicked out or worse. Killed. Her rules were law.

But Felix? Felix wasn’t intimidated. He wasn’t scared. He didn’t cower before her. He spat blood at her feet and laughed right to her face. It was a stupid and a very reckless thing to do but you also admired him for it.

“Such a filthy little thing you are.” She disapproved. She snapped her fingers and electricity shot from everywhere right at him, striking him.

Felix groaned in pain and closed his eyes. To endure. He would not give in. He hadn’t done it for the past thirteen years; he would not surrender tonight.

Felix.

Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes but you refused to cry. You couldn’t cry when he was suffering and resisting. You had to stay strong. For him.

He coughed blood but straightened his back as he glared at her. It amazed you how he managed to compose himself and look devilish. Felix had an angelic face but the darkness in his eyes and the smirk let you have a glimpse of what he was.

“Every year, you come and ask me the same thing.” Felix reminded her, looking strong and confident despite his wounds and the blood pooling at his feet. “My answer remains the same. You want to break me? You’re doing a poor job. Or should I say your little help are doing a poor job.”

You bit on your lips to the point you drew blood to stop yourself from screaming. You had always known there was a reason you found small cuts from time to time on Felix. Every time you asked, he refused to tell you the story but now you knew and it infuriated you. How dared they?

“You know that my brothers are looking for me. And they will come for me. Maybe not today or tomorrow but they will. And when they do? They will show you no mercy. Not to you and not to your coven.”

Felix’s threat didn’t work on her (it certainly did on you as you shivered at the coldness in his voice).

She laughed. A cold and ominous laugh. “They had thirteen years to find you. Do you think I didn’t take precautions? Your mother should have done the same if she wanted to hide you so badly from us.”

At the mention of his mother, Felix’s whole demeanor changed. One moment he was sitting, the next he was right back on his feet, snarling, trying to reach your grandmother. But every time he tried to hit the invisible barrier; he got pushed back.

“Shut your mouth!” He warned her.

“You know,” Your grandmother started as she put some space between him and her. “She begged me to spare you. Not to take you. Till her last breath. She was such a promising witch and she ruined all of it. And for what? A demon who forgot all about her the moment she got pregnant? For a love that was never here to begin with? Ridiculous.”

Please tell me she didn’t kill her. You couldn’t believe your grandmother, the once loving woman, would go to this extent. And for what? Greed? Power?

“It was-was you.” Felix took a step back as realization dawned on him. He was shaking uncontrollably, in disbelief. “You killed her.”

She snickered in response. “She knew it would happen and she still chose this path.”

Felix closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe he was thinking about his mom. Maybe he was trying to calm down. Maybe he was making a plan. You couldn’t tell. But you, sure as hell, knew, there was no going back. They said he was evil – you disagreed.

This coven was evil.

Your family was evil. Not the other way around.

“You will pay for it.” Felix tried one last time to reach for her, probably hoping to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her to death. It didn’t work. He was pushed back, falling miserably on the floor while your grandmother laughed.

“We’ll see.” And vanished.

You stayed in the darkness for a moment. Your heart going crazy in your chest. Your thoughts running wild. You wanted to go to him, to embrace him and comfort him. But after what happened, could you really look him in the eyes? Did he want to see you? You were terrified.

Felix coughed and hit the floor over and over, not caring that his skin broke. Not caring that he was adding injuries. Rage pulsed through his veins and nothing could stop him. Nothing could calm him down.

There was so much pain and rage written all over his face – you should go back to the safety of your room and hide. You didn’t. Instead, you ran to him as if your own life depended on it. You fell on your knees beside him and grabbed his hands before it could hit the floor.

“Stop it.” You begged him, trying not to wince at all the blood around you, at the blood on your hands and on your knees.

Wrong thing to say. In a blink of an eye, Felix pushed you – you found yourself pinned to floor, his body crushing you, his hands wrapped tightly around your throat. If you were a normal person, this act of violence should have terrified you. He was completely lost in his rage, unable to hear, to see. But you weren’t scared. All you could feel was deep sorrow for his loss, for his life.

“Felix.” You called him, hoping to bring him back. He squeezed your throat a little tighter.

“Felix.” You tried again.

But still no sign of him. Instead, his grip only tightened.

Would he kill you? It was a sad way to go, and yet, you still weren’t scared. But worried. Worried he would wake up later and blame himself for what he did. Worried your grandmother finally managed to break him. You refused this outcome.

“Felix.” You touched his cheek, stroking gently and wiping some blood. “Come back to me, please?”

For a second, you thought you were done for, but then, slowly, he unwrapped his fingers from your neck. “Y/N?” He stared at you, blinking rapidly as if he was seeing you for the first time. Realizing what he had almost done, he gasped and pulled back, falling right on his butt.

“I’m sorry.” As he said those words, tears rolled down his cheek. “I-“

You coughed and rubbed your throat. “Don’t.” You kneeled beside him and took his hands. “I’m so sorry, Felix. I knew things were bad but clearly, I underestimated my family’s crime.”

“Y/N.”

You shook your head. “I know I promised you to never try again those spells. But Felix, I can’t watch my family hurt you. I can’t do it anymore.”

You expected Felix to protest like he used to, but instead he just stared at you through his tears. You squeezed his hands, wanting him to know that you were on his side and would do anything to help him. Especially now that you knew the extent of the crimes.

“Aren’t you scared?” He finally asked. “If you free me, there will be no stopping me, Y/N. I will burn this place down.”

How many times had he asked you if you were scared? Your answer never changed. Not even tonight.

You smiled and leaned closer. “Good. I’ll give you the matches.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Lunch break was the only time of the day when you could read the spell book without risking another witch from your coven to see what you were trying to do. They didn’t like you and you didn’t want to give them a reason to think that you were up to something. Not like they could possibly imagine that you were trying to help a demon. Their arrogance would be their doom.

You chewed on your piece of bread as you observed the different magic circles, trying to find the one your grandmother used to trap Felix. You had read so many books through the years and yet, you just couldn’t find the right one. Was she powerful enough to create a trap of her own? That would explain a lot.

You stopped chewing and slowly averted your gaze from the book. All your senses were on alert. Something was getting closer to you. Something dark and dangerous and terribly familiar. You sighed in relief, recognizing the scent, and relaxed.

“Huh. Trying to trap a demon, Y/N?” Jisung’s familiar voice echoed right from behind you. He hovered over you until he completely rested his chin on top of your head, peeking at your book. Typical of him. You slammed the book close and nudged him in the ribs. “Ouch.”

“You deserved it.” You poked him this time, for good measure.

“You’re a menace!” He declared and dodged another attack. “Have mercy on my poor soul.”

You laughed heartily at his poor attempt at playing the victim. Despite his boyish look, his loud laugh and easy-going personality, you still saw the beast under his skin. Jisung was not an innocent man. He could fool most of people around him. But not you.

Jisung sat on the opposite side of you, crossed his legs and smirked knowingly. “You know, if you want some kinky time with a demon, there’s better a way than a trap?”

You cocked a brow at him. You never confronted him about his identity or why he approached you the first time but maybe it was about time you had this conversation. “Why? Are you suggesting I have some fun with you, Ji?”

“Sure. Why not? But I’m not sure you can handle me.” He laughed and clapped his hands.

“So confident.” You tsked but smiled nevertheless. “Are all demons like you?”

For a moment you thought about Felix. He was confident but not on Jisung’s level. Or at least, not with you.

“Yeah. I mean, if there’s one thing, we’re exceptionally good, it’s definitely sex.” Jisung bragged proudly.

The image of Felix nestled between your legs flashed in your mind and you cursed under your breath. Why did your brain choose this moment to think about this stupid dream? And why were you now imagining how good the real thing would be with him? You squeezed your thighs under the table and hoped Jisung was too lost in this conversation to smell your arousal.

Jisung opened his mouth and closed immediately. His eyes widened in shock as finally his brain registered your words. “Wait a second.” He leaned closer. “You.” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “You knew?! When? How?”

For someone supposedly evil, Jisung’s confused face looked too adorable. The urge to squish his cheeks was strong, you had to hold back.

“From day one.” You admitted.

“No way.” Jisung slumped in his chair, having a mental breakdown. “But you’re a witch. And we’re friends, right?”

“So?”

“In case you forgot, witches and demons don’t mix well.”

“I’m well aware and if you want my opinion, it’s stupid.” You took Jisung’s hands – he winced at the touch. For the first time, he actually feared your touch. It stung but you couldn’t completely blame him. “Why should I hate you when you’ve been good to me?”

Your words had the effect of a slap. Jisung’s face blanched and he slowly pulled away from your touch. It was odd to see him so calm and wary and distant.

“I wasn’t good to you.” He disapproved. “I didn’t approach you with good intentions.”

“Maybe. But you saved me when those angry spirits tried to have a taste of me.”

“You knew it was me?”

“Demons aren’t the only one good with scents you know?”

“What do I smell like?”

“Cheesecake.”

“Now you’re fucking with me.”

“Am not.”

Jisung had a hard time to believe that a witch, and despite knowing you for a while now, could accept a demon like him so easily. But no matter how hard it was for him to believe, there was no lie in your eyes, in your voice. You smiled genuinely at him and were waiting for him to make a move and to admit that the two of you were actually real friends.

“Well shit.” He leaned back in his seat, a lazy smile spreading on his face. “I’m friends with a witch.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Talking with Jisung made you realize one thing. If you couldn’t find help in books, there was still one thing you could do: ask another demon for help. Hopefully demons could find other demons. Like Felix’s brothers. Maybe you should have asked Jisung, he was the safest option. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to let him get involved in this mess.

You couldn’t go back home to do the summoning. It was too risky. Luckily for you, years ago, you had found a tiny, wooden cabin in the middle of the foods. It was covered in moss and spider webs, but you didn’t care. It was a perfect escape to practice. And it was the perfect, isolated place to summon a demon.

Candles, blood, a perfectly drawn circle; you were ready for the summoning. You refused to let your insecurities win. It will work. You could not fail tonight.

You willed your heart to calm down. You willed your body to relax and your mind to stay focused on one thing only: summon a demon.

You closed your eyes and recited the spell. You felt your magic stirring slowly inside you, trying to reach out to something. You had no idea if it was working, but you kept going, letting your magic out, letting the spell work its magic.

At first, nothing happened. You opened your eyes and found the room hadn’t changed. You stood alone, candles being your only source of lights. But then, the light flicked and the temperature in the room dropped drastically. You looked all around you, trying to find anyone hiding and at first you saw nothing. But then, a shadow moved in the corner of the room.

“A bloody witch dares to summon me.” A man’s voice echoed in the room. Cold, ominous and filled with hatred.

Instead of feeling offended with his obvious displeasure and insult, you were delighted. You had done it. You summoned a demon. For once, it worked just like you intended.

“I need your help.” You hurried to say before he decided you were wasting his time and would leave. Because, you could deal with him hating you. You could deal with him trying to attack you. But you could not deal with him leaving before you could ask for his help.

The shadow stilled at your words. “Can’t be good.”

You could see it more clearly now. It didn’t have a man’s shape, but the shadow was taller than you, bigger, and you could feel him watching you. You took a step towards him.

“Aren’t you scared, witch?”

Oh scared you were, alright. But you could deal with your fear later. “I’m desperate.”

You moved as close as you could to him, hoping he could tell you weren’t here to try to trap him. In fact, it seemed the circle you drew couldn’t hold him at all since he stood out of it. You ignored this tiny detail, and stopped only when you were close enough. The cold, it was coming from his shadows, you realized.

“I don’t have bad intentions. I swear.” But as you said those words, your confidence wavered a little. How were you supposed to convince him when the hatred was so strong?

He scoffed at your words. You opened your mouth to try to explain yourself but found yourself unable. A hand made of shadow wrapped around your throat, his grip strong, it would bruise later.

“I don’t care.” He said and his grip on you tightened. He watched with what felt like glee as you gasped for air. You tried to fight him back but he wouldn’t budge. No, it only amused him to see you struggle.

“I will never work with a witch.” And he released you.

You stumbled and coughed; your hand pressed to your throat. It hurt but you swallowed your pain and raised your head to look at the shadows. “Please.” You tried to reach him, desperately.

Wrong move.

He didn’t hesitate as he struck. And struck hard. You cried out in pain, realizing too late what he had done. A cut right across your stomach. Not enough to be deadly, but enough to draw blood and make it hurt.

“Consider yourself lucky. I should kill you, but not tonight.”

With that, he left you alone.

How sad was it? Your summoning was a success. And yet, you still had failed.

☆☆☆☆☆

Your wound, despite not being deep, hurt like a bitch. You needed to get back to your room and use your magical compress to heal yourself, but your grandmother’s voice stopped you in your tracks. You tried to make yourself as small as you could, willing the darkness to swallow you whole.

“I know, you’re not done with him. But two witches had disappeared so far. And two of them were spotted in town. If you don’t want to get rid of him now, then, we should move him.” A witch told your grandmother and by the sound of her voice, she was obviously nervous. Yet, you had to applaud her bravery for talking so boldly to your grandmother. Not many did and only few survived her wrath.

Your grandmother clicked her tongue in annoyance but didn’t comment.

“What if they’re the reasons those two witches disappeared? What if they make them talk?” She kept pressing the matter.

You held your breath, expecting your grandmother to blow up at any seconds.

But she didn’t. She sighed. “Two days. We’ll move him in two days.”

Shit.

You weren’t planning to visit Felix tonight. There was no way he could ignore your wound which meant you were in big trouble. But you also couldn’t not go. Not when you overheard the conversation. He needed to be prepared and the two of you had to find a solution. And quickly.

“I need to talk to you.” You said as soon as you got inside.

Felix froze as the scent of your blood hit his nose. He growled and before you could stop him, he was already in your personal space, moving you as if you were a ragdoll, checking for injuries.

“Stop it. We don’t have time.” You tried to stop him by grabbing his hands but he didn’t listen. He didn’t stop.

He removed your jacket and his growl sounded even more animalistic than before at the sight of your bloodied shirt. He hiked your shirt, and any other time, you would have blushed and probably ask for more. But not tonight.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice so quiet, so lethal. There was a storm brewing and you weren’t sure how to deal with it.

“Felix, we don’t have time. There are more pressing matters on our hands.” You insisted and pulled on your shirt, wanting to cover your wound and avoid his angry and desperate gaze.

Not that your behavior was helping your case or soothing his anger. In fact, it had the opposite effect. “I don’t give a damn, Y/N. Who did this to you?”

Oh, he was pissed. Pissed as hell and ready to fight you if needed. But so were you. Annoyed, you pushed him with all your strength. He stumbled back but quickly recovered.

“Y/N.” He warned you.

“Felix.” You said stubbornly.

Felix closed his eyes, trying to keep his temper in check, but with you being unreasonable, it was getting harder. He had never raised his voice in your presence. He had never threatened you. But tonight, it was getting tempting.

He grabbed your chin and leaned closer. “Who.Did.It?”

“A demon!” You yelled. “Happy? Now can we move on?”

“Like hell! Why would a demon attack you?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. There was no point fighting. Turned out, Felix could be unreasonable (according to you) and just as stubborn as you. “Because I summoned one.” His face blanched at your admission and you could feel, Felix was about to explode and it would get ugly. “I was desperate, ok? I wanted to ask for help to find your brothers.”

His eyes widened in surprise at your confession. You didn’t know what he expected, but clearly not you looking for his brothers.

“You’re looking for my brothers?” He asked dumbfounded.

You sighed, resigned. “Yes. You know I’m a shitty witch. There’s nothing I can do to free you, but they can, can’t they?”

Felix hesitated but nodded his head. He gulped, having a hard time to find his voice. “But Y/N, if they see you, they can hurt you before you even have time to ask for their help. I don’t want that.”

His words were both a balm to your heart and frustrating. How could he think about your safety after all those years? How could he think about you when, although it was a dangerous path, it was probably your best shot at his freedom?

You reached for his cheek and gently stroked it. “Have some faith in me. They’re our only shot. And I need to find them now. My grandmother ordered to move you in two days. We can’t wait any longer.”

Felix pressed his face into your hand, savoring your touch and your warmth. And then, he pressed his soft lips to your hand. “Without a doubt, you are the most reckless and bravest witch I have ever met.”

You smiled sheepishly at him. “Because you know so many witches.”

He chuckled. “At least four.” You whistled, impressed. “But none of them can compare to you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way Felix looked at you. So much fondness and adoration in his eyes – you could melt right on the spot. You tried to pull away your hand from his face, just to put some space, to spare your heart but Felix had other plans. He grabbed your wrist before you could do anything and crushed your body against his.

“You, Y/N,” He whispered against your lips, “are both my doom and salvation.” And with that he captured your lips.

Your body instantly reacted to his kiss. With just a press of his lips, he set your whole body on fire. How long had you dreamt about this moment? How many times had you imagined him kissing you? Too many times, and yet, nothing could compare to the reality. And it was all it took to unravel you.

All thoughts vanished and nothing mattered anymore except him. Your demon. Your prince charming. Your friend. Your lover.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss. At first, it was soft and sweet. Not anymore. Months of pent-up frustration and you could finally let go.

Felix chuckled against your lips; your eagerness both amusing and much appreciated.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment ever since you came to me, all wet, ready to beg me to take you.” He groaned against your lips. Slowly, he fisted your hair and when you were too gone, he pulled hard. “You have no idea how hard it was to resist you, love. The demon in me wanted me to claim you.” His lips traveled from your mouth to your jaw. “To make you scream my name.” To your neck, leaving marks on his way, making sure that you knew who you belonged to.

The ache between your thighs intensified at his words and a tiny moan slipped past your lips. “You should have listened to your inner demon.”

Felix chuckled against your skin. “I’m listening to him now.”

He certainly did.

Felix hiked your legs around his waist, making you squeal in the process. He carried you to his bed and threw you not so gently anymore on top of it. He watched you with a predatory gaze as you bounced, your hair spread all around you, a mess, completely at his mercy.

“All mine.” He said with such conviction and possessiveness, it took you off guard. He didn’t strike you as a possessive man, not when he looked like an angel, but maybe it was his inner demon speaking after all, wanting you to know that there was no more escape.

Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m all yours’, Felix had claimed your mouth once more. Possessive, demanding, fierce - he swallowed your tiny gasp of surprise. There he was, the little devil hiding behind his gentle face, behind his every smile. And you loved every second of it.

His lips, his hands, they were everywhere at once. Kissing, marking, touching. But it still wasn’t enough. You needed the clothes off. You needed to feel skin against skin, to feel his warmth, everything. You gently pushed him off you only to quickly disregard all your clothes, leaving you completely exposed. At his mercy.

But the moment his eyes landed on the wound on your stomach, he froze for a moment. He stared at the wound with such intensity, you almost wished you could hide from his gaze. So many emotions flickered through his eyes; anger, a quiet promise of death to the one who dared to hurt you, despair and love.

“I promise, it’s not that bad.” You assured him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes to look at you, a groan escaped him at the sight of you, your arms spread open, inviting him to take what was rightfully his. This made him snap. He was on top of you, planting kissed all over your body, leaving no skin untouched.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered against your skin.

Your entire body thrummed with need. You wanted him so badly, it hurt. He knew it, he could tell it and yet, he took all his sweet time, as if he wanted memorize every part of you. Every mark, every mole, every tiny scars. Everything about you were precious and he made sure you knew it.

Felix slid down your body, slowly, trailing kisses as he went, stopping only when he came face to face with your embarrassingly wet pussy. You were drenched and all he did was to kiss you. You could only imagine how ruined you would be by the end of it.

Felix hummed in satisfaction as he stole one taste from your folds. “Fuck. I knew you’d be the death of me.”

“Felix.” You begged, pushing your hips closer to him.

He glanced at you, and you squirmed at the glint full of mischief in his eyes. You were in trouble.

“Tell me what you want, love.” And he nudged your clit with his nose, making you whine in both need and despair.

“I want you. All of you.” You confessed. It wasn’t exactly the answer he was waiting for, but you still wanted him to know.

Felix’s eyes softened at your words and he planted a soft kiss on your thigh. “I’m all yours.”

He buried his face between your legs, feasting like a starved man. There was no stopping him now and he promised to himself to enjoy every second of it. And he did. He alternated between gentle licks and long, hard pulls on your clit, savoring your taste, savoring the little moans that spilled out of your mouth.

“Felix.” You moaned over and over, completely lost to the feeling of his mouth, of his tongue. You writhed and bucked, wanting more.

And Felix, despite being a tease, gave you everything. He slid a finger inside you as he sucked your clit, and then another. In and out. Faster. Deeper. Bringing you so close to your sweet release.

“Come for me, love.” His deep voice was all you needed as you obeyed him. Your orgasm crashed into you and Felix still kept going, letting you ride out your orgasm. “So beautiful.”

The sight of him between your legs, mouth drenched with your release, almost made you come again.

He pulled away, his eyes on you, he let you watch as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, slowly, playfully.

You whimpered at the sight. He had no right to look both this handsome and so wicked. So sinful.

“Like what you see?” He teased.

You huffed and stuck your tongue. It was a childish display but Felix’s eyes only darkened, imagining all the things he could do with this mouth of yours.

“Careful, love.” He warned you.

You didn’t think you could get any wetter, but you certainly did. He had so much power over you, over your body and he didn’t know it. Yet. “I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

“Do you, now?”

“Felix.”

“Y/N.”

So damn annoying.

Felix chuckled. Despite him wanting to tease you, he couldn’t ignore his own needs. He couldn’t ignore his cock begging to be dealt with. He quickly took his clothes off and you watched him completely mesmerized as he exposed all of him. So damn beautiful. All of him. You stared at his cock and licked your lips, wanting to have a taste.

“You’re perfect.” You told him as you tried to reach him. But Felix gently pushed you back, settling between your legs.

“So are you.” And he kissed your lips. He hovered over you. “You’re sure about it, right?”

You kissed the tip of his nose in response. “Yes.”

Felix released a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.

You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more space. Felix grabbed his cock and nudged your clit playfully which only made you whine in response. “Stop teasing.” But he did it again, loving your attempt at bossing him around. Just when you were about to complain, he pushed inside you – and all your retorts died on your tongue. You threw your head back, clenching the sheets as he pushed, inch by torturous inch, filling you up, stretching you slowly.

“Fuck, love, so warm, so tight.” Felix groaned as he grabbed your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. He tried desperately to control his body, his needs and not just slam into you.

“You feel so good.” You mewled and pushed your hips, wanting him deeper.

You took all of him, like the good girl you were.

He dragged his cock out slowly, making sure you could feel all of him, every inch before slamming back in.

“Fuck.” Felix growled.

Felix started slowly – it didn’t last.

You saw it, the shift in his whole demeanor. It was as if the demon inside him had finally snapped. Had finally had enough of all the holding backs. He wanted more, he wanted you to scream, to completely submit. To ruin you.

And you took it all as he set a punishing rhythm. Every thrust stronger and deeper than the previous one.

“I’m never letting you go.” He promised you as he pushed deeper.

With every thrust, he turned you into a mess. A delirious mess. All you could do was take it all and scream his name. Over and over again. And still beg for more.

Everything about Felix was just so addictive. Sweat coated your skins. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a messy kiss, digging your nails into his nape. Only to pull away when he hit that spot that made you see stars.

“You’re taking me so well, love.” He purred and hit that spot again making you cry out.

“Please, don’t stop.” You begged. “I want more.”

“As you wish.” And he gave you exactly what you were asking for. He showed you absolutely no mercy.

Fast, deep.

You split apart with a sharp cry as you came with a full body shudder.

Felix kept going, his thrusts getting a little sloppier as he was nearing his own release. He came with a growl, panting, body shaking, spilling into you.

He fell on top of you, breathing hard, as you wrapped your arms protectively around him.

You stayed in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s’ warmth, knowing that this magical moment was bound to end, one way or another. But you refused your fears to ruin this moment for you. Not when he was with you. Not when you could feal his heart beat in rhythm with yours.

“I really don’t want you to leave.” He admitted as he pressed his lips to your breast, making you squeal in surprise.

You poked his cheek playfully. “I don’t want to either. But Felix, I need to find your brothers before it’s too late.”

Felix sighed and rolled off you so he could face you better. “I don’t know where they are. I doubt they stayed at my mom’s place.” He paused to bite his lips. “Or what’s left of it.”

“What if I try to use a tracking spell?” You suggested and pointed at him. “With your help I might be able to do it.”

Felix sat on the bed and thought about it. He didn’t know much about magic despite his mother’s attempt, but maybe he could help. He looked at his wrist and at the mark. You followed his eyes and almost jumped out of the bed at the sight of it.

“What’s wrong?” He worried.

No way.

You couldn’t have been that blind. “That mark.” You pointed, speechless.

“This?” He showed you his wrist and there was no mistake. You had seen it before and not on Felix. “I share this mark with my brothers.”

You took a deep breath and counted till ten. Nope, still angry. “I’m going to kill him.”

Felix grabbed your arm before you could leave. “Who?”

“Any chance, you have a brother named Jisung?”

Felix let go of your arm in surprise.

Yeah, I’m going to kill him.

☆☆☆☆☆

The moment Jisung opened his door, you pounced on him, not letting him any chance to speak, hitting his chest for good measure. “You are a bloody idiot!” And another hit. You were both equally frustrated and excited. You had the solution to your problem for so long right under your nose and you didn’t even know it.

Before you could hit him another time, he grabbed your wrists with impressive strength, which shouldn’t surprise you so much since he was a demon, and scowled at you. “Hello to you too. What did I deserve to be called an idiot?”

"You knew from day one who I was, Ji!" You yelled at him. You tried to free your wrists from his hold just so you could hit him a few more times but Jisung saw right through your intentions. His grip tightened and you would have winced if not for your anger. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that you're Felix's brother?!"

Whatever Jisung was expecting from you, it was clearly not that. He gaped at you, eyes wide and his strength slowly failing him. He completely let go of your wrists and took a good step back. "What-How" he stammered.

Yeah, he definitely deserved another punch from you. Except you were no longer alone and you realized it too late.

"You have Felix's scent all over you." A man was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, he watched you, eyes dark and judging. Assessing you.

Everything inside you screamed at you to run away before it was too late. Something about him just set all your alarms on alert but you didn't budge. You refused to cower.

Jisung, on the other hand, immediately moved and stood before you, shielding you from the danger that this man posed.

"Ji..." You whispered, taken aback by his sudden protectiveness.

His friend only arched a brow. "I'm not going to hurt her." He promised and something in his voice convinced you that despite his aura, he wasn't trying to deceive you. "You on the other hand, I'm not so sure. You were supposed to use her to get information about Felix, remember that?"

That made you pause and remember Jisung's words about his intentions not being completely good when he first approached you. Now, it made sense and you wished he was straightforward with you. You would have helped them without a second thought if it meant you could save Felix.

You gently pushed Jisung out of your way to face his friend. "Does it matter? I'm here now and we need to talk."

None of them spoke for a moment. Jisung still tensed by your side. His friend, however, after a moment, walked towards you. If he thought he could intimidate you with his gaze, he was wrong. You were ready to do anything for Felix's sake. Even risk your life. And he saw that too in your eyes. He extended his hand for you to shake. "I'm Chris. I guess we have a lot to talk about."

With that, you didn't hesitate. You shook his hand.

You followed them inside Jisung's flat, only to find more men all around the place. All demons, eyes flashing different colors at your presence, no doubt sensing that you were a witch. And no doubt smelling Felix on you. Another time, you would have blushed at the idea of them knowing that something had happened between the two of you. Not tonight. Tonight, you thought, it only proved them that you were not here to trick them.

Jisung cleared his throat, still standing close to you, scared that one of them would not listen and try to hurt you. Your heart swelled with fondness at the thought. Whoever said that demons and witches couldn't be friends, was clearly a dumbass.

"This is Y/N." He introduced you.

You watched them in return, your heartbeat steady, your body, for once, obeyed and didn't shake under their judging gazes. It was a little unnerving but not enough to make you fear for your life.

One of them, however, looked at you with much more hatred than others. Or was it just anger? Or something else? You wondered.

"Nice wound." He commented.

This voice.

You gasped. You knew that voice. And your wound certainly remembered him too. "Hello, asshole." Maybe provoking one of them wasn't your finest moment but your wound still hurt and he was being a jerk without good reason too.

Jisung snapped his head towards you. "You've met Minho?"

You ignored his question and instead stared intensely at Minho.

"I'm curious." Minho started, unimpressed with your behavior. "Why summoning a demon?"

You scoffed at his question. "So now you want to know?"

He shrugged as if it was nothing, only annoying you more with his attitude. "Wonder if you tried to trap me."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You weren't a violent person most of the time, but this demon was clearly testing your patience.

"Wait. You summoned Minho?" Jisung asked completely dumbfounded with this new piece of information.

"I'm surprised she's still breathing." Another one commented.

They were making things unnecessarily complicated. "Felix says hi." You said instead. The moment you spoke, most of them growled, not liking your tone.

You weren't trying to be difficult but your temper was getting hard to keep in check. Especially when you were running out of time.

Jisung pushed you once more behind him. "Don't push them."

Minho growled louder this time and you wondered for a moment if this time he would snap. Could Jisung control him?

"Minho. That's enough." Chris's voice was commanding with a hint of a threat. "She smells like him. Whether you like it or not, you can't hurt her."

You were thankful for his intervention. At least another person in this room didn't want to kill you. Not yet at least. "I was looking for you." You admitted in hope it would stop them from wanting to tear you apart.

So you tell them everything. How you met. How you became friends. Your promise to Felix. How you tried and failed to master your magic to help him. How the coven planned to move him and probably get rid of him for good. And how last night you realized Jisung was Felix's brother.

"I should have asked Felix how to find you from the beginning." You admitted. You had heard many times the mention of his brothers and yet you never thought about asking him. That was probably your biggest mistake and you loathed yourself for it.

Chris, apparently, sensed your distress. He placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "As much as I hate your coven, you were just a kid, Y/N, who knew nothing about the outside world. You can't blame yourself."

You shook your head. "I was a kid then, yes. But what about now? I was trying so badly to find what kind of spell my grandmother used to trap him, it never occurred to me that you, guys, were the solution. And that's on me."

Chris opened his mouth to disagree but another of the demons spoke first. "Is he trapped in a magical circle?"

You turned your face to look at another too damn beautiful man, you thought. It was a little annoying to see that all of them were so painfully beautiful. You quickly locked those thoughts and nodded your head to answer his question. "I've read so many books but never found the spell."

He nodded and took a piece of paper and a pen. "Can you draw it for me?"

You stared at the paper and then at him. Was it possible that demons knew something about witches' magic?

"Hyunjin is an expert in witchcraft." Chris explained. "We've spent quite a few years with Felix's mom. She showed us some of her magic."

Oh.

You didn't hesitate and grabbed the paper and started drawing. It wasn't a hard thing to do considering how many years you had spent trying to find answers.

Once done, you gave the paper back to Hyunjin. He stared at it intensely and then he nodded his head.

No way.

"Your grandmother is a clever witch." Hyunjin said.

Minho groaned at his words.

"Don't growl at me." Hyunjin pointed an accusing finger at him. "I hate the witch as much as you do but this," he pointed back at the drawing, "is clever. To undo her magic you need blood from both a demon and a witch and willingly given. Who in their right mind would do it?"

You blinked. And blinked. It couldn't be that simple, could it?

"I would." You said without hesitation.

Hyunjin averted his eyes from Minho to look at you. A small smile spread on his beautiful face. "She couldn't have foreseen that. No demon would give his blood willingly and no witch would do that either. Especially in your coven. Obviously, except for you. And I bet Felix wouldn't hesitate either."

And he was so right. The hatred for demons ran deep in your coven. Your grandmother made sure of that, so of course, no witches would ever try to free Felix. Except you.

"I have to go back." You told them.

"I'll go with you." Jisung hurried to say.

You smacked his arm. "Don't be ridiculous. They will capture you. It should be me. I'm used to sneak around."

Jisung opened his mouth to protest but you put your hand on his mouth to stop him. You gave him your best, reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Chris was the one to escort you outside. You didn't know why he felt like you needed it but you didn't complain.

"Do it quickly." Chris said as he stopped. "Make sure to leave before tomorrow night. We will attack and I can't guarantee your safety."

It felt surreal. After so long, you were finally so close to your goal. It was both exciting and terrifying. What would you do once it was over?

"How come his powers never manifested?" You asked.

It was your grandmother's obsession. She wanted his power because of his lineage. Half demon, half witch. So special, so powerful. And yet, no matter how much she tried to push him, to break him, he never showed any signs of power. Not that it mattered to you. Felix was just Felix, whether he had powers or not.

"His mom sealed his powers when she knew it was getting dangerous. She knew your coven will want him for themselves. She couldn't risk him."

"And yet, they still got him."

Chris nodded grimly. "I think it was a mistake. With his powers, they would have never been able to capture him."

But his mother didn't want to take the risk. You could understand her thinking, even if you didn't like the outcome.

"Do you..." You hesitated. Freeing him from his prison was one thing, but without his powers, you didn't know how far he could get. "Do you know how I can help?"

Chris's lips stretched into a knowing smile. "Since you're already planning to spill your blood, make him drink it. Just a drop but it will be enough. I guess his mom had also the same thinking. No witches would give him her blood to trigger his powers."

You laughed at that. "I'm happy. I really am. But shit, we could have done it so long ago it's almost annoying."

Chris's grin widened. "Don't I know it."

☆☆☆☆☆

It was the middle of the night. And instead of finding a sleeping house, you found it in pure chaos. You had no idea what happened but everybody was awake and all over the place.

What the hell.

You tried to make yourself invisible. You didn't want to draw attention on you, not when you were planning to join Felix. But you lingered, hoping to get some information.

"I say we simply get rid of him! It has been years!" You heard your aunt Lauren's angry voice. But it wasn't just anger, no, her voice was laced with panic.

"Get a grip on yourself." Your grandmother snapped. "We're moving him like planned."

"But they're coming for him!" Your aunt protested.

You knew immediately who the they were. But how the hell did she know they were coming soon? Or was it just a guess because of those witches who had disappeared? You hoped for the latter.

"Then we move him tonight. By the time they will come, and if they come, he will be gone."

Not under your fucking watch.

Without wasting any more precious minutes, you made your way to the basement, making sure nobody saw you. You quickly texted Jisung, letting him know that there was a change of plan. They had to come tonight.

You were a little worried but also so excited to share the news with Felix. To finally look proudly at him as you had the solution to your problem. And more importantly you wanted to see him walk away from this place.

But all your excitement died at the sight of Felix. Felix and all the wounds covering his body. Your blood froze and for a second you forgot how to breath. "No!"

You ran to him and fall on the ground, reaching for him. "Why, when?"

"I'm fine." But as he lied straight to your face, he winced when you touched his arm.

"Fine my ass! Felix, what have they done?"

You had been away for few hours only and he was hurt. He was hurt and you weren't there for him. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. You couldn't bear to see him hurt.

"You do have a nice ass." He managed to joke.

"I'm so tempted to smack your face right now." You warned him. You were tempted but of course, you wouldn't do it. Instead you pulled his hand towards your lips and kissed the cuts. One after another.

"I'd let you." He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

"Felix!" You groaned. "I can't believe you're joking right now."

He chuckled at your anger and pulled you in his arms, pressing you tightly. "I'm just happy to see you."

You sighed and let yourself relax in his arms. Let his sweet scent engulf you. "Yeah, I thought for a second Minho would kill me this time."

At the mention of his brother's name, Felix froze, then, very slowly he pulled away, his eyes teary. "You saw Minho?"

You smiled softly as you nodded your head. "I saw all of them. Turns out Hyunjin had the solution to your problem."

"Ah shit." Felix sniffed, unable to hold back his tears.

You touched his face and stroked his cheek softly. "You're gonna be alright." You had no doubt about it.

You took a tiny knife out of your pocket and showed it to him. "To free you, we need both of our species’ blood, willingly given."

He stared at the knife and then at you and then again at the knife. He didn't hesitate as he took it and sliced the palm of his hand, letting more of his blood spill on the ground. He handed you back the knife and you took it. Your eyes locked on him, you did the same thing and let your blood spill, mixing with his.

One by one the candles extinguished.

And you felt it then, in the air, the shift. That odd magic that had once repulsed you was slowly vanishing.

And judging by the smile on Felix's face, he felt it too.

There was still one thing you had to do. You leaned closer to him and trapped his face between your hands. "Remember what I told you when you said you wanted to burn this place down?" You asked him.

You saw it then. His eyes, usually warm brown turned bright orange. Like flames. It was there and then gone again.

"You told me you'd give me the matches." He whispered as if barely believing your intentions.

You nodded in satisfaction. "Burn it." And with that you bit on your lips as hard as you could, wanting it to bleed. And it did. You crashed your lips against his, wanting to savor the moment. Who knew when you would have the chance again? But it didn't matter.

He was free.

You poured into the kiss all your emotions, all your love for him, all your needs and all your hopes. Maybe it was a goodbye. Maybe it was just the end of a chapter. Either way, you were excited for what the future held for you.

Felix had always been warm whether you touched him. But tonight, he was burning. You held onto him as long as you could but eventually you had to let go. You watched in astonishment how his eyes were now fully burning. You watched as the temperature got higher and higher in the room until you could barely bear it.

But you were not afraid.

"You should leave." He told you as he got back on his feet. He watched his hands as flames danced in the palm of his hands. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, feeling his power rising to the surface.

"Give me 10 minutes to get out, ok?"

☆☆☆☆☆

You barely stepped outside of the basement when two witches grabbed you.

Fuck my life.

Maybe you were going to burn with all of them, after all.

It should have terrified you. But it didn't. Yes, you hated that your chance of a better life, better future was going out of your reach. But hell, you were about to watch them all pay for all their evil doing. And that thought was kind of comforting.

You let them, without trying to fight back, bring you to your aunt and your grandmother. Your aunt was seething with anger. She never cared for you, in fact, now that you were older, you realized she had hoped your grandmother would decide to get rid of you. Finally, that day had come. Your grandmother, on the other hand, remained calm but her eyes were burning with anger.

"I am so incredibly disappointed." She told you.

The feeling is mutual.

Years ago, it would have pained you to hear those words. Tonight, you cared no longer.

She approached you and then came a slap. A strong one at that. She had never raised her voice or hand but apparently you being involved with a demon was the last straw.

"A filthy demon, really?"

You laughed at her face, no longer fearing her. "Filthy? And yet you so desperately want him."

Your aunt gasped at your audacity. The witches behind you tensed, ready for the storm.

But your grandmother remained composed. "Do you know what happen to witches who betray us?"

You knew and still didn't care.

They didn't deserve your loyalty. They didn't deserve your love. So you wouldn't fear them either. Just like Felix had never feared them.

"I really don't give a damn." You spat right at her face, watching as her eyes widens in horror at your audacity.

"You piece of shit." Your aunt yelled at you. Her magic manifested, making the room tremble.

You closed your eyes. There was little you could do to stop her; you knew your own magic wasn't strong enough. But then, shadows spread all around the room. Dark, wild, devouring everything on its path.

The witches behind you screamed in fear and pain. But you? You felt a warm caress on your back.

You knew those shadows.

"Hi Minho." You turned your face to look as the shadows vanished and instead he stood there, looking as nonchalant as ever. But no more hatred in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Hello kitten." He purred and smirked.

You didn't think you'd be happy to see him. But you were so damn happy.

"Did it work?" He asked.

But before you could answer him, the house shook. And you felt it then. An inferno rising right from the ground. Your ten minutes were up and Felix had brought hell to their step.

"What have you done?" Your grandmother whispered.

Minho wrapped a protective arm around you and pulled you closer to him. You didn't fight him back. Instead, you put your hand on his arm as you looked one last time, proudly, at your grandmother. "Righting a wrong."

Darkness engulfed your whole body. And the next moment you found yourself outside.

You barely took a step from Minho, another set of arms pulled you against a strong body.

"Bloody hell Y/N." Jisung cursed as he squeezed you in his arms. "I thought we were too late."

You chuckled in his arms and squeezed him in return. "Nope. Minho arrived just on time." You glanced at the said man. "Thank you for saving my ass."

"Don't get used to it."

You barely registered his words as the sight behind him captured your attention. The fire was spreading, wild, unforgiving, devouring everything and everybody on its way. You heard it then. The screams.

And you watched along with the two other demons as the coven was finally paying the price for their wrong-doings.

"Where are the others?"

"Making sure nobody escapes." Jisung explained and pointed at the house.

Minho snorted by your side. "Not that they can escape his wrath. Can you sense it? He's not holding back."

For a while, all of you just watched. Watched until the roof collapsed. Watched until slowly everything turned to ashes. Watched until Felix appeared, walking slowly, flames following him closely behind.

It was a beautiful sight, you fought. He was devastatingly beautiful.

You took a step forward but Jisung grabbed your hand and forced you back. "Don't. It has been years since he had used his powers. He can be dangerous."

"It's okay." You reassured him. Because there was one thing you were certain. Felix would never hurt you.

Jisung hesitated. He glanced at Minho but his friend only shrugged. Reluctantly he let go of your hand. "Just be careful."

It took you all your will-power not to run and jump in his arms. It was so damn tempting but Jisung's warning slowed you down. You didn't believe Felix would hurt you, but you also didn't want the sudden movement to trigger him.

As you got closer, Felix followed your every move. Your every step. The look in his eyes was new. You were coming face to face with a predator and despite your feelings, a shiver run down your body.

You stopped few steps from him and observed him. Now that his powers were back, all his wounds had healed. He looked healthier than you had ever seen him.

"How does it feel?" You asked him.

"It can be better." He answered and it made you arch a brow. He was free and had his revenge. What else could make him happier?

But then, Felix opened his arms widely and you knew right away what he wanted. What you both needed. And a big smile spread on your face as you didn't hesitate. You jumped in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist, holding him so tightly as if your life depended on him.

Felix buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet and comforting scent. "Thank you." He whispered and tightened his hold around you.

☆☆☆☆☆

There was something really incredible to be finally able to wake up feeling safe, cherished and in Felix’s arms. So many years, so many hardships and tears, but here you were, safely nestled in his arms, your head resting on his chest.

Nothing mattered anymore. No more witches reminding you what a waste of time you were. No more sneaking around to spend some time with Felix. No more fake family.

Now?

Now, you had found your happiness.

And lots of demons to deal with. It should have probably terrified you to find yourself stuck with them. But you weren’t. You had proved them easily that you were not like your peers. That you loved Felix and were a good friend. And they were easy to befriend too. Loud and funny and completely chaotic, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you could easily see yourself part of their little family.

Felix groaned in his sleep and tightened his grip around you. You smiled sheepishly, now fully awake. And hungry. You pressed your lips to his chest and slowly wiggled out his arms. You pushed the blanket off your bodies and straddled him.

He still didn’t wake up.

You admired his sleeping face and leaned over to pepper his face with kisses. You did want him to have a good rest, but it was his fault for being so damn addictive – you just couldn’t resist.

He stirred in his sleep but didn’t open his eyes. It didn’t deter you. Not even a little.

Your lips traveled from his face to his chest, to his already hardening cock. Your mouth watered. You leaned forward and had a taste. You hummed in satisfaction and excitement. You gripped the base of his cock and slowly slid its length down your throat. You choked, your eyes watering, but you were stubborn and wanted to have fun.

You quickly found your rhythm; licking, sucking, bobbing. You enjoyed the way his cock pulsed inside your mouth.

“Fuck, angel.” Felix groaned, his sleepy voice deeper than ever, as he tangled his hands in your hair. “You’re being so good for me.”

You moaned at the praise, taking him deeper. Having his cock hitting the back of your throat, set your own body on fire. You were burning with both need of pleasing him and watching him fall apart because of you, and the need to have him buried deep inside you again.

“Fuck.” He hissed.

You sucked harder, savoring the taste of him, savoring his every grunt and curse, knowing it was because of you. You watched him through your teary eyes as his chest rose and fell and his muscles tensed.

“Love, I’d love to come in your mouth but right now, I’d rather come inside you.”

You moaned around him, tempted to completely disregard his request, but then, your own body was begging for him to fill you. You pulled away with a little pout. “Fine.” And then licked your lips.

“And they say demons are wicked.” He chuckled.

“I learn from the best.” You winked and grabbed his hot, hard cock, guiding him towards you. “Ah fuck.” You closed your eyes, slowly sinking down, letting him fill you up. “Feels so fucking good.”

Both of you groaned in unison. He gripped your hips while you started moving. Slow at first, taking a moment to enjoy each drag of his cock against your walls. It felt too damn good.

Soft moans filled the air.

Felix fought back the need to take control. It was just so tempting to flip you over and pound into you. But you looked so sweet, so lost in your pleasure – it stopped him. He let you set your own rhythm, watched as your body arched with each roll of your hips.

“I love you.”

And his words made you still and look at him. At your little demon. You willed your tears not to spill but your body had a mind on its own. Felix reached out, kissing your tears away. “My fabulous, little witch.” And he kissed the tip of your nose, and then your cheeks and then your lips.

Before you could mutter the ‘I love you too’ that was right on the tip of your tongue, Felix thrusted from bellow, a little harder, a little deeper – you threw your head back, moaning loudly. The delicious pressure built inside you, faster and faster. Until your orgasm crashed over you, powerful, mind-blowing.

Felix held you tighter as he came inside you. “I love you.” He repeated again in a whisper. His arms still around you, he let you recover, brushing gently your hair from your face.

“I love you too.”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #felix #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #stray kids fluff #let the world burn

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