#just finished my tears ricochet & then did this

[lovertaylorforever]

Midnight Thought

my tears ricochet was more to scott borchetta than scooter braun.

Dont get me wrong, they both were (are?) really horrible to her. But i feel like Scott's betrayal had to hurt way worse. Scooter didn't really try to make her think he was on her side. He tried to make the public think so, but not Taylor. Scott, though? They worked together for YEARS!! He might've "made" her (bullshit!), but she "made" him too! (I'm literally not getting into that, we all know all of the details already).

They'd had a real relationship before he sold her masters and we've all heard 'my tears ricochet.' It's got a lot of feeling and meaning and emotion and i can't remember if Taylor already scooter was an asshole or ig she just didn't really know of scooter at all before the whole thing happened. And being betrayed by someone you think you know is way worse than when it's someone random.

#yes i was listening to folklore again lmao #just finished my tears ricochet & then did this #harleys commentary (taylors version) #scott borchetta #taylor swift #scooter braun #folklore #my tears ricochet #midnight thoughts

[katierosefun]

remember when i said “tae seok and seon jae <3″ as a joke but now it’s not a joke and now i’m actively feeling so sad for them

#caroline watches kdrama #they're so messed up. they're going to make each other worse! #it's been an hour since i finished this show and i'm still thinking about the scene on the bridge #'you were never going to forgive me' and 'don't leave me alone again' like WHAT am i going to do about this #i think they're doing better but like god . . . . #alexa play getaway car by taylor swift alexa play hoax by taylor swift alexa play my tears ricochet by taylor swift #wait holy fuck no i just realized that hoax by taylor swift LITERALLY matches them . . . #stood on the cliffside screaming 'give me a reason' and so on and so forth . . . #YOU KNEW THE HERO DIED SO WHAT'S THE MOVIE FOR :( #YOU KNEW IT STILL HURTS UNDERNEATH MY SCARS FROM WHEN THEY PULLED ME APART :( #BUT WHAT YOU DID WAS JUST AS DARK!!! #don't want no other shade of blue but you :((( (and tae seok's color palette being all BLUE . . . FUCK!!!) #your faithless love's the only hoax i believe in . . . (seon jae and WHATEVER the fuck she has going on with tae seok) #no i feel so sad for seon jae #my gf deserves someone who loves her so completely

[yeeterthek33per]

That's how it's done (Sam Kerr x Reader)

A/n requested

The moment she strikes it, you know it's going in. The curl, the technique, the fact it was struck with such confidence despite being 30 metres out.

It curls perfectly, firing far past Cata Coll's outstretched glove, the net rippling with the full force of Sam's power shot.

1-0 to Australia. And just twenty minutes left of regulation time.

They'd been waiting months to see this, and you had to agree. Of course, it was never an expectation, only a hope and complete and utter faith in Sam and her teammates to take the world cup by storm.

Your screams and cheers are drowned out by the crowd around, the seventy-five thousand or so other people cheering just as loud for the star forward of the Matildas.

You were heartbroken for her when you found out about her calf. She'd called you the night before, tearfully whispering into the phone.

"I'm not gonna get to play for the first two games."

"What, why? What happened?"

"My calf, I got careless, and I tweaked it."

Your heart broke at not being able to be with her, to not be able to comfort her in person.

She held it together well for the others, but you knew it was killing her not being out there on the pitch.

So when she made her comeback, you were elated and more than happy to watch your girl run around on the pitch, free as ever and doing the work she loves the most.

The moment the goal is in, she's off in a run, slamming fist to her chest over the crest. Her teammates follow and when she spots you in the crowd, she takes off quickly towards you.

Her arms wrap around you, and without even questioning it, her lips meet yours hard.

Sam's grinning wide, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she pulls away from you.

"That's how it's fucking done, baby!" You yell out to her as she backs up.

The crowd around you are losing their minds. You hadn't been out to the world yet. It was something you'd both discussed but ultimately left it to finish with the World Cup first, not wanting to deal with the media behind it and any pressure it may add to your relationship.

You watch as she quickly returns to the lineup, but not without one last glance in your direction, a cheeky wink and salute, and one final wave to the crowd.

Of course, it got a little painful to watch her get her legs taken out from under every other minute. You winced every time she hit the turf, and as the ninety-minute mark crept, she had a harder and harder time getting up.

It's in the dying minutes of stoppage time that Spain gets their last and only chance to score. One corner is all it could take. You wait, tensing in your spot on the edge of your seat. The ball is sent in, and as expected, Mackenzie catches it, quickly running and sending a high and far lobbed ball to just end the game with.

What you don't expect is how far. It goes more astray than the Spanish were expecting, and Cata Coll, having moved into the opposing penalty box in hopes of scoring, is too far from her line to defend.

It flys far over the heads of the Spanish. And ricochets into the spanish net?

The looks of disbelief in the Australians' eyes are hysterical, and the celebrations are enormous as they all jump on their equally disbelieving keeper.

Mackenzie Arnold, first keeper to score in a World Cup final.

First ever goal from near the baseline of the opposing team. Your family around you are losing their minds, the crowd can hardly believe it themselves.

The whistle blows, not seconds after the game is reset. The Australians drop to their knees, some jumping up and down, sprinting to the group of their teammates now flooding the field.

They did it. They actually fucking did it. They won it all. At home. They won the fucking World Cup in Australia.

Your shoulders are shaken by several hands as you jump up and down beside Sam's siblings and her nephews.

You watch as Sam just collapses to her knees on the pitch, arms up, hands behind her head in what you assume to be utter relief and elation.

With the weight of the whole country behind them, you don't blame her.

You've seen how hard she works, you know how far she aims, you've been there on the tearful nights, the screaming and crying and release of bottled up emotion and tension from the pressure of the world on her shoulders.

So when she lets go of it all, tears stream down her face as the others scream and yell and cheer and bounce around in excitement, you expect it.

You're thankful she finally can let go of it all.

The stress, the tears, the expectation. It's all done.

The roar of the crowd around is insane. The sound drowning out any remnants of the outside world.

You watch as Sam gets dogpiled on, her teammates landing on her, screaming into her ears after the winning shot she scored. Cheering and yelling for their captain. Mackenzie is eventually yanked into her own pile.

The moment of pride you feel, one you've always felt in the past with Sam, is one of astronomical amounts now. Having the Kerr name splayed across your back, one day, splayed across the line of your marriage certificate and every other important document. Attached to your social media, attached to your name coming from people's mouths.

The green and gold jersey you're wearing has never felt more at home on you than now.

You've never been more proud of your girl for the comeback, the return, the firing up, the moment she achieved what she's been aiming for since she first kicked a soccer ball.

For completing a lifelong dream. Winning a World Cup. You were just along for the ride. And you'd never been happier to do so.

The players finally pull off her, standing up and separating to go about their own celebrations, a few moving to comfort the Spanish players, to which your hearts does break for quire a few of them.

You'd worked as a physio in Barcelona for four years for the FC Barca femini. You knew many of the girls well and as happy as you were for your country and your girlfriend. You were upset for the girls of La Roja too.

Seeing one of your best friends, Alexia, in tears, crouched with her head hung towards the ground, stung quite a bit. You were proud of them for coming this far, for doing it in spite of the asshole on the side of the pitch.

As much as your heart was torn between the two, your girl will forever have your heart first.

You'd met after her stint in Camp Nou for the champions league, and a few times after that when they versed each other. You eventually started dating after a Barca v Chelsea game in England.

Two years passed, and you made the move to London, taking up a position in a physiotherapy office, which you coincidentally came to find was the one her national teammate worked in while she was in London. Caitlin Foord.

You became fast friends, and now watching your other best friend win her first ever medal at a World Cup was just as ecstatic and elating.

As the celebrations continue, you spot Sam jogging over to the family and friends section. You step aside to let her nephews see her, but she isn't going for them. She strides right up to you instead.

"Baby, I'm so fucking proud of-"

You're cut off with a small squeak.

Her hands grip the collar of the jersey around you and pull you nearly over the barrier and into her. With one final questioning look in her eyes and a nod from you, your lips meet, of course she asks this time.

You can't stop yourself from grinning into the kiss, and it seems neither can she.

With all of the emotions flying, it doesn't surprise you that she's chosen now to reveal you to the world as hers. She's always been fiercly protective of you, not to mention a little possessive despite her usually laid back, playful nature.

So, presenting your relationship to the world was something she'd been thinking about doing for a while, but it was never the right time and she didn't want to add on to the stress of the looming World Cup, but now here you were, and here she was. World Cup winner.

And right now, in this moment, with the love she's pouring into the kiss, which you return with equal fervour, you're content with whatever outcome may happen after this.

When you break for air, she lets you relax a little the uncomfortable feeling of a barrier between the two of you getting to be a little much on your hips, which are protesting at the concrete constricting against them by now.

Your arms wrap around her, pulling her close to you, burying your nose into her neck as tears start to fall again.

You hold her for just a minute, and you feel the tension leaving her, her muscles relax as she just breathes you in.

She whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck and her voice a little shaky but otherwise makes you shiver slightly.

"You know, I don't think I tell you enough how much I enjoy seeing my last name between your shoulder blades."

You go to reply, but you're broken apart by her very insistent but adorable nephews, nearly climbing the barrier to get their favourite aunt.

Her sister gives you both a slightly apologetic look, but you instantly wave her off, happy to let the boys give the girl some love, too.

She steps away from the barrier, lifting them both up in her arms and walking back onto the pitch with them.

"Damn, they might actually steal my girl from me."

You joke, her sister chuckling and her older brother, Daniel, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah, don't worry, they steal Natasha from me when they visit too. They're too adorable for their own good."

"I'd be blissfully happy to let them have her honestly, she's so good with them."

Your heart races at the thought of your own kids in her arms someday.

Her sister Maddi nudges you softly.

"Watch those ovaries, they might burst."

You chuckle softly and give her a little nudge back.

"Yeah, they did that months ago. I love the way she is with them. Or just with kids in general, she's always so good to them."

"Thinking of some of your own some day?"

"I am. That's for certain. It's up to her, though. She's the one with an elusive career. I don't think we're ready right now, but maybe someday. If we do, I think I'd like them to see her get to hang up her cleats at the very least, witness their Mama's achievements."

Her sister just smiles down at you, a knowing look on her face.

"Think you'll marry her soon?"

You laugh a little at that.

"I hope so. She's got the ring buried in her gym bag. She's not as slick as she likes to think she is. But I'm happy to wait as long as it takes her to do it. Though, then again, I might propose myself in the meantime. I don't think my ovaries can take any more."

You gesture to Sam, throwing one of the boys in the air, making them laugh and squeal slightly before moving to kick a ball around with them.

"Honestly, if you don't, I think half the women in Australia would do it for you."

"Ha, make that half the women on planet earth. Have you seen some of the stuff they've tagged her in?"

"Yeeeah, I try not to. People thirsting over my sister is funny as hell but also gross. No thanks."

You throw your head back in a laugh.

"As expected."

Levi, Sam's other brother, pops his head in between you with a confused look on his.

"People do what over Sam?"

You give him a slightly incredulous look.

"Thirsting. Thirst over her? Really? You don't know?"

He shakes his head, a little weirded out.

"Your sister has been like, a few million gay womens' awakenings, did you not know that?"

"Uh, no, it's not exactly on the forefront of my mind."

You giggle and pat his cheek.

"You poor sweet innocent thing, don't ever change, whatever you do, don't look her up on tiktok. Or any social media for that matter. She made the mistake of doing it once. The look in her eye when I told her I used to be the one to browse that stuff too was freaking hilarious."

Maddi raises a brow at you.

"As far as I'm aware, you still do it, so you don't have a leg to stand on here."

You cackle at that.

"Hey, I'm not the one that makes them. I'm otherwise very happy to see slow-motion videos of my girlfriend's shirtless celebrations and backflips from the 2022 season."

Levi scrunches his nose.

"Gross."

You simply pat his shoulder and turn back to watch Sam and the award ceremony, watch as they all receive their medals, and as the confetti drops from the ceiling and out through the confetti cannons.

The screams of celebration and the shower of champagne afterwards are enormous. At that, you see the staff who are minding the two little toddlers take a few steps back with thema nd you chuckle softly.

She does eventually return the two boys to their mother, medal proudly splayed over her neck, and gives you one final kiss and hug, and you give her your congratulations before you all have to leave to head back to your hotels.

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

The afterparty is enormous, and you'd forgone showering and changing in favour of getting to see Sam quicker.

The music is blasting through your eardrums, and you have to take a few shots to try and numb it down a bit and by the time the team arrives, it looks like they've already had a few drinks themselves.

Sam is one of the last through the door, walking in to cheers from the crowd of friends, family and other invited guests.

Your breath hitches when you spot her. The suit jacket and untucked button down paired with black slacks and her air force 1s make her usual 10, though now increased with the levels of tequila you just downed, turn into much higher attraction levels.

A few minutes of watching her as she makes her way around the room, accepting congratulations, hugs, and chances to have a drink with friends, she finds you.

You give her a small wink and cheer your cup mid-air at her as she makes eye contact with you, still enveloped in conversation with one of the managers from Football Australia. She, to your astonishment, knowing how bad some of the higher ups get, manages to excuse herself and slip past the incessant suits to move to you, leaning against the bar.

Her grip quickly finds your hips, wasting no time to have her hands on you once again.

"Hi, my champion."

"Hey, Gorgeous." The tone of her voice is definitely slightly slurred, and you know they hit it hard in the locker room so it's a little more obvious to you.

"How are you feeling?"

Her expression changes to giddy smile.

"Amazing, like I'm walking on air here."

You down the last of the vodka soda you have beside you.

"Good, because you're coming with me."

You drag her by the hand onto the half packed dance floor, slipping in between an already drunk Alanna and Macca and a hyped up Kyra and Charlie.

The music swirls around you as you quickly join the dancing people around you. Sam stands behind you, hands landing on your waist and moving with you. Her hips meet yours in a shameless grind, and your arm comes up to pull her head down into your neck, her lips tracing the muscle on their own accord.

Exhilaration of the win settles in your chests amongst the dancing bodies of the Matildas teammates, and the thumping vibrations of the beat rattle your ears.

Her breath is hot on your neck, murmuring words of encouragement as you rock back against her.

The rest of the night turns to a blur as you party with the team into the early hours of the morning.

It's just a few hours later when Sam's hand grabs your wrist, tugging you away from the rest of the girls. You'd moved to dance with Caitlin just ten minutes previously, sharing several bottles of champagne between the two of you, the alcohol only piling onto your own intoxication.

The girl was all too happy to drink the night away with her best friend.

You whine softly when Sam pulls you away from said best friend, Caitlin mildly protesting as well, but seeing the look in her captain's eyes, just raises her hands in defeat.

Though she does wiggle her brows suggestively at you when she sees the rest of Sam's expression, which is locked on you. You giggle and give her a joking salute as you're walked away from the dance floor.

You're dragged out of the party and around the corner to an alley, your back pressed into the brickwork.

The kiss following has your head spinning, and your girlfriends hands waist no time slipping under the front of your her jersey.

"Fuck, I can't get you in that jersey out of my head baby."

A mischievous smirk crosses your lips as she pulls back enough to mouth at your throat.

"Yeah? The thought of me with your last name on my back, huh? Like it when I'm labelled yours?"

A growl rumbles in the back of her throat.

"You have no idea."

You chuckle and tug her back up to your mouth again.

"Take me back the hotel and show me?"

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

The beeping of an alarm the next morning makes your head throb, and you bury your face into the pillow below you with a groan.

The noise is quickly cut off, however, and a similar groan to your own joins the air of the hotel room.

Your eyes barely crack open, the spinning in your head setting in as you look around at the all too bright white walls mixed with the familiar bottle green of your girlfriend's national team uniform.

"Fucking christ babe, why the alarm at this hour?"

Sam barely responds from her spot buried beneath the covers beside you, her grumbling into her own pillow.

You shuffle across the mattress, moving to stand, but a hand on your wrist pulls you back. A soft whine from the forwards mouth makes you turn back to her.

"Stay, I don't have to be up til eight."

Knowing better, you check your phone on the bedside.

You curse suddenly, the night before a smatter of memories and ecstasies. As far as you could guess, you'd say it's only been about three hours since the two of would have hit the sack finally.

"Babe, it's 8:10. You definitely have to get up."

She's silent for a second, knowing you'd caught her bullshitting but doesn't move. You sigh softly and move closer to her.

"Alright, five more minutes, but we have to get up, we really don't want your teammates coming knocking again."

She hums and moves, so you're tucked into her chest, arm draped over your waist once again.

The warmth soothes your head a bit, and the nausea settles for now as you wrap yourself up in her.

You're happy to stay in the loving embrace for now. Lord knows she deserves the rest.

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

Sorry guys, they're kinda getting worse, I am trying to keep them simple without rambling too long like I tend to do 😅

I'm taking my time with them though.

Hope y'all enjoyed.

#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagines #sam kerr imagine

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 3/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This part is more angst, I’m sorry. I promise things will turn up eventually! I wouldn't put everyone through all this angst for nothing! Enjoy!

Summary: You're alive, but barely. Matt blames himself.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, canon-typical violence, vague wound descriptions/unconsciousness, friends arguing, post-season two/pre-Defenders era Matt, swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 1,193

Matt’s thankful for every beep on the monitor that he hears, but he can’t help but hate it. The robotic, cold monotone mocks him. It announces his shortcomings, his failures. He wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, good enough to save you or Elektra that night. Elektra’s dead, and the doctors aren’t exactly sure where you stand. You made it through surgery, a long surgery, but there was a lot of trauma and blood loss. A waiting game, they said. He’s always hated that phrase. Nothing attached to those words has ever been fun, only painful. And now it’s attached to you and your life. 

He remembers when he first met you at Columbia. You had walked by him in the hall, your pomegranate and honey shampoo catching his attention. When he went into his next class about a half hour later, you were there, second row to the front, just off center to the right. Matt’s feet led him to the open seat next to you, using his cane to push the guy with the expensive cologne away from the coveted free seat to your right. He gave you a small smile as he sat down, and he could tell you did the same, softly introducing yourself and making small talk until class began. It took you a while to tell him about your family and your background, and he could tell that you were nervous as you did, waiting for some kind of shoe to drop when you finished—maybe that you expected him to ask for money or if you could help him get a job somewhere. You didn’t expect him to appreciate you for you, only what you could potentially do for him. When he gave you a smile and cracked a joke, saying that he still wouldn’t let you pay for ice cream next time you guys walked through Central Park, you let out a little laugh. His heart skipped a beat when he heard that, how your posture relaxed, and when he sensed how you smiled back at him. After that, it was always you, him, and Foggy, and if Foggy wasn't around, Matt would manage to find his way to your side—it was a pace he never wanted to leave. A place that felt like home. Something he hadn’t really felt since his dad died.

But when Matt met Elektra, everything changed and he pushed you away. Part of Matt always thought you’d be there for him—you’re his friend through thick and thin, why wouldn’t you still be there for him? But when that relationship went up in flames and Matt needed refuge to lick his wounds and work through his feelings, you were long gone, tired of waiting for him to come around, hurt by the last person—the only person—that you thought you could really, truly trust. And now you’re here, barely hanging on because you re-entered his life at the wrong time.

He's a real fucking lucky charm, isn't he?

Matt leans back in the uncomfortable hospital chair, letting out a long breath as he lets a new wave of shame roll over him. Foggy puts a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Two people I love are hurt because of me,” Matt croaks, hanging his head. “Elektra is dead, and (Y/N/N) is barely hanging on.”

“We’d be in worse trouble if you didn’t do any of what you did on the rooftop,” Foggy tries to console him. Matt’s still surprised he’s in the same room as him after how he has treated his best friend and partner. 

“I ruin everything I touch, huh?” He angrily wipes away a tear.

“Matt, this was beyond anything anyone could have imagined. It—.”

“It’s the best if I stay out of all your lives. That way, no one else gets hurt. I won’t let anyone else down.”

“Matt, don’t be obtuse, that’s ridiculous.”

“But it’d be effective.” He sniffles and stands, putting his glasses back on. “It’s the way it has to be. It’s the only way I can keep people safe.”

“So what’s gonna happen when (Y/N/N) wakes up and wants to talk to you? ‘Sorry, he’s ghosting everyone because he’s going full Batman broody.’ She’ll need you—you were with her that night, you’re the only person who knows what kind of trauma she went through—.”

“And that’s exactly why I should leave!” he snaps. “You heard the doctor—she barely had enough blood in her to keep her organs in salvageable when she got here, and the blade absolutely shredded her internally. It barely missed her spinal column. She could have been paralyzed if it was a half inch over. It’s better for everyone if I disappear. She doesn’t have to see me and remember anything from that rooftop or remember everything I’ve done to her.”

“You don’t think she’d think about that without seeing you? And what about when she sees her scars? What about when she needs to talk to someone, to have a shoulder to cry on, because everything from that night haunts her? Who’s she gonna call when she has nightmares? No one knows what she went through but her and you. You can’t leave her alone again.”

“I didn’t leave her the first time.”

“Bullshit. You left. You chose not to stay. You cut her out cold. You weren’t around to see it, but that’s when she changed. That’s when she closed herself off, started to do everything her parents wanted. That’s when she lost herself. It was heartbreaking to watch that, Matt, but you wouldn’t know, because even after Elektra, you didn’t care enough to rebuild that bridge and see the damage you did.”

Matt’s voice is cold and low when he speaks next: “You have no idea how much I cared.”

“You say you care, but you’re so ready to let her suffer alone.”

“You don’t have a goddamn right to say shit like that. She didn’t want to see me.”

“How do you know? Did you try?”

“Foggy—.”

“There was still half of the school year left for you to fix things. You didn’t even try to—.”

“We’re done talking about this.”

“Right. Walking away because it’s easier and because it didn’t go your way. God forbid you actually have to address your feelings!”

“Excuse me?”

“You couldn’t juggle school and Elektra, so you were ready to throw it all away. Hell, you almost did. This time, you couldn't juggle your job and Elektra, so you walked away from the people who needed and relied on you. Now, when that fell apart even further, you’re walking away from the consequences and once more, the people that need you most." Foggy scoffs, venom dripping from his words. "You know what? It is probably best that you’re not here when she wakes up, because if you’re not even the person I called my best friend for years, you’re sure as shit not who she loved in college.” Foggy grabs his things as he walks toward the door, leaving Matt alone with his consequences that weigh him down like cement bricks in the Hudson.

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[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, neck/shoulder biting and marking if you’re squeamish about that, talking about like werewolf scenting and stuff, blood, brief kissing with blood on/around mouths, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc), and if you were able to survive changer, then you deserve a medal. and this is that medal, i suppose!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Sung.” You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, holding him close with no hesitation, even as his own arms were much slower to react. But once they did, he pulled you to him with a nearly crushing force, a strength that could all but make you forget that he was only half-werewolf.

Tonight, he’d let you stay with him for one of his shifts. It was exactly because he was half-werewolf that he’d even considered it in the first place, his shifts were much less intense than full werewolves, generally less violent and possibly dangerous for anybody who happened to be around him. He’d described it to you after the last full moon, that it was more just sort of painful, confusing, and sometimes sort of like when drunk-you left problems for sober-you, like drunk-dialing people or spending too much money online. Except in his case, werewolf-him generally destroyed smaller pieces of property like school notes or clothes. When he said that he always asked Shotaro to leave the night of the full moon, you asked if you could be with him the next time. It sounded terrible to have to do that alone every month. And to your surprise, he’d only responded with a weak ‘please?’

So when you’d arrived this afternoon, you’d taken everything out of his room that you feasibly could that he didn’t want to chew up: his bookbag, textbooks, nice sneakers, photo albums, laptop, etc. And then you’d locked the door, and stayed with him.

Now he was coming out of it—a glance at his bedside clock that had been knocked out of place but was otherwise fine told you that it was almost three in the morning. You cradled the back of his fully-human-again head, not minding the matted, damp hair.

“I’m right here,” you reminded him. “I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt him shudder as he let out what sounded like a whine of pain. It made you worried about him staying up on his own two feet. “Sung? Do you need to lay down?”

He didn’t answer, and you realized he might not be back at the point where he could speak yet. Before you could finish weighing your options of attempting to drag the 186cm still partially-shifted half-werewolf to his bed by yourself, he’d buried his face in your neck, opened his mouth, and was resting his set of sharp canines against the curve of where your neck met your shoulder.

You breathed in through your nose, hand still on his head as he just… waited. For what, you couldn’t say. He was still whining softly, though now there was a slight undertone of need cutting through the pain you’d heard earlier.

Your hand was still resting on his head, and you gently pulled him closer, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth against your skin. “It’s okay, Sung. Whatever you need. I trust you.”

Finally, he closed his jaw. But it wasn’t a bite at all, it was more like a toddler teething on something cold to soothe their aching gums while their new teeth grew in. It didn’t hurt; he certainly wasn’t breaking skin, and you doubted that any marks would be left. The worst damage would be slobber, you were sure. If anything, it just… tickled. Suppressing a giggle at the feeling, you stroked his hair affectionately.

“There you go, Sung. There you go…” You murmured quietly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay, baby…”

“Bite…” He finally let out a grunt that sounded akin to a real word.

“What? What was that?” You tried to pull your head back to be able to look him in the face, but he didn’t want to detach from you in the slightest, his whines becoming less pained and more pathetic. Giving up on the task, you shook your head just a little, “Never mind, sorry. But what were you saying, Sung? Something about biting? You didn’t chew anything up this time, actually. We kept you in check pretty well. Your wallet will thank us, I’m sure.”

Sungchan continued to mouth at your neck a couple more times before he gave another full body shudder and tremble, then fell to his knees. As wrapped up in each other as you were, you went down with him, your kneecaps only saved by the fact that he had a nice plush rug. Your forehead wasn’t so lucky, as it got cracked against his on the way down, and you bit your tongue as a result.

“Shit!” You hissed, but couldn’t even focus on your own pain for very long, because Sungchan was now leaning most of his weight forward onto you. You quickly readjusted hold him up by the underarms. “Woah, woah. You alright, Sung?”

“I… bite…” He groaned again.

“You bite your tongue too?” You guessed humorously, scooting to sit on the floor against his bed and ushering him to lay down with his head in your lap. Ideally, you’d be in the bed, not on the floor next to it, but this was close enough.

Sungchan curled up in your lap as if he’d forgotten how big he was, fitting as much of the top half of his body there as he could. It was as he turned over slightly onto his side that you finally got a good look at his face again and saw just how exhausted he looked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and his skin was warm, flushed, and drenched with sweat. You gently brushed the damp bangs away from his forehead with one hand, reaching your other up towards his nightstand. After fumbling around in the top drawer for a ridiculous amount of time considering you’d put it literally right on top, you finally grabbed the lunchbox filled with cold, damp washcloths and ice packs that you’d stored in there earlier.

Unzipping it, the ice packs were all melted, but the washcloths were still nice and cool, which was what you really needed. Taking the first one, you blotted it along Sungchan’s forehead, cheeks, and neck, following it up with fleeting touches of your hand to assess if it was really helping or not. Judging by the small, soft, not painful sigh he let out, it at least didn’t seem to be hurting.

“Y/N…” He panted, grabbing your wrist as you were pressing the washcloth to his cheek.

“Yep, I’m right here, Sung,” you reassured him, putting your other hand over his. “I’m right here, okay?”

“I…”

“Do you need something, baby? Water? Food?

“I want…”

You dropped the washcloth from his face to listen attentively. “Yeah, Sung?”

His eyes finally opened, letting you see that his irises were still the same glowing, burning amber as earlier in the night. Not quite out of his shift yet. He sat up until he was nearly level with your neck, breathing in deeply. His grip on your wrist tightened, then he all but collapsed back onto your lap again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Mm… I should… We should… I wan’ to…” He was slurring his words like he was drunk, chest heaving with every breath, and his grip on your wrist relaxed until he was loosely holding your hand, pulling it down to cradle your forearm to his chest like it was a stuffed animal. “Wan’… give you my mating bite… Y/N…”

You stared down at Sungchan with wide, dumbstruck eyes. As he slowly blinked, you could see that his eyes were still that same bright gold. He just shifted further up to try to fit more of himself in your lap, though, pressing his head against your stomach and wedging his shoulder in the gap left by your criss-crossed legs.

Even as you were so shocked, you curled up and readjusted to mold your body around him, one hand giving his head a soft, reassuring pat as the other rubbed up and down his arm, soothing over the surely tired muscles.

“You…” You trailed off in your attempt to get clarification, unable to even begin to try to rephrase it yourself. In packs, mated werewolf couples bit each other in elaborate rituals. Neither of you were any of those things. Could Sungchan even give a werewolf mating bite, as a half-werewolf? Could you receive one? You definitely couldn’t give him one back. Wouldn’t he want one back? Or maybe not? Not to mention he wasn’t in a pack and had never been in his life. What did a mating bite mean to him?

God, your head hurt, and you weren’t even the one who had gone through a werewolf shift tonight.

Sungchan took another deep breath, and long, slow blink, his eyes almost back to their normal brown color. “‘Cause I… I love you. I wan’ to… ‘cause I love you… my… Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered shut, and you heard his breathing even out as he finally fell asleep in just a few moments.

It didn’t seem like you’d get the answer to any of those questions tonight. And as much as the idea of going any longer without knowing made your stomach twist into painful, uncomfortable knots, Sungchan needed the rest. He wasn’t in the right state for any sort of conversation like that. There wouldn’t be any way he’d be able to answer your questions even if you could force yourself to ask them.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently peck his hair. “Your Y/N loves you too, Sung…”

Your back ached. You had a crick in your neck. And another one in your back. And another one in another part of your back. And yet another one in one more part of your back. You groaned, rolling over in bed to try to crack some of the kinks out without having to actually get up.

That gave you pause. There was definitely a mattress underneath you, blankets covering you, and a pillow supporting your head. But you remembered falling asleep on the floor next to Sungchan’s bed after his shift last night.

Squinting one eye open suspiciously, you saw that it was still very dark in his room, but you had without a doubt been mysteriously tucked into his bed. Much too tired to investigate past that, you pulled the blankets up over your head and buried your face in your pillow, very quickly falling back asleep.

When you woke up again, it was brighter outside, and at first you thought Sungchan had put a weighted blanket on you in the middle of the night. Odd choice, considering you didn’t have one on you the first time you woke up, or at least that you could remember. And then you realized that Sungchan was your weighted blanket.

Your boyfriend was fully snuggled up on top of your back, completely passed out, as you were dozing on your front. You couldn’t even roll him over, he was dead weight. With a sigh, you closed your eyes again, wondering if you’d be able to go back to sleep for a second—third?—time this morning.

“You up?” He mumbled in your ear, voice barely above a hoarse grumble.

“You’re awake?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

“So you’re suffocating me on purpose?”

He rolled off onto the mattress next to you, and immediately your lungs could work better. “Oh, so when you do it to me, it’s cute and I’m supposed to enjoy it, but when I do it, it’s attempted murder and ‘Ouch, Sungchan, get off of me, you’re crushing me with your big, huge werewolf muscles.’”

“So I don’t need to ask if you’re feeling better,” you scoffed, but nevertheless shifted onto your side to face him.

He wasn’t pink-faced and sweaty anymore, instead looking unnaturally pale, with dark circles under his eyes like he’d pulled two all-nighters in a row for finals week. You cupped his cheek, gently running your thumb under one of his eyes. His skin wasn’t warm to the touch, instead it felt the same temperature as yours—cold for a werewolf or half-werewolf.

“You’ve got a chill, Sung,” you observed with a frown, taking your hand back as you prepared to get up.

“It’s normal, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “Just uh… returning to homeostasis or whatever. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright… if you say so…” you sighed, staying put and pressing a kiss to his forehead, sneakily taking note of his temperature that way instead. “You can at least eat, right? Breakfast sound good?”

“Sure. In a minute.”

“You stay here, I’ll go make you something. Breakfast in bed. What’s better than that?”

He pretended to deliberate on this, then grabbed you with two arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “This.”

Tucked under his chin, you couldn’t look up to read his face, instead just staring at his t-shirt. “Really? You’re not hungry?”

“A little. But I won’t die if I don’t eat right now.”

“Are you implying that you’ll die if we don’t cuddle right now?”

“Yes,” he replied dramatically. “Absolutely. I’ll simply perish if I don’t get my Y/N time this instant.”

You couldn’t help but snicker at that, finally giving in. Not forgetting about his drop in temperature, you made sure to pull the blankets up around you two before you fully snuggled in, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“Alright, alright. Slow your roll on your imminent decay. I’m right here, Sung. Like I said last night, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You did say that, didn’t you?” He mused, tangling your legs together.

“Yeah, I did.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Uhm… How much do you remember about your shifts?”

“While I’m fully shifted? Not a lot usually. Immediately before and after? Depends. Why? Did I do something?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the feeling of his teeth on your neck, of him asking to bite you, to give you his mating bite. Did he remember that? Sungchan wasn’t bringing it up… Surely he’d mention it again now if he remembered, or was serious about it.

“Well, afterwards… you were kind of saying some stuff. I just didn’t know if you—”

“Hey… look at me?” Sungchan requested as he leaned back from you. When you’d picked up your head to oblige, he looked you in the eye with no hesitation, his face entirely serious now. “Of course I meant it when I said I love you. I’m sorry I said it to you for the first time looking like a hot fucking mess, and again now not in much better shape, but I mean it all the same. I love you, my Y/N. So much. So goddamn much I feel like I could explode if I don’t tell you every 5 seconds. Except you might get kind of tired of me if I did that.”

Despite it not being the words you were expecting to hear, you were beaming from ear to ear, even managing out a choked laugh through the happy tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.

“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry with how bad my confession was,” he joked, wiping at the first tear as it slipped down your cheek.

“Oh shut it!” You chastised him. “What have I told you about being a sweetheart?”

“Own up to it or don’t do it at all,” he recited dutifully. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you, so fucking much and I’m going to explode if you don’t say it back maybe? But no pressure? Also, I love you. And no pressure to say it back right now.”

“Oh my god, Sung, I love you too,” you laughed, grabbing his face in both of your hands to pull his mouth to yours. “So fucking much.”

Dr. and Mr. Jung lived in a two-story townhouse just a couple blocks over from campus. The old bricks on the face of it were a warm red, and as you got closer, you saw that there were shimmery flecks mixed into the rogue.

“How old are these buildings?” You asked Sungchan, reaching out to touch one of the bricks around the entryway. “There’s dragon scales in the brick.”

“There’s what?” Sungchan’s eyes widened, and you pointed to a particularly large chunk, about the size of the head of a thumbtack. It reflected amber in the setting sun.

“Dragon scales. They used to be incorporated into building materials to make them more durable. You know, before integration. There’s been really big debates at like, every open-door City Hall meeting about if we should keep buildings up that have dragon scale brick in them or not, since so many dragons had to be killed to make them.”

“Oh my god.”

“So far it looks like they’re going to move towards tearing down abandoned buildings made of dragon scale brick at least.”

“How-How many dragons? Were killed?”

“We have no way to know. And the thing is, you can gather dragon scales without hurting a dragon, it’s just not going to be enough to make dragon scale brick of any usable quantity.”

“So it should’ve never been made.”

“No. It shouldn’t have.” You turned away from the wall with a shake of your head. “Anyway, that’s why I was asking how old these homes are. They’re by the university, so pretty old, I guess.”

“I have no clue. You’d have to ask my parents.” Sungchan ushered you towards the door with a hand on the small of your back.

“I don’t think I will. Not incredible meet-the-parents dinner conversation, really.”

“As much I want to say they’ll love you anyway, which they would, I do have to agree with you. Maybe save the existential horror of the materials of their home for the second dinner.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Will do.” You nodded. “Now, are you going to knock on the door, or are we going to keep standing out here like we’re casing the place?”

“Oh, sorry, you can’t hear that. My mom’s—”

And then the sound of the front door unlocking came, and you looked up at Sungchan questioningly. It was opened by a face familiar to you only from pictures.

Dr. Jung was already beaming at you. “Hello! Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, Y/N. I was grading in my office and could hear you two coming up the steps, got a bit excited.” She gestured to the window next to the brick that you’d been discussing.

Dr. Jung was an economics professor at your university, though you’d never taken a class from her personally.

“I was about to give you a heads up,” Sungchan patted you on the back. “I heard her footsteps, that’s—”

“—why you weren’t knocking. Of course.” You nodded, then turned your focus back to Sungchan’s mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Jung.”

“You too, Y/N.” She was still smiling ear-to-ear as she reached forward to take your hands. “You’ll have to tell me more about the history of these dragon scale bricks, I truly had no idea.”

You looked at Sungchan in alarm, and he just shrugged. But she was already leading you into the house by your hand, your boyfriend trailing behind.

“Mom, I don’t even get a hug? No hello for your own son?” Sungchan complained dramatically, closing the door behind you three.

“Well since you’re going to be a big baby about it.” A man’s voice suddenly joined in as you had emerged from the front hallway into the living room. You turned around towards the stairs to see Sungchan’s dad standing on the bottom step, still not eye level with his son even with the added height. He wrapped his arms around Sungchan with an affectionate fake growl, and your boyfriend eagerly hugged his dad back.

Mr. Jung was a middle school science teacher, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Sungchan got his love for science from. He never said it specifically, but he’d told you plenty of stories of doing home science experiments with his dad as a kid.

“Hey, Dad.” He was grinning so brightly as he pulled away, then eagerly gestured to you. “Dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”

“Jung Yoonseo, how are you?” The other human greeted you. But your gaze got stuck on the dip of Mr. Jung’s shoulder, where his neck met shoulder, and two-thirds of a dark bite mark were visible above the collar of his shirt.

You tore your eyes away from the mating bite to look up at his face, smiling again. “I’m good, Mr. Jung, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m very well.” He nodded to you, starting towards the connected kitchen.

“Oh, honey, Y/N was just telling me that apparently our home is made of dragon scale brick,” Dr. Jung pulled you into the kitchen as well.

Mr. Jung turned around from where he’d started peeling a vegetable to look at his wife curiously. “Sorry, you said dragon scales, Jieun?”

“Yes! Go on, Y/N. I didn’t catch much of what you were telling Sungchan, I came to get you all as soon as I heard that you’d arrived.”

You looked to Sungchan imploringly, but he just shrugged again, then mouthed something that looked like ‘go for it’ to you. So you inhaled, and went for it.

“Dr. and Mr. Jung, do you two know how old your house is?”

“I think that went pretty well,” Sungchan declared as the two of you walked down the sidewalks hand-in-hand later that evening. He had a bag filled with containers of leftovers in his other hand.

“Glad you think so. I felt like Renjun, giving people impromptu lectures at the most out-of-pocket times,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, and they loved it. My parents are big nerds like you.”

“You’re literally a STEM major.”

“Point taken.”

“So your dad wasn’t just being nice when he invited me over for tea, then?”

Your boyfriend looked down at you with wide eyes. “When did he do that?”

“When you and your mom were packing up the leftovers and he was showing me the backyard. I forgot how it came up, but I’d mentioned the boba shop, and he said if I liked tea, then I was welcome to come over for a cup anytime. Since he’s still on summer break and everything.”

Despite the smile that had creeped across his face as you spoke, you furrowed your brow suspiciously.

“What? What are you smiling for?”

He surprised you by smooching your temple loudly. “I was wrong. It didn’t go pretty well. It went great.”

“Being invited over for tea is a good sign?” You asked cautiously.

“Definitely.” He stopped the two of you on the deserted sidewalk, letting go of your hand just to immediately seize your waist, pulling you towards him. The surprised noise you were about to make got muffled by Sungchan sealing his lips over yours. You curled a hand around the back of his neck as the other gripped onto his forearm for some kind of stability as he kissed you breathless.

As he pulled back to look down at you with that same big, tender grin, you couldn’t help but let out an airy giggle.

“And what was that for?”

“I love you. And do I need a reason to kiss my amazing, beautiful girlfriend?” He punctuated each of the last three words with more kisses to your cheek this time, making you giggle again.

“Like that, in the middle of the street? Yes.” You pinched his side teasingly, earning a laugh as he squirmed away from your touch. You made sure to tack on an, “I love you too, Sung.”

“We’re not in the street, we’re on the sidewalk.”

Before you could give your retort, he’d caught your lips in another sweet kiss, and all banter was gone from your mind.

“Are you staying at my place?” Sungchan asked when you’d finally restarted your journey.

“Let’s do my place tonight, hm?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.

He tilted his head, an adorable, confused pout on his face. “Why?”

“Because I don’t have some poor roommate that we’ll be annoying.”

“Says the girl who used to specifically ask if Shotaro was going to be home before she’d agree to come over,” he snickered.

“I did that because I had a huge crush on you and you’d friendzoned me, you ass.” You elbowed him in the side teasingly. “Having Taro there made it easier to ignore the aching hole in my chest whenever I looked at you, you dick.”

You landed a gentle mock punch that was in actuality a light tap to his chest, but Sungchan was no longer laughing. He looked down at you, pensive sadness on his features.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to articulate how much I regret putting you through that. You didn’t deserve to ever feel… an aching hole, because of me.”

“Ah, Sung.” You hugged his arm to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder as you walked. “I know you would’ve never done that to me on purpose. But if we can’t laugh about it—about the uh, admittedly kind of funny scenario we put ourselves in before we started dating—then we’ll never be able to really move past it. We’re together now, and that’s what really matters.”

He sighed. “I agree. I just… I don’t think I’m past the feeling bad part yet.”

“That’s okay.” You squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Just don’t beat yourself up on my account. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice.

“So, my place?”

“I just remembered that my mom put in some leftovers for Shotaro. Kelp rolls.”

“We should probably take that to him, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Hopefully that’ll be enough to counteract us existing around him.”

Shotaro was enthused to receive his kelp rolls, not even commenting on you staying the night as he excitedly took his food into his room.

“You want something to eat?” Sungchan asked as he put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.

“No. I ate plenty at your parents’ house.” You shook your head. Stretching and yawning, you started towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You make your little post-dinner snack. Feed your half-werewolf metabolism. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Feel free to take a sweatshirt or something.”

“Way ahead of you.”

Your boyfriend found you a few minutes later already curled up in his bed, bundled up in just one of his oversized hoodies. He scooted in next to you, encouraging you to move your head from the pillow to his lap as you went to snuggle up to his side instead.

“Whatcha eating, Sung?” You mumbled, mouth splitting into another yawn. All you could tell was that he had a bowl of some kind of finger food, as he’d brought no utensil in with him.

“Some fruit. Strawberries, honeydew, blueberries… Oh, you want a grape?”

“I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re not trying to fatten me up to eat, you know?” You said teasingly. “Like some mix of the witch from Hansel and Gretel and the big bad wolf from Little Red Riding Hood…”

“Banana slice?”

But you knew it was just his instinct to feed you, so you always indulged him to a certain extent—not so much that you felt like you were going to burst, but enough to calm his need to know that you were well-fed.

“Mm, grape.” You opened your mouth like a baby bird. He deposited the fruit on your tongue, but due to how you were laying, it landed more-so on the inside of your cheek. You had to sit up and prop yourself up on an elbow to chew and swallow properly without choking, but then promptly laid back down, nuzzling your face into his thigh.

Just a few seconds later, he asked you through a full mouth, “Baby? You want another?”

“I’m good, Sung, thank you,” you replied sweetly. “Your dad’s a really good cook, I ate a lot at dinner.”

“Yeah, he is,” he agreed proudly.

“Now finish your food so you can cuddle me to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And less than ten minutes later, you were laid on your side, pulled flush to Sungchan’s front, your back to his chest and your legs tangled together. You had one of his arms ensnared, fingers laced loosely with his as you wrapped the limb tighter around you. His face was buried in your neck, planting absentminded kisses to your skin as you were gently floating between waking and sleep.

“I used to think you liked him, for a little bit, you know,” Sungchan murmured next to your ear, clearly a sudden blurting from his own train of thought that you weren’t privy to.

Oh, this sounded like a conversation. You squinted your eyes open blearily, turning over in his arms to face him. Throwing a leg over his to pull him closer, you offered him a sleepy smile and asked, “Who?”

He readjusted to keep holding you like that, one hand resting where the bottom of the hoodie had ridden up around your hip, settling on your thigh. His thumb and forefinger messed with the hem of the sweater, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in the dim light as he swallowed.

“Shotaro. Since you’d always ask if he was going to be at the apartment. But your heartrate never went up around him.”

You hummed in amusement, reaching out to gently pinch the tip of his nose. “Endearing that you were listening to my heartbeat to figure out if I liked your roommate.”

“But it did… go up around me sometimes. I knew that,” he confessed, his eyes locking on yours, desperate. Like he was searching, asking you for something. Absolution, penance, maybe. “And it made me happy. Even though I had told myself that I shouldn’t have you. It still… made me happy at first, but then it’d make me sad. That you hadn’t moved on. Because I thought you’d deserved to move on.”

But he’d done no sin that you needed to cleanse him of in your eyes. He was a guy who made a few mistakes and then finally made the right choice. After you smacked him upside the head with it, but nobody was perfect. The person who really needed to forgive him was himself. He was still stuck in the past, seemingly afraid that he could lose you at any moment. But he wasn’t going to, and you wished he would just believe that.

“But you got me now,” you promised, cradling his face and wishing he could feel just how much you really meant those words.

“I do.” He brought his hand up to cover your own, and you felt like you could cry. “I do got you now.”

“And I’ve got you.”

“You’ve always had me. I just hadn’t told you yet. But you’ve always had me,” Sungchan admitted with a bittersweet smile, curling his hand around yours.

You surged forward to close the minute gap between the two of you, kissing him so hard that your lips hurt. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands grabbed at his shoulders, his clothes, anything to pull him closer to you. He was hugging you tight to him, thank god, because it felt like you could never be close enough. Your bones ached with a need to break the laws of physics and exist in the same time and space as him, and a tiny part of you believed that if you just wanted it enough, if you tried hard enough, maybe you could.

“You know, I thought all I’d feel was relief when you and Sungchan finally got together, but instead I’m plagued by near constant nausea.”

You stopped in your tracks in the hallway. You’d been trying to quietly pee then hurry back into Sungchan’s room the next morning, but instead, you spun around to face Shotaro, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

He was standing in front of his door at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest.

“Maybe go see a witch about that. It sounds serious,” you wrinkled your nose teasingly. Thankfully you’d had the wherewithal to pull on a pair of sleep shorts you had stashed in Sungchan’s drawers before leaving his room that morning.

“Yeah, that and my recently developed insomnia, too,” he scoffed. “Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep, you know.”

Your skin burned as you started shuffling backwards towards Sungchan’s room. “Sorry! Bye!”

You slammed the door behind you, startling Sungchan awake.

“Huh?” He blinked sleepily, lifting his head to look around.

You launched yourself back into bed, burying your face in the pillow in shame.

“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” Sungchan’s voice was thick and deep this early in the morning, but you couldn’t even focus on that. He rubbed your back soothingly as you shook your head.

You turned your head just enough to clear your mouth to speak. “We should’ve gone to my place... No roommate...”

“Oh, Shotaro giving you a hard time?”

“‘Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep.’” You did your best Shotaro impression. “I don’t think it was enough kelp rolls.”

“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry, baby.” Sungchan kept rubbing your back, but you could hear that he was holding back laughter.

You rolled onto your back, shooting him a glare before staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I always let you talk me into staying at your place?”

“Because you love me,” he replied in a sing-song voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheekbone, near your hairline.

“Yeah, but I mean, why do we always end up at your apartment, Sung? Why do you never want to come over to mine?”

The teasing dropped from his tone as he straightened up slightly. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I like spending time with you, no matter where we are. We could be in the cold vacuum of space, and I’d be fine with it as long as we were hanging out. And, in space suits so we didn’t die, you know. But, it’s just... I don’t know, I like having you here. In my space. It feels like everything’s right in the universe, like I know everything will be okay, that you’re going to be okay. As stupid as that sounds—”

“No, Sung, it’s not stupid.” You shifted to face him, brushing some hair back from his face. The same anxiety that you’d seen the night before was painted across his features again, and you didn’t like that you were seeing it more and more often. His sentiments weren’t stupid, they were loving, but the root of them concerned you. Was he constantly plagued by worries of something bad happening to you?

“Not at all...” You reiterated softly, running your thumb over the crease between his brows. “Sung? Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you have class today but… can I stay here? While you’re on campus? Then we can do something together when you get back. We can go downtown or something.”

You could feel his face relax again under your touch, and he nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, of course. If you think you can handle being around Shotaro for that long. He’s off work today.”

“I’ll manage, somehow.”

When it was finally time for Sungchan to go to class, though, you encountered an issue.

“Sung, you need to go to class,” you sighed, nudging him from where he had his arms wrapped around you. You’d been lounging on the couch when it struck time for him to finally depart for campus, but you were now dealing with a clingy werewolf.

“The professor doesn’t count attendance for a grade,” he grumbled. “I can skip.”

“You literally said this morning that you had a quiz today.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did, you liar,” you scoffed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And you need to go take that quiz.”

Shotaro, meanwhile, was observing the entire thing from the threshold between the living room and the hallway, a fascinating mixture of equal parts disgust and amusement on his features. You looked at him pleadingly for any kind of assistance, and he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless helped you anyway.

“Sungchan, dude, seriously,” Shotaro sighed, his tone on the border of exasperation and understanding. “Y/N’s wearing your clothes, staying in our apartment, and you haven’t let her go for I think the past four hours straight, not even to pee. You’ve scented her up enough to last the next month, a few hours will be fine.”

Your jaw set as there was a sudden spark of recognition in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t follow that train of thought in the moment. Sungchan loosened his grip on you, sitting up and blinking as if woken from a trance. “R-Right. Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, Sung,” you smiled, standing up and yanking him to his feet as well. You practically dragged him towards the front door, shoving his backpack in his hands. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”

He looked down at you with a small, fond smile as well, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Bye, love you.”

“I love you too.” You got up on your tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss goodbye, and he wrapped an arm around you for a hug. You were worried that this was about to be another borderline hostage situation, but he took one more inhale near your neck, then let you go and straightened up.

“Okay. See you in a few.” He said, his hand on the door handle.

“Go, Sungchan.”

“Fine, fine. Bye.”

And with that, he was finally gone. You turned back around to Shotaro, letting out a sigh of relief. The siren just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Werewolves, dude.” He flopped onto the opposite side of the couch from where you and Sungchan had just been.

You sat back down, kicking your feet up and pulling out your phone. “Yeah. Werewolves...”

Shotaro started flicking through a streaming service to try to find something to watch. “Hey wait, shouldn’t he be scenting you less since he’s a half-werewolf?”

“I... don’t know,” you admitted. “There’s not really any sort of research on half-werewolves. We don’t know anything about what they ‘should’ be like. Not even one of those unethical case studies from the 1800s.”

“Huh. But like I was saying earlier, you two make me nauseous.”

“Just put on your trashy reality TV that we know you’re going to pick after scrolling around for 30 minutes.”

“The browsing is part of the experience.”

As Shotaro browsed on the TV then eventually picked a show, you searched on your phone. The Real Sirens of Diamond Bay was great background noise as you dug through the internet, and you barely even realized the time until your friend was calling for your attention from the kitchen.

“Hm?” You looked up from the forum post that you’d been reading.

“I asked if you wanted lunch.” He opened the fridge, taking out the containers of leftovers you and your boyfriend had brought home last night. “Or if only Sungchan could feed you.”

“Yeah, sure, I could eat.” You joined him in the kitchen, stretching out your back. “So you noticed that too, huh?”

“Oh, the pre-mating behaviors? Well, you did give me a very convenient list when you were still in your denial phase.”

You punched his arm, making him nearly drop the plates he’d just gotten from the cabinet.

“Ow!” He rubbed the spot with a pout, handing you one of the dishes. “Rude... I’m feeding you food from my fridge.”

“No, I’m letting you eat my leftovers,” you corrected him. “Dr. Jung made us take all the steamed buns because she knew they were my favorite.”

Shotaro had been loading said steamed buns up onto his plate, then started shoveling the rest of them onto yours. “Calm down, I wasn’t taking them all.”

You looked at the empty container with a sigh, putting half of yours back. “Well, we can’t just leave nothing for Sung.”

After you’d made your plates with minimal bickering and warmed them up, you took them to the small dining table in the corner of the living room to eat. Shotaro continued playing the episode he’d been on for ambiance as he engaged you in conversation.

“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” He asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”

You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”

“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”

“Gross.”

“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”

“Does it ever stop?”

You grimaced, “Well…”

“No?” Shotaro asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.

“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.

“After…?”

“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”

The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”

“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”

You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”

“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”

You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…

“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.

Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”

“Shotaro—”

“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”

“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”

“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”

“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”

You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”

“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”

“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”

“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”

“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”

“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”

“I… need to talk to some other people, I think.” You turned your eyes downwards as you tried to really think about it.

“That wasn’t a no! Hell yeah! I’m so going to be Sungchan’s best man!”

You rolled your eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

As you finished up your lunch, your mind wouldn’t stop turning over what Shotaro had said. If Sungchan had been serious, would you say yes? You knew from class what the bite meant to werewolves within packs, but did it mean the same thing to Sungchan since he was half-werewolf? Did that even make a difference? Not to mention that you weren’t any part werewolf, the exchanging of bites was supposed to be an entire ritual similar to a couple exchanging rings on their wedding day. You couldn’t exactly bite him back. And the couple online was already legally married anyway…

Well, you did know one other werewolf/human couple that you could talk to, at least. You quickly texted Jeno.

[you: hey, are you home right now?]

Miraculously, he texted back almost immediately.

[jeno: yeah, just got back from a run]

[jeno: why?]

[you: mind if i come over really quick? need some advice on something with sung]

[jeno: oh sure]

[jeno: everything okay? should i have tissues out…?]

[you: omg no like werewolf stuff]

[jeno: oh good]

[you: thanks though. be over in a few]

Standing up from the couch, you stood off to the side of the TV so you didn’t block Shotaro’s show as you announced, “I’ll be right back.”

The siren gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement as his focus remained on the screen. You nodded before hurrying to pull your shoes on. The last thing to do before leaving was shoot off a text to Sungchan.

[you: hey sung, i’ve got a quick errand to run. i should be back before you get home from class, but just in case i’m not, i’ll be coming right back to the apartment! love you!]

“Hey, Jeno, thanks for having me over on such short notice.” You offered your friend a nervous smile as you stepped into his apartment.

“I’m not your professor that you’re seeing outside of his office hours, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up? You said it’s something about Sungchan?”

“Is your girlfriend here?” You looked around the living room as the two of you sat down.

Jeno tilted his head curiously. “No, she’s at the bakery this afternoon. Did you need her too?”

“Not necessarily, it’s just...” You dropped your head into your hands, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Try to start at the beginning?”

“Right. Sung let me be with him on the last full moon.”

“Wow. I haven’t even done that.” Jeno sounded genuinely impressed.

“Well… Uhm, do you know? About Sung?”

He stared at you blankly. “Need you to be way more specific here. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

You tried to pick your words carefully to give him enough of a hint if he did know without outright telling him if he didn’t know. You were sure that Sungchan wouldn’t mind if Jeno knew that he was half-werewolf, but you still didn’t feel like that was your place to go around telling people. “About his parents?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Your friend nodded in recognition. “Half-werewolf, that’s why he was able to have you there, duh.”

“Anyway, when he was coming back out of the shift afterwards, he mentioned us... he mentioned the werewolf mating bite.”

His eyes widened as he took a short inhale before slowly starting with, “Well, I can tell that you two haven’t done that.”

“I figured. So, with Sung being half-werewolf, he’s been having a difficult time with the scenting. I think because he can smell it enough to notice it, but not as strongly as full werewolves...”

“He would have a higher threshold for scenting in order to register it, right. Hence your current attire, I’m guessing?” Jeno gestured to the large black leather jacket you were currently drowning in, which was much too hot for the sweltering summer heat that was still going on outside, but still a better option than the hoodie you had previously been in.

You gave a resigned, what-can-you-do smile. “Yeah. And he’s not going to say anything about it, but I know he’s going to be stressed when I see him after this and he can smell you and Jaemin.”

“Oh, definitely.” He snorted lightly, not judgmental, but more sympathetic. “Let me guess: he gets all needy and clingy? Likes to bury his face in your neck?”

“Exactly. And the cuddles would be nice but, I don’t know... I hate seeing him like this, you know? So... anxious. It’s not like him.” You sighed, beginning to feel more guilty the longer you stayed here and got wrapped up in the smells of other people.

“It’s the first time in his life the wolf side is in charge of him and not the other way around. He’s really understanding what it’s like being a full werewolf outside of the full moon, of course he’s not having a good time.”

“Is it like that for you? With her?”

“Kind of. I can smell everything better, so I can smell the subtler things. Without going into too much detail, all those instincts aren’t on edge for me as much as Sungchan’s are right now. And we also figured something else out.”

“Something else?” You asked curiously. Last time you saw Jeno’s girlfriend, you couldn’t remember her having a bite mark. But maybe there was something that hadn’t been covered in your classes. After all, several millennia of the cultures, histories, and customs of fourteen species just couldn’t be fit into one undergrad degree. Your bachelor’s was nothing more than a survey of the two fields, to give you the broad strokes and the tools to start wading in.

Jeno pulled on a leather cord that you hadn’t even noticed was hanging around his neck, bringing a pendant out from under his collar. It was a pale white stone, flat, the size of a coin, with opalescent flecks that caught the light as he showed it to you.

“Moonstone. We have matching ones. They’re even enchanted so that when I…” he wrapped his whole hand around the stone “…hold onto it a little tighter, it reacts, and she can feel hers warm up too. So she knows I’m thinking about her.”

“And it helps with your shifts. That’s really sweet, Jeno,” you said, watching as he tucked it back under his shirt, presumably to keep it in skin-to-skin contact so he could feel if she squeezed her gem back in response.

“But that’s what works for us. It needs to be whatever works for you guys.”

You looked down at your fingers nervously. “But you two haven’t even…”

“I haven’t bit her?” The werewolf said bluntly.

“Yeah, and you’ve been together for a lot longer than us.”

“We’re not you and Sungchan. We may have set you guys up, but we’re not you.”

“You set us up? What?” That little off-hand comment had stolen your focus for the moment.

Jeno’s brow furrowed. “Did you never get the full story of how you got sent on that first blind date with him?”

“I mean, Jaemin had shown me a picture of him from your Instagram account, and I knew that you two knew each other through your girlfriend. But no, I guess I never did get the whole story. Jaemin said something about a deal, I think…”

His wide eyes and ‘oh shit’ face said it all. With a wince, he sighed, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this…”

“What? Jeno, come on,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together in front of you like you were kneeling at an altar.

“Ah, fine, fine.” He gave in easily, regret immediately coming to his features as you perked up, eager to hear the story. “We were all playing soccer one day and her—” he jerked his thumb at the empty space on the couch beside him that the both of you had both been vaguely referring to whenever you mentioned his girlfriend. “—and Sungchan made this bet. You see, something had happened at the park that day. There was another werewolf there, and he called my girlfriend something nasty. And Sungchan was saying that because of stuff like that, he wanted to just stick with dating other werewolves. He also kept saying something about love making my brain rot. It made sense in context. Sort of.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt Jeno for fear that you’d get him off-track and lose your opportunity.

“Anyway, they made a bet that if she was on Sungchan’s team and did her best in the game against me, then Sungchan would let her set him up on one blind date with anybody, werewolf or not. And he wasn’t allowed to intentionally bomb it, he had to actually put in a genuine effort.”

“And I was that date…” You surmised, several pieces falling into place. Specifically, Jaemin and Donghyuck’s initial pitch of Sungchan to you.

“Jaemin suggested you, and we thought the two of you would be a good fit.”

You added humorously, “And I’m not a werewolf.”

“Well, yeah.” Jeno ducked his head sheepishly like he was a puppy that was afraid you were going to notice the shoes that he had chewed up behind him. “But we really did put a lot of thought into it, I swear. And then when we heard he made you walk out in ten minutes, we were actually going to make him go on another one because we thought that he had sabotaged his one with you.”

“Amazingly, no, I think that really was his best effort at the time.” You snickered.

“Now I feel like I have to apologize for subjecting you to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he said he didn’t want to go on another date, he had to fix things with you first. She let up on him after that. Apparently believed his mind had been changed.”

“I don’t know how a ten-minute conversation where he practically accused me of being a werewolf fetishist for dating two werewolves, and I asked about his major and told him about my cheating ex could’ve possibly changed his mind but— Hey, look how far we’ve come.”

“And now you know the story of how you two ended up on that ten-minute, awful, terrible blind date that I almost wish we didn’t send you on now that I’ve heard what happened on it.”

“I’ve had worse dates.”

“But like I was saying. We—” he pointed between himself and the empty space proxy of his girlfriend “—are not you two. Just like in human relationships, the big steps happen at different times for everyone, there isn’t one right answer to when a werewolf couple take on each other’s bites. There’s even less of a blueprint for werewolf-human couples. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Sungchan? A half-werewolf and human couple? You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.”

“Unprecedented…” You repeated to yourself, drumming your fingers along your knee.

You and Jeno chatted for a few more minutes about this and that, but you soon decided that you’d have to be going. Sungchan had texted you the full sequence of finishing class, leaving campus, and arriving home while you’d been talking, and there was a pinch at your heart as you could imagine him getting more anxious with each passing minute that you weren’t there. And then there were the smells that you were going to have to deal with once you did return, too.

As Jeno walked you to the front door, your eyes drifted over to the kitchen, an idea popping into your head.

“Hey, Jeno? Can I have a glass of water?”

“Sung?” You called out into the seemingly empty apartment as you turned to close and lock the front door up. “I’m— oof!”

You were knocked off kilter by 186cm of werewolf, barely catching yourself against the door on your forearms to avoid bonking your forehead into it. Sungchan had his arms wrapped around your waist, already nosing around your hair and neck.

“Hi…” Sungchan said against your cheek, his tone apologetic. He got too excited, he didn’t mean to almost KO you like that.

Slowly, you reached over to finish flicking the deadbolt into the locked position. Then, you blindly stretched a hand back to pat him on the head. “Hey, hey.” You kept your voice calm and soothing.

He was getting down to the collar of the shirt you were wearing—one of his t-shirts, and you could feel him shifting to hold you tighter. He’d definitely noticed something was off.

“You know, I’m really sorry, Sung,” you began, turning your tone mournful and looking down at the wet patch on the front of your shirt. “I know this is your shirt, I feel really bad about this, but I spilled water on myself while I was out. Do you think I can throw this one in your wash here and borrow a new one?”

He immediately perked up at this, “Yeah, of course!”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

Success.

After your dinner and night out together in downtown, you ended up back in Sungchan’s room, fitted in your new crewneck sweater—this one for a concert he’d gone to last year. You were reclined between his legs against his chest as you half-watched him game, half-scrolled on your phone, and half-snoozed. You’d been playing the game in multi-player mode with him earlier but put your controller aside some time ago when you’d let out a couple loud yawns. Ruminating thoughts of your conversation with Jeno had kept you from fully falling asleep, though.

“Sung?” You waited for a pause on a loading screen to call for his attention.

“Mm?” He hummed back to let you know he was listening, even as the new map loaded in. He hadn’t moved his character yet, fingers frozen as they hovered over the buttons.

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.” Your boyfriend quickly saved and exited the game, setting the controller beside yours on the nightstand.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you tighter to him, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waited attentively for you to start with whatever you needed to talk about. You could hear him take a pause to sniff the air around you, and a small, disgruntled sound came from the back of his throat almost immediately.

“Face-to-face?” You requested quietly.

“Right, sorry.”

He loosened his arms, reluctantly letting them fall from around you.

Pushing yourself up off his legs into a full sitting position, you turned around in place, still finding yourself between his thighs. He straightened up a little bit from his spot against the headboard.

You reached out to take his hands in yours. “This is something that really stresses you out, isn’t it? The smells?”

“It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like…” He took one of his hands back to run his fingers through his hair, and your chest hurt to see the distress on his features. “Imagine being able to constantly see something right in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, you can’t actually look at it. You know it’s there, but you can never actually get a proper look. Humans never know it’s there, and werewolves get to look at it head-on. But I don’t get either. It’s terrible.”

“Ah, Sung… That sounds awful, baby.” You grimaced sympathetically, unable to imagine how wound up and panicky he must be all the time. You just wanted to cut this conversation short right now to wrap your arms around him, rub his back and tell him you were never going to leave him again. But for right now, all you could do was squeeze his hand tighter, and hope he got the message.

“I know that sometimes you smell right and sometimes you don’t. But I don’t know why, usually. And it’s not like you smell bad like you need a shower or anything. But like… ah, I can’t describe it.” He groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t even know what I’m smelling all the time. But it’s just—”

“Not right. I get it, that made sense. And it’s better when I wear your clothes, or spend time with you? Here?”

“I’m sorry…” He said weakly.

“Woah, hey, where in there was I asking for an apology? I’m trying to figure this out together, okay? Not make you feel bad for being unable to turn your nose off. I don’t like that you’re this stressed all the time, you know?”

“In my normal, thinking brain I know you should—and I want you to—be able to wear whatever clothes you want to wear. And I’m glad that you’re spending time with your friends, and I want to go wherever you want to go, whether that’s out somewhere, or to your place. I loved our date night out tonight. It’s not those actual things that bother me at all, it’s just that you smell different.”

“I know, I know.” You reassured him, continuing to hold his hand and gently rubbing his forearm with your free hand. “So maybe there’s something more permanent we can do to help you with the smells?”

Sungchan met your gaze uncertainly. “Permanent?”

“You mentioned it after your last shift. Me taking your bite. I found one other half-werewolf/human couple who did it, online, and they said it helped with the scent anxiety.”

“Y/N…” He breathed your name out.

“I understand if you’re not ready for it. I know it’s a really big step for werewolves. But I had to put it out there, if there’s any possibility that it’ll help.”

“This is not how I imagined this conversation going at all.”

“What?”

“The human reassuring the werewolf that it’s okay if the werewolf isn’t ready for a mating bite yet.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh my god. We really are one-of-a-kind, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle too. “When you put it like that, that is pretty funny. You thought you were going to have to convince me, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to badger you into it if you didn’t want it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I didn’t bring it up again after my last shift because I wanted to do it more… I don’t know, romantically than being a sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess in your lap. I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet because I’ve been too focused on spending every spare second I can with you.”

“I thought you were a very cute sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess when you asked me last time,” you giggled.

“Right, thanks.”

“So, do you want to do it, then?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

Jeno’s words came back to you: You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing anything any specific way, Sung. We just do it. But if you want to ask me, go for it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. After a few beats of silence, though, you pinched his thigh teasingly, “I’m waiting.”

“What—Right now? Really putting me on the spot.” Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well when else—”

“No, I’ve got it.” He squared his shoulders, face turning serious as he turned his eyes to you. Briefly kissing the back of your fingers first, he began, his voice much shakier than you had expected, “Y/N, I’m ready to give you my mating bite, if you will accept it. But I don’t want it to just be me biting you. I-I want you to do whatever you need to do to make it feel complete to you, too. Since you can’t give me one back. If that’s okay with you?”

Despite you (mostly) knowing what was coming, you still unexpectedly found yourself tearing up as you went to nod your head yes. “Of course, Sung. That’d be perfect, yes. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out, but yes, I love that.”

“I love you.”

You stood up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss before burying your face in his collar. “I love you, too.”

Sungchan hugged you back tightly, pulling you back with him into almost the same position as before, with you against his chest. He pressed kisses to any part of you that he could access, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your ear. You turned your head enough so that the next one he could plant on your lips, a sweet, loving kiss.

“Ah…” He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, a bright smile on his face.

“What?” You traced over the smile lines at the corner of his eye.

He was almost nose-to-nose with you when his beautiful brown eyes were open again. Looking at you, he admitted freely, “I’m just… so happy.”

“Me too.” You beamed.

“And I can’t believe I almost let myself miss out on this, on you, so many times.”

“Let’s see… the night we actually got together.” You teased, ticking the instances off on your fingers.

“Mm-hm.” A pink flush was starting to creep up Sungchan’s neck.

“Valentine’s Day at the boba shop. Which you owe me emotional damages for, by the way.”

“Yeah. Sorry…” The pink had overtaken his neck and was starting to flush his cheeks.

“Our first date.”

Completely red-faced, he nodded and sighed. “Like I said, I’m just happy that—”

“Oh, and the bet.”

“Huh?” He was entirely frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.

“I saw Jeno today,” you stated.

“Yes, I did smell him when you came home.”

“I finally got the full story of how you ended up on our blind date, Sung.”

“Listen, I am a proud member of the Love-Rotten Brains Club now.” He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his nose along your cheek and neck as he spoke, making his lips brush over your skin in ghosts of kisses. “I’m the president and the whole board and the social media intern and whatever else. Never have I ever been more proud of being wrong. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Ah!” You squirmed and laughed as he was over a ticklish spot. “Alright, you don’t have to do that. But I’m glad they pushed you out of your comfort zone.”

Sungchan let up, allowing you to simply rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“To my credit, I was the one who offered the terms of that bet in the first place.”

“Really? You had to know that they were definitely going to set you up with someone who was not a werewolf, right?”

“I knew. I figured I could make polite small talk for an hour and be done with my end.”

You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, from the gut. “Oh, baby, if polite small talk was your goal, then you failed miserably.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he said remorsefully.

“Now, I’ve got to know.” You poked his chest pointedly. “Everyone seems convinced that you were like, in love with me and a changed man from that one plane crash of a conversation. Shotaro says that you kept walking around talking about how you wanted to apologize to me for weeks after. Jeno and his girlfriend didn’t set you up on another date despite you not really holding up your end because she was content that you had changed your mind. So?”

Sungchan’s chest rose and fell under you with a deep breath, and he took a pause as if piecing together his thoughts before responding. “Even if we didn’t end up meeting again, I think that date with you was always going to be an important lesson for me, about getting my head out of my ass. I’m just glad I got to take what I learned back to you and apologize and show you that. Like, yeah, our first date was only a few minutes, but I kind of hate to admit that I thought about it for weeks afterwards, because that sounds like weirdo behavior. I mean, literally until the night we saw each other at the boba place. It’s not that it was even romantic at that point, it was more guilt than anything else. I knew I was in the wrong, and I felt awful that I might not be able to tell you that I knew that.”

“I’m glad you found me again at the boba shop. Not a lot of guys would’ve had the guts to actually apologize. Probably would’ve grabbed their drink and ran. Or ran as soon as they saw me and not even ordered.”

“I just wish I had the guts to actually ask you out that night.”

“Me too. But I’m not entirely blameless either. The start of our relationship isn’t a weight that falls solely on your shoulders just because you’re the guy, or the werewolf, or whatever.” You shrugged. “And we figured it out eventually anyway.”

“Yeah, we did.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Stopping in front of a familiar red brick townhouse, you ran up the couple short steps to knock on the front door before you could psych yourself out. You and Sungchan had decided to go through with the mating bite after the next full moon in one week, which was a couple days after the end of the summer semester. It gave him time to focus on his finals, and fell in the two-week break between the summer semester ending and the fall semester starting. This was going to be your last year as undergraduates, both you and Sungchan were graduating in the spring. You could hardly believe that you only had two more semesters left of your bachelor’s degree. And then you had grad school.

But right now, you had this: The front door being opened to reveal Mr. Jung to you, a smile immediately crossing his face as he recognized you. Even behind the glasses perched on his nose, you could easily see Sungchan in his features.

“Hi, Mr. Jung,” you greeted him politely.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He tucked the pen that was in his hand behind his ear. “Here to see Jieun?”

“Uh, no. Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have time for some tea?”

He backed up, waving you in. “Sure, of course. Come on in.”

“Thank you.” You walked in with a grateful head dip, taking your denim Jasmine & Pearls baseball cap off as you passed over the threshold of the front door.

“Sungchan’s got a hat just like that,” Mr. Jung commented, leading you further into the home. “Or is that one his?”

“Oh, we actually won them in a game at the boba shop that Shotaro works at. We each have our own.” You looked over the purple embroidered logo fondly. “It’s kind of how we met. The second time.”

“Right, the boba tea place that Shotaro works at…” He echoed, recognition in his tone.

You followed Mr. Jung upstairs, which you didn’t get to see the last time you’d been over for dinner. He led you into a room with wallpaper depicting cartoon spaceships, planets, moons, and stars. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars, and even the curtains were embroidered with star maps. The furniture itself was set up to be an adult’s home office, though, despite the shell having clearly been a child’s bedroom. There were still some shelves on the wall with trophies from science fairs and sports teams.

“Sorry, Jieun doesn’t drink tea, and the electric kettle in the kitchen is busted.” Mr. Jung half-explained why he’d brought you in here, another electric kettle in his hand. “Give me a second, I need to fill this up.”

“Of course,” you nodded, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. Truly, you were still looking around at what was obviously Sungchan’s childhood bedroom.

Any kids’ furniture was gone and replaced with a desk, laptop, two chairs, and a printer. But you didn’t mind, as you leaned in to read the little engravings on his science fair trophies, and from his soccer teams, and baseball teams, and spelling bees, and mathletes competitions—god, you were dating a mathlete? He’d failed to mention that. There was a picture that looked like it was from a field trip from primary school, of his whole class in front of a space shuttle at the closest space and natural history museum. You squinted your eyes as you studied the picture, trying to figure out which one was your boyfriend.

“Sungchan’s the really tall one that you probably thought was a teacher’s helper,” Mr. Jung said humorously, announcing his return.

You turned around, the picture still in your hand, and your eyes immediately landed on the child he was referring to. Gangly, awkward, nearly a head taller than the rest of the kids, but still smiling so brightly—his crooked smile gap-toothed at that moment in time—because he was just so, so excited to be there.

“Ah, yep. There he is,” you smiled fondly, setting the picture back down.

“He gets his height from Jieun’s father. In case you were curious.”

Mr. Jung set the kettle back on its stand on the desk and started heating it up. He cleared a huge stack of papers off a second chair that was next to the desk, then gestured for you to sit. You did so, watching him take down a couple mugs from the shelves over his desk, and pull open the top drawer to root around in it.

“Jasmine?” He asked.

“That sounds lovely, thank you.”

He took out one tin, right as the kettle made a small ding to let him know the water was ready. Mr. Jung poured the water into both mugs first, then took out a couple small, empty pouches. He measured out the loose jasmine tea into each before sealing them and dropping them in the water.

“I figured you would’ve wanted to talk to Jieun about the bite,” he said as he handed you your cup. “Also, let me know if you want some honey for that.”

“I’m good on the honey, thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “So he told you already.”

The other human eased himself down into the office chair in front of you. “Yes, Sungchan’s been keeping us appraised. He was nervous to tell us at first, since you two haven’t been together very long.”

“Well, yes—”

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s a decision for you and Sungchan to make, not his parents.”

That put you at ease again. “Thank you.”

“And it did make Jieun laugh when she heard that you were the one who did the mating bite talk with him. She likes you a lot. We both do.”

“Oh, thanks…”

“So why did you want to see me? I’m always happy to have some tea with you, but it sounded like you came with a purpose.”

“I wanted to ask about what it’s like? Taking a werewolf’s mating bite as a human?” You plunged into the conversation head-first. “The only other werewolf/human couple we know hasn’t done it, so I don’t really have a point of reference. Like, in class, I’ve learned about the sociocultural importance of it within werewolf packs for mated werewolf couples, but… Sung and I are a bit different, you know?”

Mr. Jung nodded thoughtfully. “I can tell you what my personal experience is, sure. It may be different for you since Sungchan is half-werewolf.”

“Right, of course.” You sat forward, interested. Blowing over your tea, you took your first sip, the lightness of the jasmine dancing across your tongue.

“The biting itself hurts at first. If we were werewolves, my understanding is that it’s nearly painless since their bodies are prepared for it. Humans, not so much.” He rubbed at his mark absentmindedly. “So it will hurt, which I’m sure my son will feel awful about. The shoulder will be a little sore for maybe half an hour or so after, but he won’t even draw blood. And it heals very fast, too. Then you’ll be left with the mark. Werewolves who receive bites have something happen biologically in them with pheromones or something. Again, we don’t have that going on. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be meaningful for you at all. That meaning will just manifest differently, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jung. That was really informative.” You took another drink of your tea.

“Of course. And you know that it’s not a one and done, right?” He warned.

You let out a half-chuckle. “I do know that, yes.”

“Again, I don’t know how much it’ll vary since Sungchan is half-human, but the bite will need to be refreshed more often than if you were both werewolves. My guess would be even more frequently than if he were a full werewolf, but that’s just purely speculation.”

“That would make sense. Thanks for the heads up.” You said, watching the metal of his wedding band glint as he lifted his mug to his mouth. “Can I ask… when did you take your wife’s bite?”

Mr. Jung sighed, a bittersweet sort of smile coming to his face. “It was before we were married. We’d been dating for some time at that point, a couple years. When we first got together, there were some… vocally unhappy members of her pack, but they did quiet down after a while. However, I think they hadn’t expected us to last so long, or that Jieun was just going through a phase or something. After a while they started pressuring Jieun to break up with me and date within her pack— or at least another werewolf. We’d discussed the bite once or twice before, and she thought that if I took it on, it would make everyone leave us alone; that we’d look like any other mated pair of werewolves. It ended up doing the opposite. It was way too far in the eyes of Jieun’s pack. I already knew at that point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, so from there we eloped, settled down here, eventually had Sungchan a few years later.”

“And you all… have you spoken to her pack again since?”

“No. Unfortunately Sungchan has never been able to meet his family on that side. I suggested it to Jieun when she was pregnant, but she looked me in the eye and asked me if her pack reacted that way just to us being together, then could I imagine what sort of awful things they might think of our child? And would I want to put our baby through that just for some romanticized idea of family? I never brought it up again.”

“What about your family?”

There was no more bitterness in his smile anymore, just pure love and fondness. “They’ve been incredible. Never looked at Jieun or Sungchan as anything other than family. I know Sungchan would probably rather have the pack but—”

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“I know he doesn’t tell people he’s half-human. And really, it’s alright. I get it, being a human isn’t anything to brag about.” Mr. Jung sounded like he really had come to terms with that, that his son would rather not tell people about his dad, about where he came from. Which wasn’t even true.

“That’s not why he tells people he’s only a werewolf. He’s not ashamed of you, or of what he is, on either side. He loves you, a lot. He does that because if he tells people that he’s half-human half-werewolf up front, they take it as a free pass to ask him weird questions.”

The man’s face relaxed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I never realized that. Thank you, Y/N.”

“And I mean, you didn’t need me to tell you that. Just look around you. It’s not like he’s exactly got wallpaper of spreadsheets and supply/demand graphs in here, right?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at that. “You’re right. It’s… comforting, though, to have outside confirmation.”

“I know, I get it.”

Mr. Jung gazed past you, out the window behind your head wistfully, taking another sip of his tea. “Growing up how he did… we—Jieun and I—were worried about him for a while, you know.”

“Worried how?”

“Well, that he’d spend so much time trying to protect himself from what our life was like, that he wouldn’t actually be looking for what he wanted.” Mr. Jung’s eyes focused back on yours then, and he smiled at you. “But as soon as he brought you home, we knew we could rest easy.”

“Because I’m human?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his mug to take another relaxed sip of his tea. “We would’ve loved you if you were human, werewolf, fairy, dragon, anything.”

“I’m sorry but… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“When he was in high school… he and his mom used to get into fights. Teenager hormones, half-werewolf teenager hormones… it was a lot. I know the fact that he was the only half-werewolf at his school, and the only werewolf not in a pack, too, didn’t help either. A lot of it was Sungchan not understanding his mother’s choices, either about leaving her pack, or dating a human in the first place, or not going back to the pack, or whatever else he decided she’d done wrong that day. He’d pretty much always declare that he’d make the ‘better choice.’” Mr. Jung put air-quotes around the last two words. “You know, have a werewolf partner so that his family wouldn’t get harassed, join his future partner’s pack, things like that. Sungchan mellowed out a bit more after he started college, and they started properly getting along again once he moved out last year.”

That mostly lined up with what Jeno had told you about his conversation with Sungchan at the park, his previous policy to only date other werewolves. You frowned thoughtfully, taking a long, slow drink of tea.

“Seeing how Sungchan is with you… he’s not hiding from anything,” he finished fondly.

“I’m sorry I was so dismissive before, Mr. Jung,” you finally said, your voice quiet and contemplative. “When you were talking about Sungchan not telling people he’s half-human. I jumped in completely forgetting that you’ve known him for his whole life… and there could’ve been a lot more reasons why you would’ve thought he was ashamed to be human.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Mr. Jung put his tea down on the desk, perching on the front of his seat to gently place a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, really. For one, I know you meant well. And two, we know Sungchan very differently. Obviously, yes, I’ve known him his whole life, but you were lucky enough to meet him now, when he has some stuff already kind of figured out. And I’m very glad you did. Because trust me, you should not have met Sungchan in high school. I love my son, I’ve always loved him, but I definitely do not think that if you two had met in high school, you and I would be sharing a cup of tea right now.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, thinking not only of the high school version of Sungchan that had just been recollected to you by Mr. Jung, but also of yourself in high school, who honestly wasn’t any more put together. “Yeah… I don’t talk to any of my high school boyfriends anymore. Saw one of their moms at the grocery store last week actually, and she still recognized me, gave me a nasty look, and blocked the aisle with her shopping cart so I couldn’t get by her. I dated her son almost five years ago now, I think?”

The other human laughed, giving your arm a couple pats before taking his hand away and reclining back in his desk chair again. “Not to mention, if we both had known him his entire life, then I wouldn’t get to tell you any of the fun stories about him as a kid. Has he told you he was a mathlete?”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Team captain junior and senior year. They were semi-finalists both years he was captain and even won the State series his senior year.”

“Did he have like a little dweebus uniform or something?”

“Polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, the whole nine.”

“Please tell me you have pictures.”

“Oh yeah, him and Shotaro.”

“Taro too?!”

[you: attached image]

[you: attached image]

[taro: HOW DID YOU GET THOSE?????????]

[taro: WHAT THE HELL I MADE SUNGCHAN PROMISE ME THOSE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN]

[you: did you make Mr. Jung promise you though?]

[taro: does sungchan know that you’re getting blackmail material from your new bestie, HIS DAD??]

[you: what do you mean blackmail material?? personally, i think you look SO cute in those pictures in your little mathletes uniform]

[you: i didn’t even know sirens could need glasses and braces]

[you: wait does this mean you wear contacts??? i feel like it’s illegal to know this]

[taro: it is, now i have to kill you]

[you: ooooohh, wait till i tell sung]

[taro: not if i drown you first]

[you: you can’t kill me, i know where Mr. Jung keeps the mathletes photos]

[taro: damn it]

[you: and the ones from your first school dance]

[taro: DOES THIS MAN JUST HAVE A SHOEBOX LABELED “OSAKI SHOTARO BLACKMAIL MATERIAL” OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK]

[you: no it’s labeled “jung sungchan blackmail material” actually but you just happen to be in a lot of the pictures too]

[taro: wait for real?]

[you: no, dumbass, he’s sungchan’s dad, of course he’s going to have a lot of old photos of his son and by extension, his son’s friends]

[taro: don’t get a guy’s hopes up like that, damn]

[taro: alright come on, let me see the bad pics you got of sungchan now]

[you: noooo, they’re not bad, they’re actually really cute 🥹🥹]

[you: attached images(+5)]

[you: like just LOOK at my little guy 🥹 he was so little and cute]

[taro: the FUCK are you talking about]

[taro: he’s clearly like 20cm taller than me and everyone else INCLUDING THE TEACHER SPONSOR]

[you: yeah, and he’s JUST a little guy, so little and cute]

[you: i wouldn’t expect you to get it, taro…………sigh]

[taro: attached image]

[taro: THIS IS YOUR MANS????]

[you: WELL WHEN YOU ZOOM IN ON ANYBODY’S FACE LIKE THAT OF COURSE IT’LL LOOK A BIT OFF]

[taro: the favoritism is so real right now]

[you: i’m so tired of your dramatic ass like what fucking “favoritism” 😭😭 of course i like sung better he’s my boyfriend]

[taro: and??]

[you: you’re not??? the fuck you mean “and??”]

[taro: and i think a good friend should be fair and impartial]

[you: i came here to name and shame you to your face, not to be fair and impartial i don’t know how you could’ve been under any other impression]

[taro: i’m so telling sungchan about this]

[you: don’t forget to leave in the part where i called him cute and you intentionally manipulated a picture of him to make him look worse]

[taro: i regret ever setting you two up]

[you: actually jeno and them did it first]

[taro: and i should’ve left you two crashed and burned and SINGLE where i found you]

[you: love you taro 🫶]

[taro: nice try demon that lives in my apartment and doesn’t pay rent 🫶🫶🫶]

[you: SUNGCHAN DOESN’T LET ME WHEN I TRY TO CHIP IN FOR HOW MUCH I’M OVER THERE I SWEAR]

[taro: i figured, which is why i don’t let him pay more than his half either]

[you: then why are you being mean to me about it 🥺]

[taro: do you feel bad enough that you’ll delete those mathlete photos off your phone now?]

[you: nice try demon that i’m never paying rent to 🫶🫶🫶]

Pushing open the door to the next shop on this street, you were pleasantly surprised by the calm, quaint atmosphere that you were greeted by. The bright red and gold pillars outside of the toy and watch shop had suggested otherwise, but inside of it were a few display cases filled with watches and other pieces of jewelry, while the other half of the shop had shelves upon shelves of toys. Every item in the store seemed handmade, and even to your untrained eye, you could tell that several had magical properties. A girl about your age was behind one of the watch and jewelry counters towards the front of the store, which also had the register on it. She was fiddling with an open watch, and you watched as she readjusted the light of the lamp above her with just a flick of her wrist—not touching a single button or switch on the device. All the jewelry and other accessories she was wearing already made you think she might’ve been a witch, but that just locked it in for you.

Some music played throughout the store, though you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, as there were no visible speakers on the ceiling or elsewhere. Briefly dragging your eyes over the display cases as you strolled up towards the employee, you spotted quite a few watches, of course, as well as necklaces, rings, earrings, and small trinkets. But nothing that quite stuck out to you as what you were looking for.

The witch perked up as you came to a stop in front of her, setting her tiny tools down on the small rag alongside the watch pieces. “Hi! Welcome in. Is there something I can help you with?”

“This is a magical kind of shop, right?” You asked curiously. Apothecaries usually stuck out as such, but having a witch and a couple things that glowed didn’t guarantee anything.

“Yep! This place is ran by my coven!” She told you proudly. “We make everything in here by hand in the back, fine tune the mechanics and the magic ourselves. Are you looking for any particular kind of magic thing?”

“Yes, well, sort of…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I’m kind of gift shopping right now.”

“What’s the occasion?”

After a split-second internal debate, you figured this witch had probably dealt with weirder, and you would definitely need her insight and experience when it came to the magical properties of all of the options in front of you.

“My boyfriend is giving me his mating bite in a few days, but I don’t want to show up empty-handed, you know?” You scratched at the back of your neck. “Like, it’s not an engagement-level thing for us, but it’s still big, and I want to be able to give him something too…”

She didn’t seem thrown off in the slightest, instead seeming to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin, before her features lit up, and she slid over to the other end of the display case. You followed her down.

“Now, I’m guessing you already know about moonstone—” She explained, pulling out a small display of rings. “Helps their shifts.”

You nodded as you looked over the many rings inlaid with opalescent stones like the one on Jeno’s necklace. “Yeah. And, I mean, his aren’t that bad. Just sort of… disorienting and confusing. Though I hate how sickly he gets the day or so after.”

The witch gave you an intrigued look. “He’s… half-werewolf?”

Darting your eyes back up to her, you wondered which part of what you just said had given it away. The less intense shift? The ‘sickly’ bit?

“And half-human?” She took your silence as an apparent cue to finish her guess.

You slowly nodded.

Immediately, the rings were whisked away from under your nose. She was practically alight with excitement as she flitted over to a completely different display case, grabbing just one singular piece from there and bringing it back over to you. It was another ring, a thick silver band of one width, with no obvious gem settings or other such features.

“So, you wouldn’t really be worried about the shift itself, then. Or, at least not the pain part, which is really what the moonstone helps werewolves with. Easing the transition into and during the shift.” The employee rambled enthusiastically. “The symptoms that he really has a problem with are about getting back into balance after. Since he’s half-human, his body has to work a lot harder to return to homeostasis after an ordeal like a werewolf shift.”

“He’s said something about that before. Homeostasis.”

“Then what you really want is something like this—” She offered the ring out for you to take, depositing it onto your palm. You curiously looked it over closer. “Instead of moonstone, like most things designed for werewolves, this has concentrated moonflower essence in the chamber that makes up most of the band.”

You tilted the ring and could in fact see a small amount of mostly clear, but shimmery iridescent cobalt blue liquid shift around in the light. The container that held the liquid must have been incredibly thin to fit along the ring whilst adding negligible bulk.

Moonflower was of course familiar to you from Magical Botany Club. While the plant itself wasn’t magical, it had a slew of magical applications, and could be distilled down to a magical essence. Much like moonstone, which also wasn’t in and of itself magical, it had an effect on magical beings that were also tied to the moon, most notably, werewolves. Moonflower paste was a common ingredient in traditional werewolf medicine, and even in modern pharmaceuticals, many medications with different formulations for werewolves—or formulated to treat diseases that only werewolves got—often had ingredients derived from the moonflower. In addition to healing properties, the smell tended to have a calming effect on them as well, both in and out of their shifts (unlike moonstone, which exclusively aided their shifts).

You had a moonflower plant in your own apartment, which had been useless for any werewolf purposes as of late with Sungchan never coming over, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that way for long. It had been slightly altered so that it would be suited to growing indoors; moonflower was typically a vine, which was difficult to keep in a one-bedroom apartment with limited balcony space, so after a little bit of help from Jaemin, your moonflower grew as a cute little potted bush instead.

But there was still one more feature on the ring that hadn’t been explained to you. A single, silver, almost-circle on one side of the outside of the ring, entirely flush with the top of the container that held the moonflower essence. The outline of the rest of the circle was there, but it wasn’t quite filled in all the way, a small crescent of darkness keeping the silver from being whole.

“And this?” You gestured to the symbol.

“Tracks the lunar cycle. Waxing gibbous, we’re just a couple days away from the full moon. He probably instinctually knows what phase of the moon it is, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra reminder.”

Turning the ring over in your hand again, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Yeah. This is perfect.”

“And you said it’s happening in a few days? So after the full moon, right?”

“Oh, uhm, yes.”

“We could totally make another by then, if you wanted a matching set,” she offered.

“Really? So quick?”

“A lot of the initial process is the R&D,” the witch explained with a laugh. “But we already know how to make this one, it’ll be easy. Promise.”

You thought this over for a moment. After telling so many people that it wasn’t marriage or engagement, getting matching rings… But the whole point of exchanging mating bites in the first place was to match. Well, almost, since no two werewolves would have the same bite. To coordinate. To give each other your own version of the same thing. Your own version of the same thing.

“Do you think you could make it without the chamber with the moonflower essence, actually?” You asked. “Like, still with the lunar tracker. Just the main band and the little part that tracks the lunar cycle.”

She lit up. “Absolutely! Should be even quicker, actually. Probably have that done by the end of business tomorrow, morning after tomorrow at the latest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! Say the word and I’ll start as soon as you leave.”

“Yes, please!”

Sungchan hadn’t let go of you once since you arrived at his apartment the evening that you were to be receiving his bite. Either with an arm around your waist, pressed up against your back, or holding your hand. Shotaro had already vacated the premises by the time you’d gotten there, a half-excuse of him staying at Jisung and Chenle’s place tonight being given by the werewolf when you asked.

The two of you ate dinner first. He wanted to feed you, making sure you had eaten and were hydrated before. You were finally taking your class on werewolves this looming fall semester, and had already bought and read ahead in the textbook for it. Specifically, you’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d read and re-read the sections on mating bites, mating bite rituals, and anything else that you could imagine would be relevant to your current predicament.

For mated werewolf couples in packs who were going through the actual ritual, the first step was to usually share a meal consisting of raw meat—fresh kill. Neither you nor Sungchan could or would actually eat that, so you just had a hearty serving of your favorite takeout orders.

Sungchan didn’t even let you sit in your own chair, having insistently pulled you into his lap right at their kitchen table, lifting bite after bite of food to your mouth, always sure to follow it up with your slowly draining glass of water. You were mindful of him, too, making sure he didn’t ignore his half-werewolf appetite in his concern over you.

“‘M full, Sung…” You murmured, gently covering his hand with yours to maneuver the food towards his mouth instead.

He frowned thoughtfully, not parting his lips even as you bumped the spoon against them, looking like a very serious toddler who wasn’t enjoying the game of airplane being played at the moment. “You sure?”

“Yeah, promise.” You nodded with a smile. “It was delicious, and I’m all done. You took good care of me, Sung. Can you let me finish taking care of you, now?”

Your boyfriend’s features softened at that, and he parted his mouth, letting you feed him the spoonful. He happily chewed and swallowed, looking especially blissed out as you gently scratched his scalp with your free hand. In between continuing to feed Sungchan, you finished off your water, and made sure he drank his as well.

Finally, he too declared that he was done eating. Curled up in your boyfriend’s embrace, with a full belly and a full heart, you could’ve almost thought that this was any normal night; nearly forgotten what was going to come next. Nearly.

Sungchan took you to his room next, which wasn’t really necessary, since you had the whole apartment to yourselves. He held you to him with an arm around your waist as he shut the door behind you two. You raised an eyebrow when you heard the door lock.

He buried his face in your neck, wrapping both arms around you now as he half-growled, “Smells like Shotaro out there…”

“Locking the door to keep the smells out…” You hummed in amusement, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your weight back against him. You decided not to outright point out the flaw in logic there, nor the fact that the two of you could’ve also done this at your place, where there was no smells of Shotaro or anybody else, just you. But of course, you figured it needed to be here because it smelled like Sungchan. It had been so long since Sungchan had been to your home that you were doubtful even a full werewolf would be able to catch a trace of him.

He lifted his head and breathed in like he was about to say something, but you just pulled his arms tighter around you and reassured him, “It’s perfect, Sung. Our own little space. Just you and me.”

Dropping his cheek back down to your shoulder, Sungchan let out a long but shaky breath. Putting your hands over his, your slotted your fingers with your boyfriend’s.

“Sung? Baby? Everything okay?” You asked.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this…”

“Hey, if you’re not ready for this, we can stop. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.”

“No, I want to,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. He coughed, his voice softening again but sounding a little strained as he continued, “Really. I mean… I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. I seriously thought I’d royally fucked things up forever. Multiple times.”

“Well, you didn’t,” you told him strongly. “Now, can I go first?”

“You… go first?” He repeated, confusion coloring his voice so clearly. Apparently, he’d forgotten that you’d be doing more than just getting bitten tonight.

“Aw, I would love to, thanks, Sung,” you tittered jokingly, patting his cheek. “Close your eyes, please?”

He chuckled, and a beat later, announced, “Okay, they’re closed.”

You craned your neck just the slightest to be able to peer at him out of the corner of your vision, seeing that he was in fact squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the small pouch that you’d picked up from the coven’s shop this morning. You shook out the two rings inside into your palm, and put yours on your left middle finger first, a simple silver band with the lunar indicator welded into it. It looked almost like a full moon, but you could see just the faintest strip of black showing that it was actually beginning to wane. Next, you gently put the other on Sungchan’s right ring finger, his with a faint shimmer of the moonflower essence.

Holding the side of his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you declared, “Done. You can open your eyes.”

He did so, immediately holding up his hand to inspect what you’d done to it. As he looked over the new jewelry, you explained, “It has moonflower essence, all around the band. And the moon design on it will actually change with the phases of the real moon.”

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he picked up your left hand, bringing it up towards his face that was still hooked over your shoulder—presumably to kiss the back of it—but stopped short as he seemed to have noticed your new accessory as well. His fingers turned your silver band until he could get a good look at the lunar tracker that matched his.

“I got one too,” you added, skin turning warmer and starting to prickle the longer he went without saying anything. “It’s a lot prettier than those phone apps that track the lunar cycle, right?”

Then Sungchan was turning you around by the hips. He grabbed your face with two hands to kiss you, and you got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. You could feel the cool band of his new ring pressing against your cheek, warming up with every passing second from yours and Sungchan’s bodies.

Breaking the kiss, he reached behind his neck for your left hand with his right, bringing them both down to rest over his chest. He pressed your palm against him firmly, and you could feel his heart beating under your touch.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said quietly, earnestly, his voice cracking over your name. “So much… that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

“What do you mean, Sung?”

“Like, one person shouldn’t be able to have this much love in their body. Or at least, I shouldn’t.”

“What?” You let out a breathy chuckle. “That’s what so beautiful about love, there can only be more of it, it’s infinite. Of course you’re capable of so much love. How could you think anything else?”

“I used to never understand how my mom could choose to fall in love with a human. To doom her family—me—to our life. No safety or identity that comes with a pack. Even after I realized I had fallen for you, I-I was afraid I was so… messed up from thinking like that my whole life that I wasn’t going to be able to love you like you deserved. Like something might’ve been broken in me.”

“Sung…” You touched under his eye with your free hand, where a tear had fallen. “You’re not broken. You’ve never done anything but love me with your whole heart, I know that. You’ve been so good to me, always.”

“I know,” he nodded zealously, accompanied by a sniffle. “I know now, that I’m not broken. That I can have all this overflowing love in me, and it’s so awesome, but also kind of terrifying?”

You chuckled lightly at that. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you so much I get a little scared too, because I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And we haven’t even been properly dating for that long, so if I already love you this much, then how much more am I going to love you in six months? A year? Two? Five? Ten?”

He snapped his head up from where he’d been gazing down at your hands, eyes locking on yours. You smiled back at him weakly. The urge to stuff your words back in your mouth was there, but you knew you couldn’t. It was the truth, that you could picture yourself with Sungchan that far ahead in your life. For the rest of it, if you were going to be that honest, but you bit your tongue before you got there.

The two of you had unintentionally moved onto the next part of the werewolf mating ritual: moonlit confessionals. The light of the nearly full moon shone down on the two of you in front of one of his bedroom windows. Your textbook hadn’t been terribly explicit on the exact content of the words exchanged at this point, just that it was an opportunity for the couple to truly bare their souls to each other, make sure there was nothing hidden that would make the other not want to go through with the rest of the ritual.

“After my last relationship… ended like it did, I thought I might be a little broken, too,” you pushed on with your confession. “I was afraid that in my next relationship, I’d just see cheating everywhere. I was honestly a little relieved when our first date blew up, because I thought that if I dated someone again, I’d treat them like a criminal. But never once has it ever crossed my mind with you, never once have I ever doubted you, have I ever felt anything less than absolutely loved and adored.”

“I do, absolutely love and adore you,” he replied. “And I’m so glad you brought up the future, because I think about it, too. Like, all the time. When I imagine my life after college, or what my life is going to be like in five or ten years… I don’t know much, but I always imagine that you’re there. Like, I don’t know what I want to be, other than happy, with you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing him by the neck to yank his mouth down to yours. Pulling him with you towards the bed, you stopped when you felt your legs back up against it.

“Do it, Sung. Bite me,” you murmured against his lips.

He let out a low, throaty groan at your words, tipping his head back as he took a couple deep breaths. You pressed a few more open-mouth kisses to his Adam’s apple and collarbones. Sungchan made another sound that was between a sigh and a grunt.

“We should be sitting down for this,” he stated, though he made no move to follow through on his words.

You removed your lips from his skin to happily plop down into the center of his mattress. The front of you was a bit cold since you were no longer pressed up against him, though you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be for very long.

Sungchan sat down facing you, scooping you up into his arms. You easily settled into his lap, your legs finding familiar places on either side of his hips. Fondly brushing some hair off his forehead, you would’ve been rather content to just stare down at your Sung bathed in moonlight for the next several minutes, so handsome and all yours. But you had something you needed to do tonight.

Grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing—Sungchan’s, of course—you shucked it over your head and off onto the floor. That left you just in a tank top with nearly negligible straps. You could see your boyfriend’s eyes zero in on the bare expanse of skin from your shoulder to your neck that you’d just exposed, where his bite was supposed to go.

“I had my turn,” you said, slipping the thin strap off of the shoulder he was staring at, and tilting your head to open up as much space as possible, make it as clear of an invitation as possible. “Now it’s yours. Go on, baby. I trust you.”

Sungchan didn’t say anything more, but he did grab both of your hands by the wrist—his grip surprisingly gentle—to wrap your arms around his waist. You splayed your hands out over his lower back under his shirt, indulging yourself in his warmth, and smoothing a thumb over his skin. He then wrapped his around you to hold you even closer, if that was possible, and you watched him open his mouth, his white teeth catching the pale moonlight, glinting, and looking much sharper than normal— reminding you of how they looked during his shifts.

Then those teeth were biting you, sinking into your muscle.

Renjun had described what being bitten by a vampire was like to you, once. He had a bucket list for that sort of thing—magical encounters. He said it was a small pinch, barely more than the pressure of a needle, then it was all pleasure from thereafter. Vampire venom, of course, was meant to do that so that those they were biting felt so good so they wouldn’t resist while the vampire drank as much as they pleased from them.

Werewolves were predators in an entirely different sense, with the teeth to match. Theirs were meant to grab prey, hold them in their jaws no matter how much they struggled, and rip flesh from bone. As much damage as possible in one go, so that if said prey happened to escape, they wouldn’t be able to get very far with their injuries.

It was visceral pain, the moment Sungchan bit you. You couldn’t hear the noise that you made—only aware that you made one as you felt the gurgle of something in the back of your throat—through the white noise that exploded behind your eyes the instant his teeth hit bone. You were glad he’d directed you to put your arms around him just moments earlier, as your nails were now firmly embedded in the skin of his lower back—you were sure those would’ve been drawing your own blood in your palms if they hadn’t been there.

A memory suddenly flashed in your mind. You were seven, in your backyard with your dad, watching two squirrels chase each other across the grass. Then your neighbor’s dog came out of nowhere—maybe slipped his collar—and got one in his mouth. Your dad couldn’t get his hand over your eyes quick enough. You didn’t want to pet Mr. Lee’s dog when you saw him a couple days later, despite how well he sat, the adorable way his tongue lolled out from between his razor-sharp canines, and how fast his tail wagged.

The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?

You trusted him, of course, or you wouldn’t have asked him to do this. Not let him; but suggested, encouraged, requested, told him to. Your fingernails dug into his back even harder at the idea, as much to anchor yourself and provide an outlet as to hold him to you as well. Surely you had to be breaking skin at this point.

You had the urge to bite down on something too. It was a need that came from deep in your jaw. Like when people were given something to bite on for painful procedures in old medical dramas. Or maybe reciprocity.

This go around, you kept your teeth to yourself, though, sinking them into your bottom lip. That pain didn’t even register past the supernova radiating out from your shoulder.

Sungchan finally pulled his teeth out from your flesh, and the rest of your senses snapped back into focus. Your eyes fluttered open—when did you close them?—back to Sungchan’s bedroom, your fingers slowly unfurled from where they’d dug into his back, and you could hear him talking to you as he gently inspected the bite wound.

You brought your hands back around in front of you. Your eyes widened minutely as you realized that there was bright red under a couple of your fingernails. And it wasn’t yours. The beds of your nails were perfectly intact, meaning that you really had broken his skin.

“Oh God, Y/N, the blood. I’m so sorry.” Sungchan muttered under his breath, reaching for something on his nightstand.

For half a second, you thought he meant his, and you were about to apologize as you were still staring down at your hands mostly in awe. But then you actually saw his face for the first time as he turned back around, clutching a damp hand towel.

There was a red tint to his lips, and you realized that wasyour blood. Electricity jolted up your spine before the thought had even fully formed.

…he won’t even draw blood. So much for that, Mr. Jung.

His tongue darted out to instinctively investigate the wetness on his mouth, and a sudden thrill shuddered through you as you watched. You decided not to ask how it tasted to him, despite the question certainly popping into your mind.

You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone instead, so far back it was nearly in his hairline. “I’m okay, Sung. I’m okay.”

Without a word, he started gently cleaning up the bite wound, and you had half a mind to ask for another towel for his back, though you knew that would be futile until he got you situated. So, you sat patiently, keeping your head craned to the side to give him plenty of room, and watched his intent face as he worked.

“Sung?”

He sighed, a sound that let you know he was already beginning his mental descent through the seven circles of werewolf hell. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so—”

“Can I bite you next time?” You asked simply.

The towel stilled over your bite.

“You… next time… bite… me?” His eyes glassed over as his mouth stumbled to even form around the individual words.

“I know I won’t leave a mark like you but… so I can have something to do?” You used the hand of your unbitten shoulder to trace a line from his ear down his jugular, under his collar, to his shoulder, then back to his collarbone. You took your hand back as you went to joke, “Unless you’re expecting extravagant and meaningful gifts every time?”

“No, no. I mean yes! I mean—” Sungchan took a second to shake his head and blink, clearing his mind. “I don’t expect gifts every time. And yes, you can bite me next time. I didn’t think you would be up for a next time after I… well, after all this.”

He gestured vaguely to the wound that he’d gone back to tending to. A quick glance at it out of the corner of your eye showed you that it had already stopped bleeding and was starting to mend itself. At least Mr. Jung was right about that part.

Even through the acute worry over the unexpected severity of the bite, you could tell that Sungchan was already more clear-headed and overall relaxed, the constant nervous tension in his body gone, replaced just by a determined set of his shoulders, and momentary furrow of his brow as he cleaned up the bite. Brushing his hair off his forehead, you trailed your hand down to cup his cheek fondly. “Sungchan, this is the most yourself I’ve seen you in a long time. Yes, I’m going to keep your bite.”

Just the bright, tender smile on Sungchan’s face—the recognition of being loved and reflecting it back to you—would’ve been more than enough for you to do this again, whether or not it helped the scent anxiety. You could always work on another solution for that. But this you wouldn’t take away for the world.

He set the towel aside again, and you grabbed his hands now that they were free, messing with the brand-new ring adorning one of his fingers.

“Besides, even if I can’t leave a mark like yours next time, I can still mark you up,” you mused quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, except for the fact that you had a werewolf practically chest-to-chest with you. And you knew very well that you did. “They just won’t last as long.”

“Why wait until next time?” He suggested, and you heard the long inhale he took after. You wondered if you smelled any different to him already, or if he just needed to breathe.

You looked up from your hands to him with a smirk. “I like the way you think.”

Sungchan captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of hunger, and love, and metal— your blood was still around his mouth. And you smiled into it before doing as promised and dropping your mouth to the column of his throat, well above his collar, and letting your teeth graze his skin. You could feel his gasp rush in under your lips as his hands pulled your hips firmly down against his.

You decided that Jeno could be a ‘puppy’ all he wanted. You had a wolf, and you were more than happy with that.

“I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know,” Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.

“Really?” You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.

“Shotaro’s going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate.”

Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You’d have this for… who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.

Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, “No he’s not.”

“No, he’s not,” he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. “But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week.”

“We’re going over for dinner next week?!” You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. “Why did you let me—”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.

You smacked his arm as you hissed, “I’m going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don’t do that to me!”

“Ouch, full name.” He pouted.

“God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!”

“So it’ll be fine for them to see that,” he pointed to your shoulder, “but not these?” He gestured from his own neck down.

“Different situational and cultural contexts!”

He nodded slowly, “Oh, right, of course...”

“You’re half-human, Sungchan, don’t pull that ‘I’m-just-a-simple-werewolf’ act on me!”

“I upset you. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

“You better be, Sungchan.”

“I am, baby, I am.” He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. “Now are you done calling me that?”

“What? Your name?” You scoffed.

“You know what I mean, baby...”

“So we don’t have dinner with your parents next week?”

“Nope. Two weeks.”

You shook your head and sighed. “And so you live to see another day, Sung.”

“I’m half-werewolf, I would’ve been all healed up by next week, you know,” he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.

“I know, I know.”

He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. “Which means I’ll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more…”

“I don’t know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.

“I know,” he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. “I’m the worst.”

“You are,” you breathed out against his lips.

“So now that we agree on that…”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You jabbed the crosswalk button repeatedly.

“It’s going to be fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ve already met your parents before and it was fine.”

“Yeah, once, for like two minutes, as my friend.” You pointed out, banging the button with the side of your fist when it still hadn’t changed.

You were of course talking about a random Sunday afternoon way back in the spring semester, before you and Sungchan had started dating. He had come over that day to help you put together your new coffee table that you’d finally gotten around to buying. Except, upon starting the assembling, the two of you had realized that neither of you had one of the tools required for it. Thankfully, your dad did, and offered to bring it by since he and your mom were about to head out to run errands anyway. Cue some very brief, very awkward introductions between your parents and Sungchan when they’d brought the promised tool. You weren’t counting, but you would’ve bet money that you had called him your friend at least ten times during that less-than-five-minute conversation, with so much stress and nervous emphasis on the word that you wouldn’t have been surprised if your parents had left your apartment that day already thinking that the two of you were dating.

But now you were actually supposed to be introducing him to them as your boyfriend, and you felt like you were going to throw up and pass out and die before you even got there.

Sungchan wordlessly let go of your hand to smoothly step between you and the crosswalk button, picking up your other hand to hold.

“Come on, you said it yourself that they were impressed with me after that two-minute conversation,” he reminded you. “Imagine how great of an impression I’ll leave after two hours.”

“All I said was that my dad told me later that he was surprised that you were a werewolf because you were so calm,” you corrected him. “He’s used to all my friends from high school who had the bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls energy like Jeno.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Which, by the way, I’ve already told them that you’re not in a pack or anything like that, but pretty much all they know about werewolves is from my classmates and friends from when I was in high school. So… apologies in advance for any assumptions or comparisons they make.”

“Right, the two packs you went to school with.”

“Yeah, them. I told them you’re not in a pack, and don’t have any of that going on. It actually made my mom relax a lot more. I think all that stuff kind of scares her.”

“What? Afraid that I’d whisk you away with my big werewolf muscles to my werewolf pack and she’d never hear from her poor little human daughter ever again?”

You burst out into an incredulous laugh. “You have got to stop talking about yourself like that or I’m seriously going to hurt your feelings one of these days, baby.”

“By saying what? It’s not like I’m lying?”

“Your ego is as stupid big as your stupid big werewolf muscles.”

“Ha!” He cheered out victoriously. “So you admit it.”

“Wasn’t falling in love supposed to rot your brain? Make you more docile or whatever? I think it’s just made you even worse…” You tutted, shaking your head.

“How could I not be on an ego trip? I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?” He retorted. “She’s crazy beautiful, and smart, and funny, and so sweet. I’d be jealous of me if I wasn’t me.”

You rolled your eyes, but squeezed his hand tighter. “Alright, you sap. Maybe the ego trip is warranted. But seriously, don’t talk about yourself like that in front of my parents or I’ll die of secondhand embarrassment. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

So far lunch was going okay. Your mom had invited the two of you over for a late Sunday lunch, which always meant sandwiches and lemonade in your house. And it was going okay, aside from the initial reaction you’d gotten when they’d opened the front door. You could still hear your mother’s shocked gasp and ‘Oh my God…’ muttered under her breath as her eyes were glued onto your neck. More specifically, you knew she was staring at your new mating bite. Or, the half of it that she could see— you weren’t exactly hiding it, so you’d picked your t-shirt today only for comfort in the lingering end-of-August-cusp-of-September heat. It was just over three weeks since Sungchan had given you his bite, a couple days shy of the upcoming full moon, and yeah maybe you should visit your parents more often. But in your defense, you’d been a bit busy between getting the bite in the first place, and the new semester starting.

Your father didn’t have much better of a reaction than your mother, eyes going wide behind his thick, frameless lenses before his jaw clenched. There was still a certain tension in his muscles that jumped every time he saw Sungchan touch you, whether it was a brush of arms, holding your hand, or an innocent squeeze of your knee as he stood up to head to the bathroom that he’d just been gestured towards.

Picking your glass of lemonade back up after Sungchan had left the room, you took only a sip before your mom was reaching across the table to gently take your hand in hers.

“Hey, sweetie…” She said softly but with a certain worried tenseness in her tone that made your stomach drop.

You tried to mimic the front she was putting up, smiling back at her brightly and innocently, “Hey, Mom?”

“Listen... We are so happy for you, and we love Sungchan, we really do.”

“Okay, then why does it feel like this is about to go somewhere that I’m not going to like?”

“Don’t you think that the two of you might just be moving a little fast?”

Entirely dropping all sunny pretenses, you narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“The-the bite,” she explained with a wince, pointing to her own shoulder.

“That’s sort of like marriage for them, right?” Your dad cut in gruffly.

Despite it being phrased like a question, his tone made it sound much more like an accusation, like he already knew he was right and was just letting you know that he knew the truth—or at least what he thought the truth was. It reminded you of when you’d get in trouble as a kid and he’d ask you if you knew how the vase in the living room got broken despite very much already having a good idea himself. Giving you the opportunity to fess up before he punished you even more severely for the initial bad deed and then lying about it on top of that. But you hadn’t done anything wrong this time.

“Sort of, not really, it depends. In some packs, I guess. But Sung’s not in a pack, you know that,” you reminded them firmly, straightening up in your seat.

Your mom jumped back in, “Right, but still, don’t you think he kind of rushed you into—”

“It was my idea,” you cut her off before she could even finish articulating that thought. You knew you’d get all the way pissed off if she did. It was already taking a lot to dampen your anger now and keep this at a civil conversation. It’s just because they didn’t understand. You had to keep telling yourself that, and do your best to explain, calmly, and make them understand. Not everybody had three years of Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies under their belt like you. Your mom had been a stay-at-home mom all your life, and your dad was just a few years away from retirement, having worked in a human-dominated field for his whole career. An architect.

Those same sharp eyes that would pore over building designs late at night in his home office while you sat in his lap and did your own colorful sketches in crayon—and eventually fell asleep in his arms—were now regarding you with a clear distrust. “Darling, really, it—”

“Look, when we first started dating, Sung was having a really hard time with scent anxiety,” you once again spoke over him authoritatively. “All the usual scenting stuff, it wasn’t working. He was really stressed, and anxious, and just… worried sick all the time about me like spontaneously combusting or something if we were apart for even a second. Me taking his bite was the best solution. And now, the beginning of the semester has gone off without a hitch. Classes, my Magical Botany Club, his astronomy club, his senior thesis meetings, my research mentorship project... I don’t know if we would’ve been able to do all of this apart, clear-headed like… literally a month ago. And yes, I brought it up to him. I’m fine, I promise. This is what I want, he’s what I want.”

The two of them exchanged perturbed, skeptical glances, before your mom nodded, and your father let out a resigned sigh.

“Alright, sweetheart. Like we said, we like Sungchan. We just don’t want you two doing anything that you might regret. Either of you.”

“I know, Dad. But we’ve got this. Seriously, it’s… really good with him,” you promised him, a giddy smile coming to your features with your last words.

“We’re happy to hear that, sweetie,” your mom patted your hand.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I don’t want to know anything else about how it happens, but— Does it hurt? Like, right now, does it hurt you?”

“Oh, no, Mom, it’s not painful to the touch or sore or anything,” you reassured her, carefully skirting around the how and instead focusing on the now, pressing on the bite mark to demonstrate that it wasn’t tender like a bruise.

“Good, good, I’m glad.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall to you, and you turned around to smile at Sungchan over your shoulder as he started back towards you all.

“Well, I think it’s time for the tart I’ve got in the fridge, huh?” Your mom beamed at everyone, standing up from the kitchen table.

“That could’ve gone worse,” you declared as soon as your parents’ front door shut behind the two of you, leaving you and Sungchan on the sidewalk. There wasn’t much in the way of leftovers aside from the berry tart, which your mom sent you off with so that your father wouldn’t eat it all.

“You think so?” Sungchan asked warily. “Because I uh… I did hear what you all were talking about when I was in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, I thought you might’ve.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry about all that, Sung. I think they get it now. And really, it was my fault for not at least giving them a heads-up about the bite, it didn’t even cross my mind. We just caught them off-guard.”

Sungchan suddenly stopped the two of you on the empty sidewalk. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running a thumb over your cheekbone, then down your jaw, the side of your neck, until he stopped right over where you knew the mating bite was. His thumb once again stroked over your skin, tracing the shape of the bite and pushing aside your collar when needed.

“Hearing you say that this is what you want, I’m what you want… made me really happy,” he declared simply, eyes still locked on the mark.

“It’s true,” you replied.

A bright, giddy smile spread across his face. “I know. And I knew it as soon as I heard you say it, too.”

You grinned back up at him. “That makes me really happy to hear, Sung. I always want you to know how much I love you.”

He leaned in nearer, and you closed your eyes anticipating a kiss, but instead he just dropped a fond peck to your nose before standing up straight. “I think it’s starting to finally uh, get through my thick skull.”

“Finally,” you echoed with a giggle. “Alright, your place?”

“I actually wanted to ask… Can we go to your place tonight?”

“Finally going to give poor Taro some peace?”

“That, yeah. But I wasn’t even thinking about him to be honest. I just… I want to.”

“Okay, Sung. Come on.” You tugged him down the street in the direction of your apartment.

Sungchan had been to your place on several occasions as your friend and your boyfriend, and yet you were drawing a blank for exactly the last time he had been there. Maybe your third date? Or, technically your fourth date, but you and Sungchan had unanimously agreed to not count that first awkward blind date that the guys set you up on as your official first date. Regardless, it’d been… a while since he’d been over. You kicked your shoes off by the door and didn’t bother to turn the lights on as you deposited the leftover tart in the fridge before beginning your nightly plant-tending. There were a few that needed to be misted still, then you could fully relax. You did the majority of your plant care-taking duties during the actual day, there was just the odd handful that needed a couple good spritzes.

Sungchan watched you patiently as you did so just in the moonlight coming in through the sheers you had over a window. Then, once the spray bottle was put back down, you led the way into your bedroom with maybe a little bit of a skip in your step. While you weren’t a werewolf, you were understanding how nice it felt to have your person in a space that you felt safe and warm and good in again. Like everything was going to be okay forever, maybe.

“You want to wear one of my hoodies?” You joked, rifling through your drawers for some pajamas for yourself.

“You have anything that’d fit?” Sungchan perked up from where he was laying on your bed to ask. He’d already located his few pieces of clothing still stored away here, meanwhile you were struggling as it turns out you very much needed to do a laundry day.

“Try that.” You tossed one at him before turning back around to the dresser. After a few moments, you hadn’t heard anything from behind you, though. “Sung? Love? Everything okay back there?” You looked over your shoulder to find a very cozy-looking werewolf in your extra, extra large hoodie—which just fit him regularly. But it was the eyes-closed, soft, happy smile on his face as he had the hood up around his head, his hair strewn about messily, and he held the ends of the sleeves up to his nose that made you stop in your tracks to just take him in.

His eyes snapped open, and he dropped his hands almost sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, all good. It fits. Thanks, baby.”

“Of course.” You nodded, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

You quickly got into your own pajamas for the night and climbed into bed as well. As you reached over to turn off your lamp, Sungchan stopped your hand.

“Are you going to sleep right now?” He asked.

“Well, no,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you watched his eyes flick between your hand and your neck.

“Can we leave the lights on for just a little longer? You can turn them off as soon as you need to sleep. I just… So I can see it?” He let go of your hand and instead graced a finger over your bite mark.

You dropped your hand, nodding. “Sure, Sung.”

He smiled brightly at you. “Thank you.”

With the added light, you decided to do some reading, and Sungchan kept busy alternating between his phone, and folding and unfolding the same origami heart on your bedside table next to him. But you could feel him look over at you every so often, and you knew he was getting used to the still-new image of you with his mating bite. As you came to the close of a chapter, you tucked your bookmark—the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at the boba shop—back in and set the book aside.

“Sung?”

“Mm?”

Now that you’d gotten his attention, you wordlessly opened your arms, and he immediately launched himself into them. You let out a punched-out giggle as you suddenly had an arm- and lapful of werewolf. He settled in with his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his lips right against your bite again, his arms wrapped around your waist, and one of his legs slung over you, caging you in. You rested your cheek on the crown of his head, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair as you rubbed your other hand up and down his back. The metal of your lunar ring glinted from among his soft brown locks. Waning crescent.

“Can I turn the light off now, love? I don’t think you can see it from this angle, right?” You requested humorously.

“Hm?” Sungchan made a low, slow, questioning noise in the back of his throat, and you knew he hadn’t even processed your ask.

“Light. Off?”

“Mm, yeah, mkay.”

You could feel him nod against you.

Reaching over towards your lamp was a bit difficult, but you were finally able to stretch your fingers enough to turn it off, plunging your room into darkness. Shifting to relax a bit lower into your pillows, you returned your hand to your boyfriend’s back.

“You’re cuddly tonight,” you commented. Cuddly, not clingy like before the bite. You didn’t feel guilty for reading earlier, he’d been content to do his own thing in the meantime, and you’d been the one to initiate the cuddling now. He’d just been very enthusiastic.

“Don’t you know, Miss MCS Major?”

“How long have we known each other, and you don’t know my major?”

“‘Miss Interdisciplinary Major with a concentration in Magical Creatures Studies’ is a bit long, don’t you think?”

“It’s correct.”

“Miss MCS Student?”

“That’s… acceptable.”

“Anyway, don’t you know about werewolf mating bites, Miss MCS Student?”

“Only whatever was covered in my Intro course, the sociocultural importance of them in packs. We haven’t covered that in my class on werewolves yet. And unfortunately, Dr. Kwon’s Interspecies Marriage class didn’t fit in my schedule last year.”

“Scent swapping. After a werewolf couple exchanges bites, they swap scents until they eventually just have one new one.”

“Ah, so it’s my turn to scent you.”

“Something like that.” Sungchan shrugged. “I know that’s the scientific explanation, like, the magianthropological one or whatever. But really… I just know that being here right now feels right. Like I was never meant to do anything else. Like I could go to class, or go hang out with friends, or something. But after, this is where I’m supposed to be. With you.”

“Home.” You replied simply. “You feel like home.”

“Yeah. You’re my home.”

Unable to come up with anything to say near intelligible, you pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before nuzzling your cheek back into his hair. His arms tightened around you minutely, holding you just that much closer to him.

“And you can’t just start calling me ‘love’ and expect me to just do nothing,” he added teasingly.

“Sung.”

“Yeah?”

The darkness made it so that you couldn’t see Sungchan as the two of you laid together, but every place that you touched felt much more alive, so much more real, connected. “I love you.”

He grabbed one of your hands, just to hold it. You let him.

“I love you, too.” His words didn’t hang in the air, they laid over you like a warm blanket, wound and weaved through your mind like your favorite song, and wrapped around you like a familiar hug. You stayed silent as you basked in them, letting out a soft, content hum as you cradled his head closer to your chest.

“I think I really understand her now,” Sungchan spoke up after some time.

You were used to his non-sequiturs by now. “Who?”

“My mom… Who you love isn’t always a choice, but where you go from there is. The choices you make with that love is up to you.” His hand tightened around yours.

“I can’t wait to be there to make more choices with you, Sung,” you murmured, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles.

Entering Half Moon Bakery with a skip in your step, Sungchan stopped you just past the front door. The two of you had been out and about running various errands all day, and had finally popped into your friends’ workplace for a little breather.

“I’ll be right back.” Sungchan pecked your forehead.

“I’ll go order.” You nodded, watching him disappear around the corner that led to the restrooms.

As you walked up to the counter, you offered the familiar wolf behind the counter a big smile. “Hey Jeno!”

“Hey, Y/N!” He grinned back. “So what can I get—”

He was cut off by a clanging from the kitchens behind him that made you jump out of your skin. The werewolf whipped around, concern etched on his features. He looked to you apologetically, “Sorry, I need to—”

“Go check on her,” you agreed, not liking the distinct lack of cursing that had accompanied the raucous noise. “I wanted to pick something new today anyway, so I’ll need some time.”

“Thanks, be right back!” And with that, he darted into the back.

You did in fact meander over to the display case of pastries, bending at the waist to peer at your options. Humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when you heard footsteps coming up behind you, you figured that it was Sungchan.

“Back so soon, love?” You asked with humor in your voice, standing up straight and turning around. All warmth that was in your chest froze and turned to dread when you saw who was actually behind you.

“Y/N. Been a while since you called me that.” You hadn’t seen your ex in over a year. Not since a week after you’d found out he’d been cheating on you throughout the entirety of your short-lived relationship, when he’d come to pick up what few things he had at your place. But somehow he was at your friends’ bakery now.

“I never did.” You reminded him through gritted teeth. “And clearly I didn’t mean to now.”

Pivoting back around, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead at the menu board behind the counter.

“Back to your old type, huh?” He was peeling back the collar of your blouse to reveal all of your mating bite.

You snapped around, slapping his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Humans weren’t good enough, so you’re back on the werewolf dick, of course.”

You couldn’t stand to be in here for another second with him sneering at you like this. He wasn’t worth it. You could leave, go around the corner and text Sungchan and tell him where you are and what happened. The two of you could just go somewhere else for the afternoon.

“I’m not going to justify myself to someone like you, so if you’ll excuse me—” You tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

He seized your wrist. “Y/N, come on—”

“Let go of her.” Jeno had appeared at your side, stepping in between you and pulling your ex’s hand off of you.

“Oh, Jeno,” you breathed his name out as a sigh of relief, almost absent-mindedly, as you withdrew your hand back to your chest.

The human was unfazed, though, a sick delight lighting up his eyes as he looked Jeno up and down. “You must be the lucky dogboy. I should tell you, for your sake, she has a type, if you know what I mean. Dated two werewolves before me, and she broke up with me because I just couldn’t satisfy her like she was used to.”

“You’re disgusting,” you hissed.

“She broke up with you because you’re a cheating scumbag, actually.” Sungchan was back from the bathrooms, and strode up behind your ex, a deep frown already etched onto his features.

“That’s the lucky wolf whose girlfriend you just manhandled.” Jeno pointed up at him.

Sungchan clearly hadn’t witnessed anything, as his eyebrows raised minutely at the word ‘manhandled’ before his frown became a hard glare and he pushed your ex back against the wall by the shoulder. “If you grab her again, you lose the hand and the arm it’s attached to.”

The human looked around Sungchan at you with wide eyes. You nodded firmly in agreement with what your boyfriend had just said. Sounded plenty reasonable to you.

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, we don’t want scumbags for customers,” Jeno growled, folding his arms over his chest.

The human had to wrench his shoulder out from Sungchan’s grip, giving the lot of you a final glare before storming out of the bakery. When you could finally no longer see him, you let out a shaky breath, and Sungchan immediately came over to wrap his arms around you. There was a vein protruding on his forehead that you weren’t used to seeing, and his jaw was still clenched tightly.

“Thanks, Sung.” You pressed yourself into his side, all too happy to be back in his familiar warmth. You weren’t going to forget about your friend that had come to your aid first, though. “You too, Jeno.”

“Yeah, thank you, Jeno.” Sungchan clapped the other werewolf on the back sincerely. “On one hand I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Y/N, but on the other… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t because—”

“You might’ve actually broken his hand if you had been. I know, I know.” Jeno interrupted him humorously, despite how not humorous that outcome would’ve been. Satisfactory in the moment, yes, but ultimately not worth the criminal charges he could’ve pressed against Sungchan. “Try some werewolf meditation apps.”

“They have those?”

“You’ve never had to look into those before. Ha! Mr. Zen Werewolf taking advice on werewolf meditation apps from me! Oh, hold on, she’s going to get a kick out of this one, I’ve got to go tell her.” Jeno pointed to the kitchen over his shoulder with a thumb, turning around and pushing a door open, laughing the whole way back.

As Jeno relayed this hilarious revelation to his girlfriend, Sungchan led you over to a small loveseat in the corner of the bakery, settling the two of you down on it. Judging by the dual cackling laughter now coming from the kitchens, it was going to be a while before you’d be able to get your pastries.

“I know I can’t prevent everything bad ever from happening, but…” Sungchan laced his right hand with your left and rubbed slow circles into your skin with his thumb. “I hope you’ll always let me be there with you after.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your lunar rings displaying matching half moons. “Always, Sung. We made a deal, remember?”

“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

#sungchan #sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #riize #nct x reader #nct #nct imagines #sungchan fluff #riize fluff #nct fluff #i: sungchan #f: love bites #au: strawberry sunday #text #mine #writing #bias tag #*100 #*200 #*300

[wordsarelife]

lockwood & co masterlist

fluff (f), angst (a), suggestive (s), platonic (p), injury/ blood (w)

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❛ 𝐢’𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ❜

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 (34.9k)

blank space (0.7k) — normally lockwood can hide his feelings quite well. that talent seems to fade every time someone tries to flirt with his y/n (f,s)

peace (0.5k) — y/n is all that Lockwood needs, especially in the quiet moments (f,a)

sweet nothing (0.8k) — eating breakfast in bed (f)

stay, stay, stay (1.3k) — you never leave a fight unresolved (f,a)

delicate (0.5k) — some flirty banter in a near death situation (f,s)

king of my heart (1.8k) — there was always this flirty banter between you, without anything ever happening. one day you grow tired of it and leave lockwood to make a choice (f,a,s)

treacherous (1.3k) — How can it be that two people who grew up together hate each other so much? lockwood and you find out that love and hate are closer together than you had thought (f,a,s)

cruel summer (1.3k) — there’s just one bed, luckily you are the most brilliant person lockwood knows… or are you? (f,s)

you belong with me (1.6k) — you have to flirt to finish a mission. much to the dismay of lockwood you are far too good at it (f,s)

the way I loved you (pt 2 of ybwm) (1.2k) — lockwood is protective of what is his and in his own definition, you belong to him (f,a,s)

london boy (1.0k) — lockwood and you finish a study about what defines the greatness of a kiss (f,s)

it's nice to have a friend (0.3k) — you pass out after a dangerous encounter with a ghost (a,f,w)

enchanted (1.0k) — lockwood and you have been in love ever since you first met and it's been quite obvious for anyone else, but you two (f)

seven (sibling!reader) (0.5k) — a mission went badly and you and your brother console each other (f, a, p)

i did something bad (1.2k) — gathering information from a tied up and horny teenage boy should be easy enough, right? (s)

i think he knows (1.3k) — you have to admit your feelings for lockwood after your heartbeat goes through the roof at his touch (f)

change (1.4k) — lockwood realizes how much he missed of his sisters, the reader, life (a,f,p,w)

back to december (1.4k) — you had left lockwood in a night filled with regret and there was nothing you wanted more than to apologise to him (a,f,p)

the best day (0.4k) — domestic fluff with anthony lockwood (f)

this is me trying (1.1k) — you always try to save your friends life at the expanse of your own. this time you might've gone too far (a,p)

my tears ricochet (1.4k) — you save lockwoods life on a job but he can't save you.. but with a twist (a,w,f)

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas (0.5k) — lockwood is as cooky as usual, luckily you are used to it by now (f,s)

driving home for christmas (0.4k) — in which you come home for christmas surprisingly and lockwood can proof that his girlfriend is real (f)

the very first night (0.7k) — you celebrate your birthday for your friends only, lockwood celebrates your birthday for you (f,a,p)

lavender haze (1.2k) — despite kipps best efforts to keep you away from each other, lockwood won't stop flirting with you (f)

all american bitch (3.4k) — everbody knew that there was something wrong in the way your brother talked to you and lockwood wouldn't let you accept it any longer (f,a,s)

pretty isn’t pretty (0.8k) — he was showering you in compliments all while you felt like you weren’t pretty enough (f,a)

i forgot that you existed (0.6k) — lockwoods sibling had a bad day at school (f,p)

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𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐦 (8.2k)

daylight (0.6k) — early morning cuddles with your boyfriend (f)

mastermind (2.3k) — the team has to work together with kipps, for george that means being stuck with the best friend of the blonde leader, y/n. the only person in the whole world that seemed to be smarter than him, that's why he hated her. (a,f)

love story (0.8k) — hiding a relationship becomes a challenge when your bosses are lockwood and kipps, but y/n and george always seem to manage anyway… (f)

i knew you were trouble (0.7k) — you expressed your likeness for george all the time.. seems like he finally gets it (f)

ours (0.3k) — george tries to make reader go to bed (f)

mirrorball (0.7k) — george has been struggling and you help him (a,f)

fearless (1.7k) — george admires you deeply. not only because you're his girlfriend, but because you have an extraordinary gift (f/a)

snowman (1k) — a situation in which you are trapped, causes george and you to confess (f,)

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𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐬 (6.8k)

i know places (1.6k) — all hell breaks loose when your brother finds out about you and quill (f,s)

paper rings (1.5k) — you & quill are basically married, but when will he finally ask? (f)

today was a fairytale (1k) — you and quill go on your first date (f,s)

gold rush (0.8k) — loving quill kipps feels like a gold rush (f,a)

santa tell me (1.2k) — you and quill had been the parents of the group for years, but nothing ever happened between the two of you. now it’s finally time to change that, or atleast your friends think it is (f)

santa clause is coming to town (0.2k) — you and quill know each other so well, you could almost finish each others sentences (f)

under the mistletoe (0.5k) — you and your boyfriend get caught under the mistletoe (f)

you need to calm down (0.4k) — you and quill wind down after a long day (f,w)

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𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (5.5k)

anthony lockwood, illicit affairs series (5.5k) — your secret relationship might not be enough for the future you have ahead of you (a,s,f) one, two, three part four (ending: afterglow) part four (ending: closure)

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𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 (0.6k)

deck the halls (0.6k) — decorating cookies at portland row (f,p)

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49 works

#lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #george karim #netflix #lucy carlyle #ali hadji heshmati #cameron chapman #ghost hunting #ruby stokes #anthony lockwood x sister!reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood headcanons #george karim x reader #george x reader #quill kipps x reader #quill kipps #lizzysmasterlists

[mythicalmyles]

another jeff the killer

ur wish is my cummand

Demon!jeff x reader

(18+ demonic themes, dubcon, somno, talks of anxiety/selfdoubt)

You stared at the candles, flickering around and casting shadows. Your eyebrows furrowed when you finished the Latin chant, nothing happened. Your shoulders dropped in defeat. You needed to pass this test and you knew without the forces of the beyond you were screwed. You knew it, you knew you did. But sitting in that big hall, listening to pencils scrape against paper while your mind went into hysteria.

"Please. Fuck please." You begged, eyes tearing up. Desperation had long since wrapped you up in its clutches, its why you were here now. Almost sobbing and begging something that probably didn't even exist for its help. Just as you resigned all hope, ready to give up and crawl into your bed to accept your life as the worlds biggest failure.

Ten minutes passed and the sobs began flowing from you, body shaking as you saw your demise. If you didn't pass this test you wasted your life, all the hours you had tried so hard to study meant nothing. All you wanted was a memory spell, you knew you knew it. You did.

You ended up running into your room, diving into your bed and hiding under the covers.

You awoke with a loud scream, the feeling of suddenly being full ripping you from your sleep. You awoke to pitch black eyes staring down at you, unnaturally white skin glowing in the night and a large twisted glasgow smile stretching across his cheeks. You froze before letting out a loud moan with the sudden slam of his hips, eyes rolling into the back of your skull. "I was going to eat you, but you looked so cute crying when i didn't show up." His voice was deep and gruff, strained like he was spitting his words at you.

Your wide eyes stared up at him, his cock plunged deep inside of you. All you could do was try and choke out words, only for his hips to snap into yours. "I know wha-what you want." He growled out, quick to begin fucking you. You hadn't been with anyone in so long, it was hard to not curl your toes and back as he pounded you.

You were suddenly glad you lived alone, you could hear your own voice ricocheting off the walls, bouncing back to you. It was embarrassing, hearing yourself loose your mind as the demon you summoned dicked you down. He found himself wandering what other noises he could tear from your pretty throat, he wanted to fuck you so hard no human could ever please you again.

His leathery hand gripped your neck, keeping you pinned in place as he revenged you. His mouth bit and sucked at any flesh it could reach, bruises forming all over your neck and chest. You felt like you were drowning, his hands grasping at your flesh and squeezing.

Drool dripped down from the corners of your mouth, eyes scrunched up shut as you choked and moaned. He fucked you at a supernatural speed, completely overwhelming you. All you could do was moan and stare into those pitch black eyes, body seizing up as you came hard.

"Shi-Fuh-Go-God!" You screamed out, moaning loudly as cum dripped from your cock. "Thats it. Good boy. Take it." Jeff growled out before sinking his teeth into your neck and unloading his cum into you. Jeff flopped down onto you, his entire weight pinning you to the bed as you gasped and stared at the ceiling.

"So. A memory spell?" He muttered into your neck, you felt like your entire being had been drained, barley able to nod into his neck while your body spasmed and twitched.

#demon!jeff #jeff the killer x male reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeffery woods #jeffrey woods #jeff the killer #jeffrey woods x malereader #jeffrey woods x male reader #jeffrey woods x male!reader #jeffrey woods x reader #jeff the killer x malereader #jeff the killer x male!reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x male reader #creepy pasta x reader #creepypasta x male!reader #creepy pasta x male!reader #creepy pasta x male reader #creepy pasta x malereader #creepy pasta #myfic

[chuuyrr]

Request Idea for Scarlet Witch reader! If your interested that is :3

So, idk if your have seen the JJK 0 movie but there is a scene at the end where Gojo confronts Getou and says something and I was wondering if we could get that with Scarlet reader and her partner? Except maybe Gojo and the others witness her say something to him but dont know what she says 👀 it could be a love confession or you could leave it blank with right before Scarlet witch reader finishes him, he gives her a smile?

Maybe even have Scarlet reader walk past Gojo and the others looking almost dead(?) Like her eyes are glazed, blood on her face, head down, ect? Idk how else to describe it 😭 but I have so many ideas and this is just one iv been thinking of 🧍‍♀️

scarlet witch! fushiguro! reader confronts ex-partner similarly to adoptive dad! gojo with geto

jujutsu kaisen x reader

masterlist of the series | first part

╰➤ CW(s): spoilers for jujutsu kaisen 0, major references to multiverse of madness, and scarlet witch in general, angst

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! jujutsu kaisen x teen! reader

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which you, the adoptive child of gojo satoru, the scarlet witch, and the half-younger sibling of fushiguro megumi, repeats his history of having to lose the one who became everything he never wanted to lose.

╰➤ SONG SUGGESTION(s): my tears ricochet and enchanted by taylor swift

there you stood among the debris and broken foundations of buildings and trees left over from the earlier collisions of chaos magic, and cursed energy, gravity in particular.

gojo satoru and the other jujutsu sorcerers who were battered and bruised from earlier's fight watched as you planted your feet on the ground while in mid-air, a small yet gentle turbulent red psionics flowing outwards as you did.

you hung your head low, allowing your [color] locks of hair to fall and cover your face as you walked towards him, whose body had been gravely injured by your final chaos magic attack on him earlier. your steps were heavy and slow as you clutched your bleeding and bruised arm, which was exposed due to tatters on your customized scarlet jujutsu tech uniform.

you were too exhausted to heal yourself with your own abilities. nonetheless, you continued on because you needed to get to him no matter what. even if it broke your heart to see your ex-partner—your partner in such a terrible state as he leaned weakly against a rubble. his black hair was no longer tied in a half-up, half-do; a horrible bleeding dash had been inflicted on him, ripping up his clothes.

as blood dripped down the side of shinya's face, he lifted it and turned to face you, his gray eyes fixed on yours as you stood and loomed over him, where he noticed your expression. it was no surprise that you hung your head low. tears were glistening in your [color] eyes, and that hurt shinya a lot.

shinya wasn't heartless even if he had declared you and the rest of your jujutsu sorcerers family his enemies. he simply buried the feeling away because he had already made his decision. he despised seeing you cry even back then.

"[nickname]," shinya spoke up, his lips curving into a broken smile, "what'cha tearing up for?"

you found yourself clenching your fists, trembling fists to be precise. your knees gradually buckled to the floor, unconcerned that the rough ground would graze and scratch them. shinya furrowed his brows as he slowly extended his hand towards yours, which were flat on your thighs, and that's when he felt your tears fall on the back of his hand.

"you did it, didn't you? you saved the jujutsu sorcerers you considered family from me, the villain, [name]," shinya chuckled softly, shaking his head, "of course you would. you're the scarlet witch. as much as i hate to fucking admit it, you're stronger than me."

"we were supposed to be the strongest together, shin.." you muttered as you clenched your fists even tighter. you were choking on your words, but you held it together and lifted your head to finally face him, locking gazes with his gray eyes—the same ones you loved so much when the two of you first met each other.

but you couldn't find it in yourself right now to adore them. not with shinya's current condition, not when he was dying, and absolutely not when he was staring at you with those eyes.

"go on, [nickname], curse me all you want. it all my fault after all, pretty," shinya intertwined his bloodied and bruised hand in yours.

"how the fuck am i supposed to curse my one and only partner?" your words weren't as venomous as they should have been. in fact, your tone was sullen rather than angry.

shinya's brows drew together, almost sympathetically, but he lets you continue speaking as you shake your head and take a sharp breath of air, "i can't curse you, shinya."

"why?" shinya asked unintelligibly, puzzled and surprised by your choice of words.

shinya's hands were getting colder, and you could feel it as they rose and cupped your warm cheeks. the wind picks up, emphasizing the coldness of his body, and it's only then that you realize your cheeks are wet from tears streaming down your face. your eyes glow a faint red color as they reflect the burning sunset in the background.

"because i love you, hatsuki shinya, and i always have, even back when you left and chose this path. you're my partner—my everything, and it fucking hurts so much," you said with shinya's thumb brushing away your tears.

"damn it, [nickname], curse me a little, will you?" shinya's voice strained as his lips trembled, "stop blaming yourself."

you shook your head, closing your eyes as you held one of his hands, making it cup your face, "i can't."

when the curse-user suddenly wrapped his arms around you, gojo and the jujutsu sorcerers tensed. however, gojo stopped them with a raised hand, realizing that shinya was simply hugging you, before your older brother megumi, maki, nobara, and yuuji could run towards to attack with the intention to protect you from him.

your body ran warm in his embrace, which was becoming colder by the second, and that's when he pressed your body closer to his.

"maybe if i could have been your eyes and seen the world like you did, breathed everything you breathed and felt everything you felt, then maybe.. just maybe, [name].. i could have loved you the way i have always wanted to.."

you buried your face into the crook of his neck, unconcerned about his blood staining your face and everything, or that you were clinging to him so tightly at this point.

"you won't die, shinya," your hushed words rolled off your tongue like a plea.

"not even you can make that promise, [name]," shinya shook his head, rubbing your back to comfort you.

shinya's nose bleeds red, and the next thing you know, he's coughing blood, prompting him to pull your body away from his. your eyes widened as you stared at your palms. your magic hit him too hard earlier and nearly made him decay. shinya was right about your strength. your partner was well aware of how powerful you exactly were.

"do what you have to do," shinya straightened his back, attempting to sit upright, but struggled to do so, "finish what you started."

"shinya.." you spoke up to protest.

"no, [name], i can't stay. not after what I've done to you and everyone, and i want this more than ever," shinya said firmly.

with that, shinya's face crinkled into a smile, a genuine smile, "to have my partner do this."

you nodded your head. it was a difficult pill to swallow, but you had to accept it as it was. no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you loved shinya as much as he loved you, this was inevitable. he was doomed to die, and you had no choice but to live. shinya has already chosen the path of darkness, while you have chosen the path of light.

to simply put it, you and shinya were destined to meet but not to be with each other, and it was the curse of the strongest ones.

with a heavy heart, you gently twisted your dominant hand, allowing red psionics to seep from your fingertips. it was a little faint due to your exhaustion and wounds, but it should suffice. you'll make it work. for shinya.

"you know, the sunset reminds me so much of you," shinya's eyes were now half-lidded and drooping from exhaustion.

"and just like the sunset, i'll see you again. maybe not in this life, or in the afterlife, but perhaps in another life or universe, and i'm confident that i will love every version of you, over and over, fushiguro [name], because i love you in every universe," shinya said, his voice barely audible, but you heard it nonetheless.

as shinya smiled at you and spoke such words, you mouthed them back, and before the jujutsu sorcerers knew it, you maneuvered your hand and the other, using your red psionics once more to end the curse user.

you wanted to close your eyes, not wanting to see what will become of shinya, but you read his thoughts loud and clear, and he called out to you, telling you not to take your gaze away from him.

"you could never hurt me," said shinya through his thoughts to comfort you even in his final moments, "i just feel you, [nickname]."

you wanted to fight back against his words, but you did what he wanted. you stood there watching and letting your chaos magic struck him. you wanted to scream and cry your soul out. you wanted him to stop staring at you with those eyes and that goddamned smile.

life flashed before shinya's eyes like a movie, and you saw everything as you subconsciously read his thoughts, from him first meeting you to the two of you fighting like a damned old married couple, to you and shinya accomplishing missions together as special grade sorcerers, to you and him coming home together after a long day, all the way to him staring at the sunset wishing it was you instead.

as your chaos magic accelerated the aging of his body to the point where there was no trace of him left, but only a hair tie—the hair tie he stole from you and had been using since he lost his. you picked it up from the ground and held onto it tightly, remembering him doing so.

was it really a curse of the strongest ones? was it fate for the scarlet witch to lose the people she cares about? it could be either, but as you turn your heel and walk away, you can't help but think about your adoptive father's words;

you straightened your back, took a deep breath, slipped the hair tie on your wrist, just below your black wristers, and raised your gaze to the horizon. hatsuki shinya was finally at rest and most likely reunited with his father-figure, mahiru, in the afterlife, but a part of you had died along with him.

shinya was more than just your partner or someone who made you feel less lonely; he was your other half, your soulmate. he was everything, and you loved him with your whole heart and soul.

love is the most twisted curse of them all.

it had to be that. you were certain of it.

"[name]-chan," yuuji attempted to speak to you as he walked up to meet you mid-way, but you remained silent and continued walking.

"[name]," megumi pried this time, attempting to converse with his half-brother, but you, like towards yuuji, ignored him.

"gojo-sensei, [name]-chan..." nobara frowned as she approached your adoptive dad in concern.

"let her be, kugisaki," gojo response was quiet and sullen as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

gojo bit the inside of his cheek as he and everyone else noticed the look in your eyes. it was completely empty, a void of nothingness. they were even puffy red from your tears earlier. you couldn't even describe how you felt, other than grieving and feeling; it just hurt so much. white noise was even filling your ears.

you walked past everyone, your head low as you wiped the blood—shinya's blood to be exact—that had stained your face, the very burden on your shoulders.

gojo satoru knew exactly how you felt—the unexplainable pain and grief—and he couldn't help but sympathize with you as he stared down at your figure, which was getting smaller and smaller as you walked further past them. tour uncle suguru geto was once a hatsuki shinya in gojo's life.

although he and the others didn't hear what you two said, gojo knows it was similar to the last time he spoke to his own partner.

and because gojo knows how it feels to have loved and lost, he feels guilty that his daughter, his most beloved child, is going through the same hell he did. it was a scene gojo was all too familiar with, especially with the bitter ending wherein love truly is the most twisted curse of them all.

[ author's notes ! ngl, i lowkey hate the ending i wrote because some tears are in my eyes yk LMAO and the fact that i had just a heartwrenching skk ao3 fic does not help at all, but i did enjoy writing this—somewhat—because it felt right to have reader's partner end up the same way as geto because this is reader taking after gojo satoru, but also because i got to reference mcu! wanda maximoff's grief too, which i hope i was able to encapture in this writing, so thank you for requesting this foxy. hoped you like it ! ]

[ p.s. ! the song suggestions are highly recommended btw—i was listening to them while i was writing this. it makes the angst hit harder and more differently. 10/10 experience 😌🤝]

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen drabble #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x you platonic #jjk x reader platonic #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo imagine #gojo angst #platonic reader #scarlet witch reader

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : part 8 ‘Dust to Dust’

A/N: I sat down and wrote this all in one go. I literally could not stop writing. The words just kept flowing and this is just going to be one cluster fuck of emotions.

Summary: A winter blizzard has you and Joel trapped in the apartment together. You’re worried about Tess as she hasn’t been home in days. To calm you down, Joel suggests you have some whiskey with him.

~work count : 5.3k~

Warnings: age gap (m/c is 28) angst, trauma, PTSD, triggering themes, drinking to cope, graphic mentions of death, loss, child death, angst, lots of swearing, repressed feelings, unestablished relationship, mild violence, emotional trauma, angry outbursts, feelings of guilt, pain, comfort, soft ! joel, feelings of agony, angry ! joel (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter :

“Dust to Dust” by The Civil Wars

“my tears ricochet” by Taylor Swift

“I’m with You” by Vance Joy

“After the Storm” by Mumford and Sons

“evermore” by Taylor Swift

“Rescue” by Lauren Daigle

“Sign of the Times” by Harry Styles

___________________

December 24th 2020 : Boston QZ

Winter was already proving to be unforgiving this year. The Boston QZ had been hit with a 4 day blizzard. It was like something out of the movies. You weren’t even sure how many feet of snow had fallen already. The wind was howling and the blowing snow was creating a thick wall. Opaque and ferocious, this blizzard had enveloped the city into darkness. Tess had gotten caught up in the storm days ago. Joel insisted that she head home with him before the storm worsened but she had something to finish. Rather, someone. He trusted his partner enough to find shelter if things turned for the worst so he had headed home. Tess was too tough to let some snow take her out. She had managed to seek shelter elsewhere with a few other QZ residents that were waiting out the storm.

It was just you and Joel in the apartment now. He showed no signs of concern if Tess had survived the brunt of the storm. He was the most relaxed you had seen him in months. He was laying on the couch, his head resting comfortably against the pillow with his arms crossed over his chest. His broken watch is facing towards you. He wasn’t exactly asleep, just resting his eyes.

You were sitting on the floor across from him, your back against the wall with your nose buried deep in a book. It was the only viable distraction for you to not think about Tess, and her chance of survival. The book you were reading was titled, “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Brontë. The pages were worn and some were even torn. You appreciated the foot notes that the previous owner had left. You could tell whoever owned this book, adored it deeply. You wondered if that person had made it out alive, and if they did, did they miss this book as much as you imagined them to? You found yourself enveloped in the story of Catherine and Heathcliff. A tragic romance nonetheless. You would describe their love as being soulmates. Their love existed on a higher, spiritual plane. Two people who have an affinity for one another. This affinity draws them together, irresistibly. You recount all the times Heathcliff refers to Catherine as his soul. His fucking soul.

Heathcliff reminds you of Joel, in some aspects. It’s their broodiness, you first thought. Their passion for the ones they love. Heathcliff was dealt challenging hands, yet his love for Catherine was undeniable. He was cruel, vindictive and he sought revenge. You didn’t think Joel carried these traits. Or perhaps, it was your heart trying to convince you that Joel Miller was a good man. You stop at the part where Heathcliff finds his Catherine on her death bed. The words he has spoken are chilling.

‘You teach me how cruel you’ve been-cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort–you deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me and cry and wring out my kisses and tears. They’ll blight you– they’ll damn you. You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right- answer me for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart-you have broken it- and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much worse for me, That I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you- oh, God would you like to live with your soul in the grave?’ You slammed the book shut. It was too much and you decided then that Heathcliff was a monster. Your Joel was nothing like him. You couldn’t imagine him acting like this, speaking to Tess, or you on your deathbed in this fashion? You hadn’t realized a stray tear had rolled down your cheek and when you felt it, you quickly wiped it away. Heathcliff’s undying love for Catherine turned him cold, unforgiving, and violent.

The sound of the book slamming shut was enough for Joel to open his eyes, turning his head slightly to look over at you. He had a deep frown on his face. Had you been crying? He had seen you wipe the tear away.

You had set the book down to the side then, pushing it far away as you processed what you had just read. You hadn’t even noticed that Joel was awake now. That he had seen you wipe a tear. You were too consumed in Catherine and Heathcliff to notice.

You turned your head to the side, resting it against the wall and you listened to the howling wind. Finally, you spoke. “Joel? Are you awake?..”

He closed his eyes then, breathing in through his nose and exhaled softly before he slowly sat up. “Yeah, Doll.” He rasped. “I’m up. ‘You alright over there?” His Texas accent was thick, and it melted through your body like warm whiskey. Coating your senses in a figurative blanket. Warm, and familiar.

“Is Tess going to be alright? It’s been days and the storm hasn’t let up and what if she–”

He cut your ramblings off then.

“Gwen. Take it easy, breathe. She’s g’nna be alright. It’s Tess. She ain’t gonna let some snowstorm take her out.” He was looking at you then but your eyes were still trained on the window.

“Hey, look at me. Gwen?” His voice was soft but his tone held some urgency. He didn’t want you worrying your mind over things that were out of your control.

Slowly, you looked over at him. His brown eyes were soft, and inviting.

“You gotta trust me when I tell you that she’s g’nna be fine. Trust me.”

You nodded then. Appreciating his reassurance in that moment because truthfully, you were absolutely terrified for Tess’s safety.

“Good girl.” He placed his hands on his knees as he slowly rose from the couch and his footsteps headed into the kitchen. Your eyes followed his back, watching him.

“Where are you going?..”

He paused then. Turning to face you. He had never seen you this way before. You looked so fragile, so delicate unlike your normal sarcastic self. Where was that part of you now? In that moment, he missed your smart mouth, your banter and witty remarks.

“Nowhere, Doll. ‘Jus g’nna grab some whiskey and a couple glasses. You look like you could use a drink.”

You let out a sigh of relief. Rationally, you knew there was nowhere for Joel to go. Your fear was eating away at you, bit by bit. Fear was clouding your sense of rationale and you didn’t know how to control it.

He returned to you then. Sliding a glass onto the coffee table and poured a splash of the amber liquid into it. He motioned you over then before he sank down into the couch once more and poured his own glass. “C’mon. We’re gonna take our minds off of the situation that we can’t control, alright? Drink with me, Doll.”

You watched as the liquid splashed into your glass before you had scooted over to the coffee table. Sitting down on the other side of it, facing him with your elbows resting on the worn wood. You picked up the glass then, swirling the liquid around. Before you could take a sip, Joel had leaned over the table, his glass outstretched to you and his eyes focused on yours. You followed his motion and clinked your glasses together before you brought the rim of your glass to your lips and took a sip. The whiskey tasted like how you imagined Joel’s kisses did. Smoky, sweet, and absolutely fucking addicting.

“I see why you enjoy this stuff.” There was a hint of a smile over the rim of your glass.

“Yeah?. It ain’t half bad. ‘Nothin like the stuff I used to drink back in Austin. Some of the best whiskey I have ever had was from Texas. Would never say that outloud to any Kentuckians, they’d probably shoot me on the spot.” He chuckled a little then as he took a sip, far larger than yours.

You stifled a laugh then, shaking your head at his comment.

“Well, it’s a good thing there’s no Kentuckians around to hear your blasphemy, huh?”

He nodded then, holding his glass between his knees, against his thigh comfortably as he looked at you.

“Yeah, thank fuck for that. I think they’re just afraid to admit that Texas just does everything better.”

You took another sip then, this one bigger. You wanted to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.

“Easy there, cowboy.”

He raised his eyebrow at you then. “Mmm. It's alright, Doll. You Chicagoans wouldn’t understand good whiskey if it slapped ya in the face.”

He brought his glass back up to his lips, smirking over the rim at you.

“Ohh. I see how it is. Well, fine. You may have the best Whiskey, but we have deep dish Pizza, and a fucking gigantic, BEAN.”

Joel let out a deep chuckle then, shaking his head as he took another sip. The liquor was already warming him up in a physical sense, but you were warming his soul without even realizing it.

“Deep dish pizza sounds like a fuckin heart attack on a damn plate. The ‘hell is someone supposed to do with a giant bean?”

You laughed then. It was a small one but it was undeniably, your sweet laugh.

“Oh, it WAS a heart attack on a plate man but god, it was so good! Friday nights were our order out nights and we used to get Lou Malnati’s like, every other week? Shit was so good, Joel. The cheese was endless and the crust? It was so buttery and flakey. Melted in your mouth. As for the bean, you don’t do anything with it! It’s just Chicago's most famous landmark. Serious tourist attraction. If you didn’t visit the BEAN, you weren’t doing Chicago justice.”

He took another sip then as he listened to your laugh, your voice as you recounted a memory of the past. “I’m sorry Doll, but endless amounts of cheese sounds like a terrible fuckin time to me. This so-called BEAN sounds interesting though. I’ll give you that.”

“If you're lactose intolerant then that insane amount of cheese is most definitely, NOT a good idea.”

He took another sip then and he was enjoying the fact that you were comfortable enough to talk about these things and he hoped that in doing so, you weren’t thinking about the storm any longer.

“So Chicago has heart attack pizza, and a giant bean. Anything else I should know about it?”

You paused then. Recounting your 11 short years in the city like it was just yesterday. There was so much more you had wanted to see and experience.

“I um, I only lived there till I was eleven. On outbreak day, my family and I headed north. As far north as we could go. My uncle had a horse ranch in Michigan. It was close to the Canadian border. I stayed there till I was 20.” You had taken a big sip of the liquor then. This was the first time you had ever spoken about your experience when the world as you knew it came to an end.

Joel was frozen on the spot. Your confession was not something he had been expecting and it hit him like a ton of fucking bricks that you were only a year younger than Sarah when she– he polished off his glass then. Chucking the liquor down his throat, and pouring himself another shortly after. He splashed a bit more into your glass as well.

“I’m sorry Doll. We don’t have to talk about this stuff. I don’t wanna go and make you upset or anythin.” He was careful with his choice of words and the tone he used. He could tell just by your demeanor, that this was a sensitive topic for you.

In response, you took a bigger sip of the whiskey, waving your hand slightly and shaking your head. “No, Joel. It's fine. Really. I want to talk about it, if that’s alright? I just–this is the first time I have spoken to anyone about it.”

He nodded then and rested the glass against his thigh once more. “Sure we can talk about it, Doll. Whatever makes you comfortable, alright? So, the horse ranch that your uncle owned, what was it like?”

This was a side of Joel that you never thought you’d see. He was so gentle, so understanding and this is why your comparison of Joel to Heathcliff, was false.

“Oh, it was wonderful. I’d go up there every Summer for a few months. The first time I was on a horse was when I was 7. Had been around them since I was a little thing, according to my mom. Anyway, my uncle bred Quarter Horses. You have those in Austin, right?”

He nodded then.

“We had a few Mustang’s as well. Rescued them from a kill pen down south. Some other livestock as well. There was one quarter horse that was my absolute favorite. Her name was Honey. She was a Palomino with the softest dappling. She was the sweetest soul, Joel. I’d be mucking out stalls, doing my usual chores and she’d just follow me around. We were best friends. She taught me so much and–” You paused then, tears beginning to well in your eyes at the memory.

Joel set his glass down on instinct and leaned over the table, gently grabbing your soft hands in his larger ones. “Hey. Hey, Gwen. ‘It’s alright. You’re okay Doll, ‘m right here, okay? I’m right here.”

You sniffled a little then feeling a spark of electricity when he had ever so gently grabbed your hands. You could see the worry strike across his face as you had teared up.

“She died 5 years after the outbreak. I was sixteen then. Some raiders came through in the middle of the night that winter. Shot her and–most of the others. I was fucking devestated. Who the hell just shoots an animal, a pet like that, Joel? Then I remembered that all morals were lost after the outbreak. No one gave a shit about a fucking horse.” You spat the last part out. You had lost so much after the world ended and Joel had no idea just what you had to endure to survive.

His hands gently squeezing yours was enough to bring you back down to reality. You took notice of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hands. His knees were pressed firmly against the coffee table.

“Gwen, I'm so sorry about Honey. She sounds incredible. I’m sure your bond with her was unbreakable. Horses are incredibly intuitive creatures, ya know. She loved you Gwen, I'm sure of it.”

You let a few tears slip then from his affirmation. You couldn’t help it and Joel had let go of your one hand to gently brush your tears away. He found himself gently holding your cheek in his warm palm, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Yeah, you’re right. She did love me, and I still love her.” You subconsciously found yourself leaning into his comforting touch, your eyes closing momentarily as you took a deep breath and looked up at him, your eyes glassy.

“Joel, I’m not sure I can say much more.”

He nodded then, still gently holding your face, afraid that if he let go, you would shatter.

“That’s’alright darlin. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, okay? Just, tell me if there’s anythin else I should be doing to comfort you.”

You grabbed your glass then, downing the contents quickly before you reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured more into your glass. The buzz coming on was definitely a slow fucking burn.

“After she died, things just started to get worse. By the time I was 20, our family members were being picked off. If it wasn’t infected, it was raiders or natural causes. It’s like we were plagued or somethin. We thought we were safe just from how remote the area was. We weren’t near any major cities or anything like that. We were practically out in the wilderness.”

You had a slight flush to your cheeks now from the amount of liquor you had consumed and before your brain could stop you, you were reaching up and brushing your fingertips against his plush lips. When you realized what you had done, your eyes had gone wide and you went to move your fingers but Joel had reached out and gently grabbed your wrist holding your hand in place.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have.”

“Gwen, you’re okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything, okay?” He breathed out. Selfishly, he didn’t want your touch to cease. He was afraid that at any moment now you would pull away from him completely.

You watched with a drunk gaze as he gently set your wrist back down on the coffee table and you took another sip. Starting to feel the full effects of the whiskey taking place.

“Joel, tell me something about you, please. Anything. Doesn’t have to be super personal. Just, anything you feel comfortable with.”

Joel was a little stunned that you had wanted to know anything about him. He didn’t think you wanted to be close to him at all, in any sense.

“Alright, anything at all?” He cleared his throat then, recounting the years before the outbreak and what he missed the most, that wouldn’t give away too much about himself.

“I used to be a carpenter. My younger brother, Tommy was one as well. We’d take just about any job. Whatever pays the bills, right? I enjoyed it for the most part. The real bummer was the weird fuckin hours we worked but I enjoyed bein on my feet and having something to do.”

“You were a carpenter?” You slurred slightly, the rim of the glass was resting against your forehead gently.

“I was, yeah. Why? Do I not look like the carpenter type?”

You shook your head then, setting the glass down and pushed it far away.

“Took you more for the lumberjack type honestly.”

Joel chuckled then, he had gently released your hands from his grip then when he deemed you were mentally stable again and he leaned back against the couch, his arm resting along the back of it now, with his drink in hand.

“Coming from you, I’ll go ahead and take that as a compliment. Cause I’m sure that’s what you meant it as.”

You had 100% meant it more than a compliment but these were just your drunk words talking, right? You had the whiskey to use for an excuse.

“What do you miss most from the past? Or, what do you think about the most?” You asked.

Joel paused then as the conversation dipped back down into a heavier one.

“What do I miss the most?” ‘My daughter’, he thought to himself

He couldn’t tell you about Sarah. It was too soon, too painful of memories to bring up. If he told you about how his daughter died in his arms 17 years ago, he’d be opening up to you entirely. The thought of him doing this terrified him.

So he did what he did best, he lied. “A good, American style cheeseburger and a pack of cold ones, on ice.” he said as he took another long sip of his whiskey.

You laughed then, nearly snorting through your nose because that was the most Joel answer he could have given you.

“Are you fucking serious? A good American style cheeseburger and a pack of cold ones? Man, that was literally the most Texas thing I think you have ever said to me.”

“You bet your ass that’s what I miss the most, ‘darlin.” He winked then, for good measure. He was starting to feel his own buzz come on and his cheeks were looking flushed like yours.

Did he just fucking wink at you or were you really that drunk that you were hallucinating things now?

“You’re fuckin unbelievable, Miller.”

You polished off your glass then and by your slight sway as you sat on the floor, Joel could tell you had tipped over the edge a bit so he did the right thing and grabbed your empty glass and pushed it to the far side of the table along with the bottle.

“Can I get you some water or somethin, doll?”

You shook your head then, very slowly.

“Nope, I’m good, no water for me. Appreciate the offer though. can I—would it be alright if I came and sat by you?”

His eyebrow slightly raised in your direction and his heart fucking skipped a beat when you asked if you could come sit by him. Alcohol made you nervous, and ballsy at the same fucking time. What a dangerous combination.

He nodded then, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him.

You slowly rose from where you were sitting on the floor and made your way over to the couch, plopping down beside him with a thud. His fingers that were resting along the back of the couch were now lightly grazing your shoulder and he couldn’t help but gently grasp at your shirt, sliding the material through his fingers. He was so dangerously close now you could nearly taste the whiskey on his breath.

“You cold?” He asked when he noticed you shiver slightly, it was a different kind of shiver, the good kind.

“No. No. I’m good.”

He didn’t listen and reached behind him, grabbing the thick quilt and draping it over you gently then.

“If ‘m overstepping, just let me know. I’ve had this question on my mind for, well, let’s just say awhile. What’re all your tattoos mean? I’ve uh-seen a few, here and there.” His tone sounded nervous. Why was he nervous? It was just a simple, normal question after all. It was the close proximity that you were to him that was really tripping him up.

“Oh, you’ve noticed them, huh?” You had the tiniest smirk on your lips then as you looked at him. The alcohol made you all warm and fuzzy inside, but the way Joel was looking at you now, had the same effect. This one was even more intense.

You sat up then, rolling up the sleeves of your hoodie. You had an array of wildflowers on your forearm, above it on your bicep was a small horseshoe and when you turned your arm around, you had your zodiac sign written out, ‘Aries’ you then rolled your jeans up your ankle revealing a knife slicing through a rose. The biggest shock of all is when you had turned your back to him and slowly lifted the bottom of your sweatshirt. In the middle of your lower back, higher than a tramp stamp, was a single, delicate butterfly.

He nearly sucked in a breath at the sliver of exposed skin but you had turned around again before he had a chance to brush his fingers against it.

“The horseshoe means the most to me. Got it after Honey died. The rest of them were pretty much my fuck it, the world has ended and I’ve got nothing to lose, choices.”

“Well, I think they’re all pretty fuckin cool. Thought about gettin a few myself at one point but never pulled the trigger on it.”

“Damn.” You said, slightly disappointed. “You definitely could have rocked a sleeve or somethin, I bet.”

“There ain’t no way. You’re just being nice for nothin.” He chuckled.

“No, no! I’m serious. You’d look good.”

He cleared his throat a little then. “Where the hell did you manage to find someone to tattoo you in the middle of the fucking end of the world?”

“My cousin was actually a tattoo artist. He had to make his own tattoo gun from scratch but honestly, he did a good enough job for the materials he had.”

He nodded then.

“Well, if on the off chance we ever run into a tattoo artist in this god forsaken, shit hole of a world, I’ll get a tattoo.”

“Oh bull fuckin shit man, you won’t. You’re serious?” You totally believed that Joel was completely shitting you there’s no way he’d really go and do that.

“I’m dead serious. We find one and I'll get a tattoo. Swear on what’s left of my life.” Based off his tone alone, you could tell he really wasn’t bluffing so you grasped each other's hands, and shook on it.

“I’ll hold you to it, Miller.”

______

You weren’t sure how much time had passed with how easily your chatter together had flowed. You both found yourselves leaning in towards each other and his fingers hadn’t moved from the spot on your shoulder. The chemistry was undeniable. You just got on together so well and now it seemed like you both weren’t trying to fight it. You were just letting it happen.

There was always one question simmering in your mind. Why did Joel constantly wear a broken watch? You had no idea that asking him this question would have consequences. If you had known this, you would have never asked.

You couldn’t help it, the alcohol was still bubbling in your gut and you didn’t think it was a terrible question to ask. Boy, were you wrong.

“Joel? Why do you always wear that broken watch on your wrist?” It was just a question, a simple question. One that anyone would ask.

Joel immediately tensed up. As soon as, ‘broken watch’ slipped past your pretty lips, it was like it all came rushing back at once. Like he was constantly being knocked into a treacherous wave, gasping for air but never reaching the surface. A figurative knife had been twisted into his gut, sending white hot pain surging through his veins. His ears had started to ring as he recounted his baby girl's screams. The bullets whizzing past, her body tumbling into the dry grass. “C’mon baby girl, I gotta get you up.” The look on Tommy’s face as he watched his brother hold his dead daughter, clutched against his chest, sobbing.

He didn’t even hear you ask him if he was okay. He could hear her screams getting louder, and louder. The bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, lifeless eyes, Tommy, help me. The bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, the bullets. The bullets. The bullets. Her body—

“DON’T FUCKIN TOUCH ME!”

Joel’s sudden, loud and almost pained outburst, had you stumbling against the back of the couch, like a frightened animal.

“Joel I’m sorry— I didn’t know I’m sorry I should have never asked you.”

He looked over at you slowly then, his eyes were stinging with tears that he refused to let spill over and he couldn’t hold it back.

“Why do I fuckin wear this watch, Gwen? You really want to know?” He spat out.

“Joel no, it’s okay I don’t need to know I’m—”

“My dead fucking daughter gave me this watch on my 36 birthday, 17 fucking years ago. She went and got it fixed for me because she knew I’d never go and do it myself. She died bleeding out in my fucking arms and you wanna know what killed her?” He seethed.

“Not cordyceps.” “The fucking military shot her down, in my arms. THE FUCKING MILITARY SHOT US WHEN WE WEREN’T INFECTED. SHE HAD A TWISTED FUCKING ANKLE AND THEY SHOT HER!”

He yelled out, almost in a wail tone and he picked up the empty glass and threw it at the wall as hard as he could, it shattered into a million tiny pieces on impact. You were fucking stunned, and trembling now as his gaze hardened on you.

“So there you go. I hope that fucking answers your goddamn question.” He was breathing heavily, seeing red behind his eyes and when he saw you trembling, he wanted to laugh but instead, it came out more like a choked sob. This man was absolutely broken in front of you and all you could do was watch.

“She died in my fucking arms, on my goddamn birthday. You wanna know what I did after that, huh? Sweet Gwen?” He leaned towards you then, his tone was husky and low.

“I got my revenge on every single one of those motherfuckers. You wanna know how many men I killed, baby? How many innocent lives I yanked away? I’m a murderer, Gwen. I’m a fuckin cold blooded killer.”

“Even after all the bloodshed on my hands, it still wasn’t enough. There’s a massive fuckin hole in my heart that ain’t ever gonna be filled because she’s gone, she’s fuckin gone and she ain’t ever coming back. They took her from me.” He sobbed. “They took my beautiful fuckin baby girl from me!” He picked up the other glass and threw it at the wall in the same manner as the other and when he reached for the bottle, your hand had gently grasped his wrist, ceasing his movements.

“I said don’t fuckin TOUCH ME!”

“Joel.”

“Joel.”

“JOEL.”

“Joel. Listen to me, listen to me, please!” You pleaded, begging him to come back to you. It absolutely shattered you inside to see him like this. You felt so fucking guilty for asking him about the watch. This was all your fault, you said to yourself. All you’re fucking fault.

He was already pulling his wrist from your grasp, his breaths were shallow and his eyes were wide, and frantic.

You tightened your grip on his wrist then, your other hand reached out and grabbed his face, gently holding it between your fingers, the stubble from his beard was tickling the soft skin on your palm.

“Joel.” You spoke softer this time, hoping to ease him down from his trauma response.

“Joel, look at me, please. You’re okay. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

He met your gaze then, his skin had a slight sheen to it from the sweat building up on it and his lips were moving but no words were coming out. He was truly broken.

“You’re okay, Joel. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” You reassured him.

A few stray tears had spilled from his eyes and he was already trying to vigorously wipe them away. This was too vulnerable for him. This was too much. Too much for him to handle. Too soon. Too fast. Too everything.

He suddenly found himself grasping for you, breaking his wrist free, only to wrap his arms around you, nearly knocking the wind out of you from how hard he had hugged you. He hugged you like his life depended on it. He was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear into thin air. His hard, rough exterior was melting away before your very eyes.

You gently found yourself grasping the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling how soft it really was. He leaned into your touch, grasping onto your waist harder. You swore you’d have bruises left behind from how hard his fingertips were holing onto you.

“I’m right here. I’m right here, Joel. Always going to be here.”

You refused to let eachother go till you could feel his heartbeat return to normal, till his fingers loosened their grip around your waist. Soon his touch was gone all together and the couch felt cold and empty without his presence. All that was left was the smell of his whiskey, and a sizzled out flame, depleted of oxygen, dying in the pit of your soul.

You heard the bedroom door slam shut shortly after as you pulled your knees up to your chest, processing everything that had just happened.

One thing was for certain, nothing was ever going to be the same after tonight.

CHAPTER 9:

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #tlou x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #burning in a hopeless dream fic #tight jeans javi #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x f!oc

[eddiemuonson]

Break Free - Bucky Barnes x f!Reader / Part 3

Summary: You were an infiltrated nurse working for HYDRA and takes care of Bucky Barnes, who's still triggered and being used as The Winter Soldier.

Part Two

Warnings: blood, violence, fluff

Word count: 2.4k

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You felt every little hair on your body chill, and your spine stiffened by the look Bucky gave you. He didn't remember you this time. He didn't know it was you. He only knew you were his mission.

He walked towards you while holding a knife in one hand and used his metal arm to grab your neck, making you gasp for air. His grip was tight, and he never left his gaze, his blue eyes were darkened, his frown showing pure hatred.

Alexander Pierce was standing by the cell, watching you almost fall apart in front of him, because that's what he wanted.

Barnes pointed the knife on your stomach, and you flinched, trying to find strength to make him recognize you. You tried to hold his arms, but he's too strong and shakes you off of him.

"Bucky, it's me. It's (Y/N). Please, don't do that", you beg. Your voice is wavering as you try too hard to keep yourself alive. You feel the tip of the knife piercing slowly through your skin and you groan.

"I am not Bucky", he said. His voice as cold as his metal arm touch. He still looked at you like he wanted to make you his trophy.

"Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you think that, for a second, you'd outsmart me?", Pierce asked. He walked towards both of you, standing behind Bucky. "You think you can come to my place, fool on my people and leave without paying for that?".

The Winter Soldier still had your neck around his metal hand, while slowly pushing the knife on you. You felt your skin burning.

"What makes you think we're that stupid, you bitch?", Alexander came closer to you, and you tried to hold his gaze. At the same time, you looked at Barnes again, with pleading eyes.

"Please. Just don't", you tried holding your tears that started streaming down your cheeks, your body was stiffened and you were sweating from all the stress.

For a slight second, James noticed his eyes flicker, and he felt a stomp in his brain. He let go of your neck, holding your arm closer to him, taking you out of the cell.

"She's my mission, I'm going to finish it", he said, simply. He walked on your side outside your cell, and Pierce asked him where he was taking you. "I'll take it from here."

You weren't sure it was safe out there with him, especially when he's been triggered for less than an hour, and he always acted dangerous by then. You were walking in a hallway you never learned about and felt his grip loosen when a man stood a few steps away from you two.

You've seen him there before. Once, at least. He said he was German, and he wanted to work for HYDRA, but by the time they turned him down. He had this different way of looking at Bucky, and you straightened your sight.

"Hello, James", he said. "You might remember me, I'm Helmut Zemo". Oh, so that's the one. He was holding a .40 in his hand. Zemo didn't make a move, you felt Barnes breathing on your neck and realized this wouldn't be a conversation.

The soldier fired without a warning, but the other guy had learned how to dodge and had good reflexes and started shooting against him as well. Nothing would be more terrifying than standing there in the middle of a shooting, while Bucky tried to protect you.

"She's not your mission anymore, Barnes. She's worth a lot of money now, millions of dollars, I might say". Helmut sounded like you were some kind of gambling game he was about to win, and then the feeling of regret hit you in the pit of your stomach.

You didn't want all of this to be happening, but if you were to guess, you kinda could see that coming. Zemo aimed the artifact straight to your face, in an attempt to shoot you dead instead of making you suffer, but James made his metal arm an armor and the bullet ricocheted.

Bucky made you run with him, your body completely glued to his while he was looking for a way out. You still had no idea what he wanted to do with you at that point, but he saved you anyway.

While he was trying to find a way of getting out, going unnoticed, Zemo made his presence more than surprising and choked Bucky from behind. You let go of him for a second and stumbled on a pile of boxes, making a lot of folders hit the floor, papers spreading all over.

There were countless notes about super soldiers and people who were given the serum. There were pictures of them, reports and applications. Maybe there was something about him there, but you didn't have time to look for it.

Maybe you should, but that would slow you down. "Fuck it", you thought. You crouched on the floor, picking up all the papers you could, flipping through them. You spent several minutes looking for it, both of them still fighting hand to hand, leaving bruises on each other.

The sound of a shot makes you feel goosebumps in your body, and you look up, watching Barnes lean on a table, holding his flesh arm. Helmut was dead-staring at him, holding his gun while aiming for his head.

As soon as you get up, you get his attention, trying to confront him. "You want to play a hero only to get money, I thought you were smarter than that".

He looked at you, letting out a sarcastic laugh. His facial expression changed to amusement, while he was walking towards you to get closer. Zemo made it to you, and his expression changed once again.

"And you should know a woman doesn't get to be as important for the system as you think", he replied, slowly. He let out a scoff, turning around, looking at Bucky.

The soldier started to get on his feet, but Helmut stopped him, pointing the gun at him again.

"No, I'll be back to you in a second. No, I want you-", he said, now pointing at you. "To know no bitch screws around like that with my people".

His people? You thought he wanted to work there. You thought he was trying to get something from them, sure, but to understand he was already one of them made you tremble.

"And you know why you were his mission? Because that's what you deserve. You are playing a smart-ass princess who helps the others, but you're just another scumbag here". His words were thrown out like shrapnel, and they hit you hard.

You obviously didn't expect to be treated nicely there, considering the kind of company you were working for. But you had no idea you'd be one to be with a gun pointed at you.

Barnes was silent until he realized Zemo's words affected you in a way that made the soldier strike his knife on the man's back. You heard a low groan and watched as he searched for an object in his pocket and landed it on the floor.

You only had time to feel your heart thumping in your ears before you could run only a few feet away and the small device blew up the room. Helmut was lying on the ground, the knife still placed on his back. You were on your back on the floor, the entire room filled with fog and wreckage all over.

Your body hurt and it weighed you down, your legs were weak from all the stress and fright you've been through. Panting, you stood up and started looking for Bucky across the room, there were piles of ripped papers all over, the furniture was in a million pieces and Zemo was probably dead, at least you hoped.

You found Barnes unconscious again, he was bleeding through his arm and his face was injured from the fight and the blow up. It didn't take longer for him to wake up again, coughing from the dust.

"Hey, hey. It's me", you grabbed his face gently, and he looked at you concerned.

"What the hell are you still doing here? He could've killed you", he said. You weren't sure it was the Winter Soldier, but you could tell when Bucky was a little softer to you.

"So? You could've killed me too", you replied. He looked confused. You helped each other out of the building, sneaking through the vent he found. You were both miserable, and it took you ages to finally find an exit, but it happened.

You didn't want to think about it now, you didn't know exactly what to expect from him if he's not Bucky yet. You didn't know if it was safe to stay with him, but he wasn't trying to kill you, and he pulled you out of the living hell inside that company.

Pierce was still alive, though. And you thought maybe it would be a good chance to actually ask Steve to deal with him instead. You remembered of a place you were told about a few months back, one place out of the city no one would find, besides you and your coworkers.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You found a gas station where you and Bucky cleaned up yourselves and took a bus to the place. You didn't have clothes with you, you probably didn't even have your phone, but it was probably for the best anyway.

As soon as you got there, the man responsible for the small houses recognized you as one of his private investigator friends and let you in. It was like a motel facility, but it was secure. You paid the man a few extra bucks and asked him to go get some clothes and shop at the drugstore, which he did with no complaint.

The facility worked as a refuge, and it was hard for any other person to find it unless you have the location. You and James walked over a mile until you find it. You were bruised, and had to stitch yourself up.

Barnes still hadn't said a word since you took the bus, and it wasn't like he was going to say anything. You didn't care to leave the bedroom as it could be a good chance for him to escape, so you stayed as close as you could.

And then again you were there to patch him up, give him painkillers and treat him like a loyal patient for the hundredth time. He still didn't interact even then. While you were removing the remaining of the bullet, he sat still in the bathroom toilet, eyes looking at nowhere specifically.

It hit you again to see the amount of scars in his body, the small bruises with dry blood. The way his body language works every time you touch him to take care of him explains a little why he never actually killed you.

"You should not be near me", Bucky said, still looking straight. You didn't care about what he actually thought. You didn't care he was a threat.

When you didn't respond to what he said, he grabbed your wrist with his metal hand and squeezed it a bit. You stared at him, surprised by his sudden movement. He still had that frown, he carried a little of gray in his blue eyes.

"Don't get closer", he whispered. You knew why he was doing that. You knew he was trying to protect you from himself. But like a magnet, you gripped his chin, forcing him to look at your eyes.

"Bucky. I know you're there", you breathed. He didn't change his expression, but you could see his eyes flickered for a slight second. "Please, I want to do it".

He didn't say anything else, letting your wrist loose so you could finish patching him up. The way he looked vulnerable made your legs waver and your heart started beating faster.

You couldn't help but look how built up he was, how well worked out he looked, his abs perfectly shaped, his arms with big biceps. He felt your gaze upon him and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving you in your trance.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

After taking your shower and getting something to eat, you were ready to get in bed. You were sharing a king-sized bed, and there weren't any other single ones in the building. Barnes was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling like he was frozen.

You crawled until you reached his flesh arm, he felt an electricity there. He looked at your hand on his skin and then looked at you. He had the same confusing ones after he woke up from the trigger.

You settled closer to him, leaving traces of your fingers in his arms until you reached his scruffy beard. He was still looking at you, sort of amazed. His blood was burning inside him, and he wasn't sure it was a good idea to stay so close to you.

Deep in his mind, it felt the right thing to do. He cupped your cheek with the metal hand and bashed his lips into yours. It felt desperate, it felt warm, it felt messy, needy. When he felt your tongue caressing his, Bucky shivered under your gentle touch.

He groaned on your mouth, and it sent a shockwave through your whole body. You fixed the hair that was falling on his face and he sighed. Bucky didn't know he actually needed to kiss you this much until he felt it.

He doesn't remember being his old self, he doesn't remember he actually had a bit of your taste the other day. He knows, though, that the reason he wouldn't kill you, that the reason he never actually went after you to kill you, was because you were always there.

You were always the one who would clean him up, who would take care of his wounds, of his injuries, of his mess. You never actually complained about it, and you would always show how much you cared eventually.

Barnes gripped your waist with his metal arm in order to pull you closer, like you'd merge into him. He was desperate to feel your touch a little more than that, but at the same time he didn't want to feel like he was depending on it to feel sane.

When he broke the kiss, the soldier rested his forehead into yours, holding your hand with his. He opened his eyes to look at you, realizing something was different. It took him a moment, but he finally figured out what it was.

"Hey, it's me again", Bucky said. You felt your heart warm up and this time, you had no intention of stopping that kiss.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfic #userashe #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[kasagia]

My (and your) tears ricochet

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader Summary: You and Klaus have a difficult relationship. For 500 years, you bond, break up, and get back together, being both your worst nightmares and your longed-for dreams. But after Lucien bites you and you die in Klaus' arms, the true feelings of your "lover" come out. And you're as delighted as devastated. Warning(s): angst, de@th, mourn, mentions of depression/mental breakdown, vampire violence, a bit of comfort at the end Word count: 5k+ Inspired by: "My tears ricochet" - Taylor Swift

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room

I never thought this would be my end. Killed by one of Klaus' many enemies because I rushed to save the love of my life. An Y/N from 200 years ago would have laughed in my face for my own stupidity.

To die for Klaus Mikaelson - the enemy of my family, the bane of my existence, and the only one I ever truly desired.

It would have been as improbable to my past self as the entire Mikaelson family mourning me with my sister Katherine by their side.

Yet I was here. In the spirit world, watching the original vampires and Kath line up in front of my coffin, they silently watched the sunlight illuminate my gray, lifeless face.

Maybe Klaus was supposed to be my undoing after all.

At least Katerina put me in a nice dress.

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me?

Involuntarily, I began to reminisce about the events leading up to my unexpected death, as I was looking at Klaus' stone, emotionless face.

"What? I betrayed you?! I should've seen that coming. After everything I do and sacrifice for you, you still can't trust me, can you? I'll never be your precious Camille."

"Don't bring her to this! I'll ask you just once more and for your own good, love, tell me the truth. Did you tell Aurora about her?!"

"No Klaus. I didn't tell your psychopathic ex that you were fucking your therapist. You have to find someone else to blame for her death."

"I didn't fuck with her."

"And I don't care."

I turned away from him to leave his studio, but the man grabbed my arm in a strong, aching grip, effectively stopping me. I turned to meet his furious gaze again.

"We're not finished."

"YES, WE ARE! I'm so done with being a toy you can throw out and take back whenever you want! I deserve something more than a hybrid who has an existential problem with himself and thousands of enemies on his back. I'm done with you and whatever is between us. You're not worthy of my time, and I'm so dumb to believe that you can feel something more than anger or a desire for power. Mikael was right about you. You're just a scared boy who is pushing everyone away from you because you're too afraid of being betrayed."

I burst out, fed up with his sick attitude. From the moment I arrived at his call, he treated me with fucking hostility and distance. After everything we've been through together, I didn't deserve to be treated like a traitor. 

At least that's what I told myself to keep from falling apart, seeing the complete lack of love for me in his captivating eyes, which I loved as much as the day we first met.

"Calm down. I've killed people for lesser slander. You're lucky you're still breathing, love." he whispered, placing his hand on my neck and squeezing it lightly to remind me that he could end my life at any moment. Good thing I was never afraid of him.

"And you're lucky to still have someone by your side after hurting your whole family again and again. This killing of everyone out of fear that someone would dare lay hand on you is pathetic. And as you can see, it doesn't quite work well." I snarled, yanking my arm out of his grip and walking away from the even angrier man than before.

After all, the one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest. This was always our guiding principle whenever we argued and broke up for a couple of decades.

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day

"Are you leaving so soon, sister? You just came." Katherine asked as I ran down the stairs towards the exit of the mansion.

"Well, apparently my presence is not needed here. In the house of the great Klaus Mikaelson, there is no place for vile traitors and untrustworthy whores."

"You can not fool me! I know what you really think and feel. And I sympathize with you with all my heart. You're making the right choice, little sister. He is not worthy of your love."

"I didn't ask for your opinion." I growled, unable to bear what she was saying and knowing that it was true.

"You still love him... after everything he has done, after he pretended to be with this bartander and broke your heart..."

"Once again. I didn't ask about your opinion, Katerina." I interrupted her to hurry out of the house. If I had known then that this would be one of our last conversations…

And you're the hero flying around, saving face

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Lucien is running around trying to get to my loved ones at all costs, and you're taking bloody walks around New Orleans?!" Klaus was yelling at me after he pushed me against the wall of one of the alleys.

"You just answered yourself. Lucien is after your loved ones, and I am not one of them."

"Stupid woman, can't you see how much you mean to me?!"

"You've shown me this for the last fucking weeks by flirting with Aurora and playing Camille's damn boyfriend!"

"I did it to protect you!"

"Not telling me anything, keeping me like a prisoner in your house, and treating me worse than an enemy - this is what you call a fucking protection?!"

"How else was I supposed to keep you from participating in a war that wasn't yours and keep you safe at the same time?!"

"It would be too easy to let me know your plans, wouldn't it?"

"Can't you understand that I can't let anything happen to you?! That losing you too will be the final nail in my coffin!"

Suddenly, a strange, disturbing feeling came over me.

"Klaus."

"No. Let me finally end this and tell what's should be told 500 houndreds bloody years ago." Completely unable to focus on Klaus' words, I glanced over to see what was going on behind him. Lucien pointed the pistol at him with a smirk. Whatever was loaded into the gun, it couldn't end well. "Y/N, I love…"

The shot drowned out what he wanted to say. In an instant, I switched places with him, taking a shot at myself. I gasped as I felt my cool blood begin to ooze from the newly formed wound. My gaze, however, stayed hard on Klaus' terrified eyes.

Lucien's venom.

"Y/N!" his scream managed to cut through my dazed body before I collapsed limply on top of him, sinking into the enticing, blissful darkness.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

"I don't see a bit of sense in what we're doing." Klaus whined as we walked along the lakeshore. Every now and then I would stop to pick up a nicer pebble and put it in one of our pouches.

"Don't be grumpy, old man. Had you never done this when you were a child?"

"We had other activities. Hunting, learning to fight, mother being one of the more ambitious decided to teach us to read and write - looking at Elijah, one of her worst ideas. We had all kinds of holidays, but we never did something as stupid as collecting useless stones."

"My God, you're worse than Katerina. Shouldn't you, as an artist, see beauty even in something as simple as stone? Besides, what if we happen to come across a diamond thrown away by some rich aristocrat's angry mistress? I'm about to waste my chance at finding a ridiculously expensive gem just because you're particularly cranky today." I asked indignantly, pulling him closer to me and smirking as I waited for his response.

"Your overactive imagination worries me sometimes. Also, I'm capable of giving you your own diamond if you want." he replied, unconvinced, staring at me with feigned concern. Sparks of amusement shone in his mesmerizingly beautiful eyes.

"As far as I remember, my imagination didn't bother you last night. You actually complimented it a lot."

"I won't answer that, just because, apparently, I'm the only one in our humble company who cares about a little tact."

"Well… you weren't last night." I kissed him briefly and run away from him laughing.

"Come here, you little tempting, irritating thing!" he shouted, chasing after me with his own smirk.

He grabbed me, pulling my back to his chest. I started laughing even more as he started placing small kisses down my neck.

"I can give you every little diamond ring you want. Just say a word." he whispered in my ear, nuzzling my jaw with his nose.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene

Consciousness slowly began to return to my body. I felt like I was in a sea of ​​verbena. Every little muscle burned with hellish pain.

I must have been in hell.

"Not yet, love. I won't let you get away from me that easily. You must fight." his voice instantly brought me back.

I struggled to open my eyes, hissing at the blinding sunlight. The man sitting by my bed rushed to the windows, covering them, before immediately returning to sit by my side. I felt a sudden pressure on my skull. I angrily pushed his hand away, severing the connection between us.

"Get out of my mind." I wheezed, wincing as I heard my hoarse voice. The hybrid, undaunted by my condition, moved closer to me and handed me a glass of blood from the bedside table.

"Make me, love. I dare you." he whispered as he watched me greedily drink the red liquid.

He helped me hold the glass in my hand, embracing it and stroking it tenderly with his thumb. Had it not been for the knowledge that I would die in a few hours, I might have found the whole scene romantic.

"You know that even if you throw me a thousand challenges, you won't keep me for long. I'm gonna die, Klaus. Like Finn and Cami."

"NO. I will not let you. I'll go to Lucien and snatch this damned cure from his throat."

"Klaus, I'm already dead. There is no need…" he cut me off, tangling his hand in my hair to pull me into a desperate, demanding, needy kiss.

I let the warmth of his lips touch me one last time, letting a soft moan escape my throat as the emotions I felt became too much for me to hide any longer. He grabbed my waist, pulling me to him so that I was sitting on his lap. We broke apart. I leaned my head against his forehead, staring into his tear-filled eyes.

"You can't leave me. Not like that."

"I guess I don't have much choice." I whispered in a trembling voice, stroking his cheek tenderly, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Klaus? Earlier in this alley, before all this happened, You said you love me. I…" he didn't let me finish by pressing his lips against mine again.

"You can say you love me tomorrow. You won't die today, love." he kissed my forehead and left in such a hurry that I couldn't even try to talk him out of the stupid idea of chasing Lucien.

I could only hope he wouldn't do something stupid and share my fate.

You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

The funeral was not extraordinary or grand. By Mikaelson's standards, it was quite modest and therefore more personal. It was good to know they'd miss my presence, but I couldn't focus on anyone but Klaus.

He was strangely calm. Emotionless, expressionless. Like a dead sculpture. My concern for the vampire only increased when I saw the necklace (which I gave him for his 1,000th birthday) with the pendant of a wolf howling at the moon hanging proudly from his neck, gleaming in the sunlight. His blue eyes stared blankly at my coffin, which they were hiding in the crypt.

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Katerina and Rebekah crying.

However, the one person I cared about and worried about ever since I left the world of the living spent the entire funeral in astonishing silence.

It was at that moment that I knew he wouldn't accept my departure so easily.

I smiled as I saw Elijah come over to comfort him afterward. My smile faded as the hybrid growled aggressively at him, shoved his brother away, and ran to a place only known to him.

It must have been harder for him than he dared show anyone.

"Please, let one of his siblings be able to get to him. Despite his best efforts to keep them at a distance."

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

If I thought the funeral was hard for Klaus, then the wake must be his true hell.

Most of the originals have recovered by now, sitting in their living room sipping drinks, recalling all the funny, sad, and crazy things that had to do with me.

I thought it would somehow ease his pain.

Katerina seemed a little cheerier as she talked about all the compromising situations that WERE SUPPOSED to go with me to the grave. But I couldn't really blame her. I would probably do the same in the reverse situation.

It was Kol who unwittingly unleashed the storm.

"Remember when Nik tried to propose to her in the 19th century, here in New Orleans?" my heart and the whole world around me stopped for a moment. Propose?

"What?! How?" my sister's surprised exclamation perfectly reflected my current state. I had no idea that idea could ever enter his head.

"He has had hundreds of attempts over the centuries, but at this time most of us thought he'd finally made it." a single tear escaped my eye as I lamented the future that would never happen. "I even spent all of my money from the safe in Chicago because Nik had planned to…"

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, silencing the original. Everyone's attention shifted to Klaus, who had shards of glass stuck in his hands. A trickle of blood began to form from his hand, staining the chair and the carpet beneath it.

"I have enough of this pathetic show." he snarled, brushing off the shards of glass as he walked away to his art studio. Rebekah and Elijah didn't give up so easily, catching up with him on the stairs.

"Is that how your life will look now? You'll growl at us every time we mention Y/…" 

"DON'T EVEN DARE SAY HER NAME!" he burst out, running to his studio. Elijah gave his sister a knowing look and returned to the living room, letting her do her thing.

Rebekah and I followed the hybrid, finding him in the middle of the ruined room, weeping over one of my portraits that had miraculously survived the crash. The blonde kneeled, hugging her brother and combing his hair comfortingly.

"Oh, Nik. That pain will never go away if you don't accept…"

"I WILL NEVER ACCEPT THIS!" he wrenched himself free from her grip, wary of the painting. "And this damn witch knew it! She enchanted me the first time I saw her. She put a dark spell on me, so I never found any other woman even a little bit as attractive as her. She is my heart, my half soul, my happiness, my sadness, and my madness, and now… now she is gone. And will be my curse for the rest of my life, Rebekah. Nothing can change that, especially not passing time, because every second, every minute, every hour, and every day without her by my side is meaningless."

"But you two were apart before, and you never acted like that, Nik."

"It was easier to let her go knowing she was happy and safe rather than cold and dead in some bloody tomb."

"And what about Hope? Your daughter, remember? You must be strong for her."

"Maybe it would have been better if she had never known the wasted shell I became after SHE left."

The blast of air (and all that mess) was all he left behind. Rebekah hesitantly reached for my portrait, staring at it with tears in her eyes.

However, it may not be so easy to let me go for all of them.

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home

"You just beat yourself up more. By the way, he himself too." Cami's voice came from behind me. I turned to face her, leaving the hybrid alone with my crypt for a moment.

"I thought it was healthy to grieve a little over someone's death."

"Yes, but what you two are doing is obsessive and bordering on pre-depressive. You must let him go. And he you. Holding on to him will get you nowhere. If you don't want peace yet, you might as well travel to other places. You can go anywhere you want."

"Anywhere I want, just not home." I muttered bitterly, looking at the hybrid sitting across from my grave and sipping a bottle of bourbon.

"I don't think I can do anything here. Just remember you have a choice, okay?"

"You're going to find peace?"

"Yes, and don't make me wait there alone for long. Watching them won't help you. I'm so sorry, Y/N." she gave me one last comforting, sad smile and turned to leave.

"Good luck, Camille!" I called after her and turned on my way, approaching Klaus again.

"For you too. I hope you'll find your peace." I heard before the blonde was gone for good.

"I already did." I murmured, grabbing Klaus' hand, enjoying the slim chance of being close to him. At the very least, I could fool myself into thinking I was still with him. 

Because the truth was that I would never find my peace without him.

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

Klaus had slept for a week and stayed only in my bedroom, occasionally popping up to visit my grave. With a heavy heart, I laid down next to him on my bed, watching him sleep peacefully, hugging my pillow, and inhaling my scent left on it.

Involuntarily, I remembered my last hours in this bed.

"I will kill anyone you thought was your friend. I will tear out their throats and hearts one by one and torture them until they feel half as much pain as I will feel. I'll make this whole bloody world go up in flames, and it'll never rise from its fall, and neither will I if you leave me."

"Were you always so dramatic, or did it just happen in your old age?" I taunted, taking a sip of water to cover up my earlier sudden coughing fit from him. But I doubt I'll be able to explain the blood on the mirror if he looks in the bathroom when he returns.

"I'm not joking, love. If you die before I find a cure, I'll follow you straight to hell and drag you back with me. No one and nothing can take you from me."

"I'd find it romantic if you didn't presume that I'm the spawn of the devil. What if I'm an angel in disguise?"

"Then they did a fantastic job of camouflaging you. I have to go now, love. You have one task: Don't die. Can you do it?"

"I'll try. Nik, I lo..." he hung up before I could finish. "I love you, Nik." I whispered to myself, trying my hardest to control the sudden dizziness.

Klaus, whatever you're doing, please do it faster.

And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

"I think you should go in the red one. This color has always suited you." I mumbled as I stood next to my sister and watched her look at herself in the mirror.

At one point, she sighed resignedly, falling onto the bed where Rebekah was sitting. The blonde pulled away from the phone, glancing at the doppelgänger.

"What's wrong with you this time? We went through all our wardrobes, and you didn't pick anything? You always look stunning, just go for something."

"Usually, it was Y/N who helped me choose a dress for a date."

The deafening silence that filled the room probably hurt me more than it hurt them. How I would love to be there with them.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to. How could you know? I just… really miss her."

"Yeah. Me too. All of us do."

"I'd probably borrow something from her if she was still here and if Klaus wasn't guarding her room like a vault."

"Speaking of him, I should probably check on him. If you can hear me in any way, take the little red one. Elijah will be delighted." I said getting out of bed and heading to my bedroom. I've probably spent more time in it as a ghost than a vampire.

I entered the room, neatly dodging the piles of books and clothes that Klaus had scattered around, looking for things that still smelled of me. I dreaded thinking what he would do when they were gone. Maybe he'll be in the mood to use my perfume instead and go outside? It was the best scenario.

I sighed, recognizing his curled form on the bed. He was wearing my favorite sweatpants and a (too big for me) sweatshirt. I was a little scared that he could easily fit into my clothes. Several bottles of alcohol and bags of blood were placed next to him. At least he was feeding. I sat next to him, running my hand through his hair (pretending to do so).

"I know it's hard for you and that you can't move on; come to terms with what happened. I'd probably be in much worse shape if I couldn't hear you, see your ridiculously handsome face. But you are stronger than me. Much stronger. You have to get out of this. For yourself, for your siblings, for Hope… for me." I began to cry, trying to somehow hug the also weeping hybrid. "I'm so sorry, Nik."

Suddenly, a very angry Hayley burst into the room with a nervous Elijah behind her.

"KLAUS! That's enough! You have to get yourself in order and get out of this hole. It will be best if you go for a walk with YOUR DAUGHTER. Do you still remember her? Hope misses you and has been restless for several weeks. I can't calm her down, so do your fatherly duty and move your ass, or I'll do it for you."

"Go away." he mumbled, not even looking up since they came in.

The brunette snorted, trying to take my blanket from him, which covered him. As soon as her hands were on the material, the hybrid growled, snatching it from her hands and pinning the woman by the neck to the wall.

"Touch her stuff again, and I'll make it the last thing you do in your miserable, meaningless life."

"Niklaus! Let her go!" I screamed along with Elijah. Klaus ignored his brother, only tightening his grip on the barely alive woman.

"Do you think Y/N would want you to kill your baby's mother?"

Luckily, this convinced the hybrid. He released Hayley from his grip and shoved them both out of the room, locking the door behind them. He threw himself heavily on the bed, inhaling my scent to calm himself down. After a while, tears started flowing from his eyes.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

The worst thing about this illness wasn't the debilitating pain. Loneliness was the worst.

Each of the Mikaelsons and Katerina were involved in obtaining the cure. They still had hope. But I resigned myself to my fate the moment Lucien's venom pierced my body with a wooden ball.

That didn't mean I wanted to die alone.

As if on cue, Katerina burst into my room and sat on the bed next to me. I could see her lips move, but I couldn't hear a sound in the world. It wasn't until she poured a glass of cold water over me that my complete consciousness returned to me.

"Are you crazy?!" I shouted. "If you want to get me to my grave faster, there are other ideas." Katerina stopped laughing and suddenly tensed up, glaring reproachfully at me.

"Don't even dare say that. You're not going to die, do you understand? Klaus is getting a cure right now. You will recover. I promise." she said, grabbing my hand and planting a kiss on my forehead, brushing sweaty, wet strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You may be the best liar that ever walked on this earth, but I always knew when you were lying."

"I'm glad I'm not doing it this time. You'll see, you'll be cruising around again in a few hours, avoiding Klaus' argument about obeying his orders."

"At least when I go to hell, I'll meet our father and kick his ass for separating you from Nadia. Maybe Mikael and Dahlia will be on my hit list too." I mumbled, giving in after several hours to the urge to close my eyes. Then I felt that I had been shivering with fever all this time.

"Y/N, open your eyes. You've got to open your eyes for me, just for a little while longer. Please, Y/N."

"We should saddle our horses today and take a ride to the lake. We haven't done that for a long time."

"We'll go to Bulgaria I promise, just open your eyes for me. Molya te, sestrichke otvori ochi."

"Obicham te Katerina." I whispered, feeling the last bloody tears fall from my eyes.

"Y/N! Wake up! Freya!" Katherine screamed in panic, trying to wake me up by shaking my shoulders.

The next few minutes were weightless as I waited to pass into the ghost world. With the remnants of my ebbing life, I felt the commotion around my bed. The bitter liquid was forced down my throat, and someone clenched my jaw to make sure I didn't spit out the horrible liquid. In the background, I could still hear Freya and Davina mumbling, Katerina and Rebekah crying, and Klaus screaming in rage before I was swallowed up in pain-relieving darkness for good.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

It's been a month and a half since my death, and Klaus has made one small, significant progress. He didn't throw his fangs at anyone who so much as uttered my name. After the attack on Hayley, he had controlled his aggression and was not a relative danger to society. Well… at least not more than usual.

I, on the other hand, felt much better than a months ago. My vampire speed somehow reactivated, saving me from chasing the rushing original for half a day. Also, watching my loved ones brought me some relief. Only Klaus was still stuck in place, unable to let me go.

Hayley and Freya joined forces to talk some sense into him and set him on the right path. But even their best efforts could not change the stubborn hybrid's mind.

That's how I got here. At my grave, watching Klaus clean it and add new flowers, throwing out the ones that had faded since his visit yesterday. I got more flowers from him after I died than I've had in 500 goddamn years.

He usually worked in silence, occasionally humming some old song I made him sing ages ago when I was upset. He has always had a wonderful voice.

But today, after a particularly bad fight with Hayley, Elijah, and Freya, he sat on the bench in front of my tombs and did something he hadn't done before. He was talking to me (or rather, to a stone slab with my name on it, but still).

"I know you wouldn't approve of my behavior. I know you would yell at me and get angry. My gods, I never imagined that I would miss it so much. I really wish I could be there for Hope, but I can't. I can't let her see me like this. Even if she's so little now. I know she needs me, but... everyone I love is dying. And I can't let anyone else die again because of me. Especially not my daughter. I want her to live. I want her to grow up. I want her to love, even if it brings you pain and sadness. Be a strong and beautiful woman, as you and her mother. I don't know what to do, Y/N. And I really wish that you were here to tell me, my little vampire."

A fountain of tears spilled from both his and my eyes. For the first time today, I reached for him, pulling him to me in a poor imitation of a hug.

The hybrid jumped up from the bench in fear, staring shocked and suspiciously at the place he had recently occupied. My heart beat faster. Did he? No. It is impossible. Klaus has the same incredulous look as mine. But what if…

"Y/N?" for the first time in these long, cold months, I shed a wave of relief tears. I sat there in shock, staring at the uncertain hybrid with unimaginable happiness. He could feel me. Like I him. "Please, show me it's you, and I'm not delusional."

I rushed over to him, hugging him with all my might. The hybrid almost knocked us to the ground. He probably didn't hear my loud laugh because he would have looked a little more offended than full of disbelief and happiness.

"I'll recognize that smell anywhere. Cruel woman, if you really are just a figment of my imagination and I make a fool of myself by running to my siblings with this, then know that I will meet you soon in hell and will not let your soul depart from me again." I slapped his shoulder for saying such nonsense, and he just laughed, gropingly trying to pull me closer to his chest.

I allowed myself, for the first time in months, to sink into the blissful feel of his warm skin. We needed a moment to ourselves before he shared this discovery with Freya, and their next fight to retrieve me from death's clutches began. For now, I enjoyed Klaus' clinginess.

"Don't even think that I'll deprive you of your touch for a moment. I'm going to hold you until the end of the bloody world." he whispered, moving around me from memory to put his chin on top of my head after he kissed me there softly.

It sounded good. But I knew it wouldn't be enough for us for long.

#Spotify #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus x reader #elijah mikaelson #katerina petrova #katherine pierce #kol mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #klaus oneshot #klaus mikaelson x oc #tvd klaus #tvd #tvd x reader #the originals #mikaelson family #freya mikaelson #angst #death and dying #funeral #comfort #kasagia

[annabethvicit]

i just finished the poppy war trilogy and i don't think i'm ever going to be able to hear my tears ricochet again without thinking of rin and nezha. like... if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too & i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home & you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same??? like i'm sure i'm not the first to say it, but it's them.

if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe all the hell you gave me? 'cause i loved you, i swear i loved you 'til my dying day

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'cause when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave and if i'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed look at how my tears ricochet

and i can go anywhere i want anywhere i want, just not home and you can aim for my heart, go for blood but you would still miss me in your bones and i still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) and when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same cursing my name, wishing I stayed you turned into your worst fears

#the poppy war #yin nezha #rin #rinezha #fang runin

[starsaroundmyscarsblog]

You'll Be Ok

Summary: The Moon Boys comfort you after a hurtful text from your mum.

Also, 'my tears ricochet' is there because I listen to it when I've been hurt by my parents. It's there to listen if you want. Will add some of the lyrics to the oneshot tomorrow morning 😊

⚠️Warnings: Angst. But there is tons of Fluff too. 🥰🩵

Marc/Jake/Steven x reader

Reader is a glass child/emotionally abused

Background Info:

To be honest, I wrote this one for mental healing. The reader is a glass child.

Before you read this, I should explain a few things:

1. I'm a glass child. Remember, child just refers to son/daughter/offspring of. This is as follows

"Glass children are siblings of a person with a disability. The word glass means people tend to see right through them and focus only on the person with the disability. 'Glass' is also used because the children appear strong, but in reality are not. These children have needs that are not being met."

2. In no way am I blaming my sibling for my needs, not being met. It's not her fault, I love her to the moon and back, and literally would do anything for her.

3. Today was also the day I got told by a clinical psychologist (well, technically, I was asking for a "friend") that I was emotionally abused. Said emotional abuse means I have a rocky relationship with my parents - one reason I relate to the moon boys a lot. I am in no way saying my abuse is anywhere near as bad as theirs, just saying I find comfort in them and coming on here and reading stuff about them whe life gets rough.

This oneshot is for all glass /emotionally abused children or children of toxic parents. U ever need to talk, hit me up :).

When you were growing up, all you ever wanted was a break.

Which seemed like a simple enough thing to get, right? Just take a day to yourself, go out with friends or something, maybe have a lie in? But for you, that seemed impossible.

Not when your entire life revolved around your sibling.

And it wasn't like you hated them for it. On the contrary, before you met the moon boys, you'd never loved any one in such a fierce way. It wasn't like you were just their sister. But their protector. Their provider. Came witb being their second parent.

It's not that you particularly minded being their second parent, but sometimes, you wanted to explode because so much, too much responsibility was placed on your shoulders.

It was a strange adjustment living with the Moon Boys, you'd been so used to living with such toxic people, that it felt a little strange to not hear Marc tell you off for not washing the dishes when you had just finished making a meal, or Jake telling you to you didn't have to get up early on Saturday to clean the house, or Steven who telling you to sit and relax after you offered to get his charger, even though you knew you were tired.

With your parents, feelings didn't matter.

It was like they were blind to your feelings. It felt like they appreciated you, all your did for your sibling, but then, as soon as you made a mistake. Nothing you did mattered.

Everything got too much during your senior year. Your grades slipped, work weeks, months overdue. You wanted to leave right then and there. But you couldn’t. Something held you back. Fear of the unknown, you guessed. You ended up breaking down in front of your teachers, and for the time being, your workload decreased a little. You brought your grades back under control. Got better scores on your next set of mock exams. You thought things were finally getting better, changing. That your parents finally understood that you were just a kid.

But you were wearing rose tinted glasses.

You thought your heart was healing from all the pain, but it may as well have been bleeding slowly. The work started to creep up again, and you felt like you were gonna have a another break down, but you couldn't.

Your parents didn't like it when you told over people "family business." So you kept going, kept fighting. You had to hold it together. Were expected to. And besides. This was all for your sibling, who went through pain unimaginable.

Buy you still felt like you were dying everyday.

Even though you never allowed yourself to address it, the real reason you took a gap year wasn't because you needed to "find yourself." It was because you just needed a break. You wanted more time, and with school gone, you could focus on yourself and your US application (you had decided to move as far away from your parents as possible for uni).

Though history had a habit of repeating itself. Your mum seemed to find a way of shoving even more work on your shoulders, like cooking for everyone, on top of looking after your sister and your job. She didn't think you had a right to complain. You did nothing in comparison to your parents, and honestly, it was hard not to believe that.

Desperate to get away, when your US Applications succeeded, you were on the first flight possible. You relished in the new found freedom it brought. No fights, no unnecessary expectations. You were in heaven. Though whenever you went for thw holidays, you were filled with dread at reliving the trauma.

And it wasn't just being worked like a "maid." As a friend told you. That wouldn't bother you too much. It was the constant invalidation as a person. Like you didn't exist.

So you saved up enough money while in college for a flat. Pulling night and day shifts everyday, and your degree. You had too. Towards the end of your final year, you were offered a job at your favourite (company).

You were over the moon on tbe flight home. Things were starting to look up. You had finished your degree, were in your dream carer. Things couldn't be better. Except at home. When you weren’t working, you juggled the task of looking after your sibling, and a set of housework. Until one night in January, it all came to a head. You left in the quiet hours of the morning, with nothing but a text sent to your parents' phones explaining you wouldn't be coming back. Yours blew up with angry, hurt messages, but you ignored them, and the future ones. You stayed with your friend until you found a place to live.

But then came Marc, Steven and Jake, and they changed your life forever.

Like a new morning, they washed away the guilt of the past days, and the sorrows of yesterday. They taught you how to smile again, feel loved, even love yourself.

You all had an instant connection, and in a few months, you had moved in. Now it had been almost a year since you hadn’t met. You couldn’t imagine life going any better. Steven was so thoughtful in a way not even your parents had been, and Marc was gentle, and patient, he never ever shouted at you, or treated you like a kid, and Jake was so tender, just him running your arm made you a blushing mess. You didn’t need them to tell you they’d loved you like you had to head from your parents each night to believe it. You just knew.

You didn't know why you never told them about what happened to you growing up. Marc had eventually opened up to you about his childhood, but you couldn't return the favour. Whenever they asked you about your childhood, and you wanted to open up, somehow the words got lodged in your throat, somehow your brain forgot all the bad things that had happened to you, so you only told them the good. You had informed them that currently you didn't have a relationship with your parents, but for some reason, it scared you to tell them the whole truth.

But of course, there were days your parents really got to you. Like today, your mum who had never stopped texting you, had sent a message a few days ago. She did it every few weeks. Asking how you were, if you were ever gonna come home again. For some stupid reason, you thought she might have changed. They might have changed.

What lies our hearts tell ourselves.

Everything had started fine, but then the blaming had started, then your mum had said that you leaving was unfair and wrong to your family, especially your sibling. That they never deserved that.

And that ate you up inside. You bad promptly informed your mum you were never speaking to her or your dad again, but you couldn't stop thinking about it ever since. It invaded your thoughts, every waking minute. Had you been selfish, leaving your sister like that?

The Moon Boys had all noticed your mood shift, though you brushed it off to feeling tired, of course though, they didn't buy it.

But you couldn't tell them. You couldn't. So when Jake stepped out to the local tesco to by some yoghurt and other things you needed, you lay in bed, headphones on loud, trying to let it all out, so you could forget. Stuff your pain and memories down a mason jar and throw it in an old cupboard in an abandoned building, forever.

The headphones Marc had gotten you must have been really loud, because you didn't hea Jake come in, or call for you in the flat.

'Where is she?' He wondered,

Steven was already going into panic mode

'Relax Steven.' Marc replied 'Maybe she's gone out to Tesco.-

'But she always leaves a note on the fridge.'

'And there's nothing here.' Jake replied before something caught the corner of his eye. Your figure curled up on the bed, sunlight streaming across your face, his face lighting up subconsciously. It was only a moment before he noticed you were crying, and he instantly went over to you, throwing his jacket on one of the chairs. You felt a weight on the bed, and then an arm wrapping around your waist, hugging you close, before a hand pulled the headphones off your ears.

"Cariño," he said gently before you turned around into his chest, hiding your face in his chest as you slowly stopped crying, only aware of how loud your music had been, when you heard it through your headphones on the bed. Jake rubbed your back soothingly until you were just sniffing.

And then, the guilt set in. Guilt was the one thing that hd characterised your time with your parents. It was relentless.

'Marc, Steven, and Jake shouldn't see me like this.' You thought 'I'm being overdramatic.'

Jake rubbed your cheek, soothingly.

"What's wrong amore?" He whispered "Did someone do something to you?"

Whoever it was, he was going to kill them.

You shook your head and sniffed "its not important."

Unable to not bear not being able to comfort you any longer, and worried, Steven fronted. He wrapped both arms around you tighter.

"Love, whatever you're going through, we can help, alright?"

"I don't wanna be a bother."

Steve cupped your face with his hands, "Love, you could never bother us."

You sighed, sitting up, crossing your legs, playing with the duvet.

"It's just my...my parents."

For some reason, Steven felt his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't know why he was this nervous, it was you confessing something, not him. Then he remembered.

Marc.

That word always triggered him. Steven pushed some hair/braids back from your face

"Go on."

"I just." You took a deep breath the tears threatening to spill out again, your voice braking. "They can be so mean sometimes." You whispered, swallowing a huge lump in your throat.

Steven pulled you closer. From what he had gathered, you didn't have the best relationship with your parents, but it sounded better than this. How could they have not known it had been this bad?.

It suddenly dawned on him why you had been acting so distant this week.

"Oh love." Steven whispered, pulling you in again close "Is that why you were upset?"

"Yeah." You mumbled before lifting up your phone, so he could read the messages between you and your mum.

"Here."

'Putos gilipollas' Jake swore, threatening to do some serious damage to private property.

Marc was quiet. Steven worried.

"I didn't even do anything, Steven. I just wanted to... She's my mum. I missed her."

"I know darling." He whispered, kissing your tear stained cheek. "I know."

"Has it always been this bad?" Steven asked after a while, and you nodded back slowly.

For a moment, you felt him tense up, and then the arms wrapped around you dropped. Marc's brown eyes loomed back at you, one look, and it felt like he knew everything.

"Are you mad at me?" You barely whispered

"No baby, I'm not mad at you." He stroked your arm gently."Just wanna know why you didn't tell us?"

You sighed.

"Marc, you and the boys have gone through things unimaginable. It's not just you. People go through worse. I just thought my problems didn't matter much, you know. I was just going through the motions."

Marc took yout oulders in his hands, gripping as tight as he could without hurting you.

"Baby," he sighed "Y/N. Don't everyone think that. Your problems matter, to me, to all of us. We just want you to be happy. We love you."

You smiled, fiddling with the mattress, your cheeks rising with heat.

"Love you too."

Marc pulled you into him, chin on top of your head.

"I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?" You smirked, fiddling with the duvet, then sighed. "My sibling had special needs. I grew up taking care of them, honestly like their 2nd mum, to be honest. I did everything a mum did for them. Cooking for them, feeding them, dressing them, changing them, the works, and more. It was rough sometimes, but it would've been ok if my parents didn't think that I "should be doing this." I don't know if that makes sense."

You sighed taking a deep breath.

"Basically, I wouldn't have minded being a young carer cause other kids are, but it's being this kid's other mum when my mum or dad was right there that got me down. They put all that responsibility on me. I was just a fuckin kid, Marc." You picked up one of his hands, drawing shapes on it "What made it worse is I never truly felt appreciated. It felt like I did everything for that kid, but with my parents, it felt like they didn't care. I got yelled at for insignificant things, like putting a short sleeve shirt on my sibling instead of a long sleeved one, accused of not loving my sibling enough when I made these minor mistakes. I wasnn't allowed to feel tired, got called lazy on a regular basis when all I wanted to do was rest, got told I did 'nothing' around the house, was expected to do things all the time without a fuckin complaint. Was expected to be her mum. My friends kept telling me I was abused and stuff, but I never viewed it as that. It was just what having parents was like, right? I still don't, you know. I just think they're toxic."

You looked up at him briefly, checking if he was still watching, trying to read the expression on his face. Anxiety grew in your heart, worried he would think you were being overdramatic. I mean, everyone looked after their siblings, right?

What if you were taking things too seriously?

"So," you popped your tongue "One day I couldn't take it anymore. I just left. University gave me a relief the time I was there, but when I came home after, it was like I was a kid all over again, just wanting to be free as cliché as that sounds."

Marc was a little shocked, to say the least. He'd never imagined your upbringing like that. He had an idea that things were a little rocky with your parents but not that rough. And whenever you told him about your childhood, you were so happy. No wonder you had seemed so emotionally withdrawn, with parents like that, he wasn't surprised.

Inwardly he kicked himself. Although all the things you told him about your childhood were happy, always made you smile, he should've known by now people with the deepest pain shine the brightest smiles.

Marc pulled you into him, so you were sitting with your back pressed to his chin. He wrapped an arm around your waist

"Sometimes it just feels like it's all my fault." You voice cracked, and you picked up the water on the beside tablr, drinking it. Marc rubbed your eyes in a circular motion"The way things are with my parents. I should've been stronger. Helped them and my sister more."

'"It's not your fault, Y/N. You were just a kid. You did all you could for your sister. Abuse," Marc took a deep breath, and you knew this was hard for him to talk about. Your heart swelled at the sacrifice he was making right now. Casting away his own trauma to talk to your own "Abuse is a form of toxic behaviour, baby. Toxic relationships can be abusive, but all abusive relationships are toxic. Steven told me the definition of abuse, according to the Cambridge dictionary, is to treat someone cruelly or violently. That's it. No surprises. How do we differentiate between a toxic relationship and an abusive one? I still don't know. The line is blurred, but what I do know is you don't have to be treated in what typically falls into the category of abuse for you to be a victim of it. Abuse stems from manipulation of power over you, Y/N, and your parents did that. They're still trying to do that. For lack of a better example, and because you made me watch it four times this week, look at Cinderella-"

"There were four different movies!" You replied, but you knew he was only joking. "Cinderella, 1, 2, and 3 are completely different storylines, and then there's the live action which is customary. Besides, I wanted you to see what I used to watch when I was little."

"It's still the same princess. But anyway, look at her. She wasn't beaten or screamed at. But would you still say everything she went through was just toxic? Y/N, baby, you're not your parents' servant."

Hearing him say that, heaing Marc of all people, that that, the most validating moment you had ever experienced. Marc knew, better than most, what it meant to be treated less than. So if, maybe he was saying this, then you really weren't crazy.

"I used to think I was crazy. Still so. Overdramatic, you know. Everyone goes through rough times. Everyone goes through difficulties with their parents. I can't expect them to be perfect, right?"

"Y/N, it's not as simple as that. People aren't perfect, neither are parents. They go through things, but those people, you can adjust your expectations for. They may not be there for you emotionally, but your relationship with them is healthy. Your relationship with your parents isn't healthy."

It was strnage. A part of you had always needed this validation, needed someone else, wanted someone else to tell you you weren't crazy - but when Marc was reassuring you you weren't being silly, for some reason the words cut you deep. Too deep.

Marc kissed the top of your head gently. You felt weak, so you just held on to him.

"I don't even know what to do now."

Marc kissed your head again

"You' ll figure it out."

"It took me so long to even work out the courage to leave that place. Even after I couldn't block her or my dad's numbers. How could I? They're my parents. I don't know. I guess I was just afraid of being alone. I know, I have you guys. But I kept thinking that what if you leave, or get bored of me. Then I'd have no one, and I couldn't stand that." You wipe your eyes again, drinking more water

"Y/N why would you think we'd leave you?"

"I don't know," you sniffed "but I just kept thinking you'd find someone better. You deserve someone better."

Marc turned your head, placing his forehead against yours, staring into those big, enchanting (e/c) eyes. The same ones he fell in love with when you first met. He ran his thumb over your cheek. Even though you'd been with the boys for months, every time they touched you you still felt shivers.

"Y/N, why would we need anyone else when everything we need is right here? When you're here, honey." He pressed a small kiss on your nose."No one has ever made us feel as happy or even loved like you have. Y/N. It's probably our fault you're feeling like this. We haven't-

"No, Marc. Being with you and the other boys is a dream. One I never hoped for. Don't think you did anything wrong, babe. You're all perfect." You ran a hand through his hair.

"But we don't want you to think like you need to earn our love. You can't win love Y/N. So, it never dies. Our love for you will never die."

You smiled before realising something.

"That line's from the Lion King II." You giggled."So you do like it."

You then stuck your tongue out at him, remembering how he said the sequel could never be anywhere near as good as first

He rolled his eyes.

"It's a good line."

"Yeah, totally Marc. Just a good line."

As your laughter died down, you picked up your phone. You sighed, hand pressing on the delete contact button, before your phone sent an automatic notification, asking if you were sure.

You looked at Marc, who looked back at you.

"It's up to you." He nodded, and you swear you loved him even more in the moment. Whereas your parents had all been about control, he was giving you the option to decide your future.

"Block, delete, ghost. It's all in your hands. I won't even blame you if you still talk to them only on occasion, they're your parents. Just don't let them walk all over you."

You paused. Sure, you could keep trying. You loved them and all, but was trying really worth it if you were the only one? Maybe it was time for them to try, too. And hopefully, one day, they would realise, that they hurt you. Really bad.

You clicked the 'delete' button on the notif, and then it deleted. Oddly enough, you felt a weight lift off your chest. Like they finally didn't have any power over you anymore.

Marc pulled you against his chest again, arms wrapping around your waist. Kissing your head again, rocking you side to side.

"You'll be OK. We will. Our love will find a way."

You smirked.

"Marc, babe, I appreciate them, but those Lion King 2 references are killing me."

Marc just rolled his eyes and held on tighter.

But yes, it was true, with Marc, Steven and Jake, your love would find a way.

#Spotify #jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon boys #moon knight fic #moon knight system #steven grant fanfiction

[tavyliasin]

“Pain doesn’t scare me, Abdirak. It is my constant companion, it seeps into every bone, every muscle, it rears its head and bites at me when I least expect, it twists my nerves to the point I should rightfully scream…but even agony can’t sustain a scream that lasts a lifetime.” You found yourself becoming more poetic, an easy cover for the deep aches that even now threatened to steal your senses. It was easier to rely on a lifetime of masking, turning whatever harmed you into something creative, something beautiful, always a vain attempt to deny the reality around you. “Besides, I can barely walk across the room, let alone think of running.” “Dearest One, I can feel it from here, now. Your eyes speak it clearer than your precious voice…” His eyes did not leave yours, softening with understanding as he read the truth from you like an open book. “Agony is a cloak that you wear, an armour you cannot remove, it is as bound to you as the guilt you feel for its very presence. I envy you…but you did not choose this path. Your guilt does not serve you.” He took the empty glass from your hand, the brief touch of his fingers reminding you of the feelings you had when you first saw him on a screen. He was…warmer than you expected. “You’re welcome to my nerves, I’ve had quite enough for one lifetime.” You smiled, almost falling back on the fake laugh you forced whenever you told someone you felt fine on a day your bones felt like they were trying to tear free from your flesh. The empty glass was now back on the table, and he was in front of you once more. Closer, this time. His hand reached towards you, fingers curling as he stroked your cheek softly with the back of his hand. “You need not of my penance, no, you need a different hand to alleviate the weight in your soul. I can show you what else your body can feel, if that is what you wish.” You stayed silent, he was so close now you could smell the slight scent of coppery blood and hot leather, mixed with a warmer note…a perfume?... Unexpected, but it was something akin to a spiced rum. Rich, heated, and a little dangerous.  “You may consider it a gift, for the generosity of your soul screaming out to the beloved Maiden of Pain, you can sing in a different tune so all the gods may hear it.” His hand caressed the line of your chin, cupping your cheek in his palm. You leaned your face towards the warmth instinctively as he brought his lips to your opposite ear with a low whisper. “Would you like that, Dearest One? To let the heavens and hells echo with the voice I can draw from within you?” The heat rose through you like a furnace, the sound waves ricocheting through your mind and body with the promise in his words. But there was one word more important first. “Reality.” You said as calmly as you could manage, his lips pressing a kiss to the edge of your ear with a surprising softness. “That is my safe word, when I want to return to Reality I will say just that, or I’ll hum this tune.” A simple melody from an old song you loved rumbled through your throat, perhaps a little off key, but the notes and pattern would be instantly distinguished from any passionate noises. “Of course, your word is my command. It shall be as if Loviatar herself whispered it to me. But I need to hear it from you clearly,” he kissed your cheek before guiding you to face his cool grey eyes. “Do you want what I wish to offer you? The love of the Maiden, along with my own?”

A little preview of a side fic I'm writing. I have about 4 WIPs on the go right now but I'm chasing the inspiration where it arises~ This one is Abdirak x Reader, and will be a dedication to all those in the community who live with chronic pain like an unpleasant roommate who refuses to move out. Abdirak understands pain, and carries a softness within him for someone who has such an intimate relationship with agony. So, darlings, how would you answer him? I'm going to finish this one when I wake in a few hours, then go back to writing Abdirak x He Who Was, which is currently over 6,000 words and about halfway done~ See you on the other side, loves, may Loviatar show you mercy.

EDIT - FULL FIC LINK HERE

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #abdirak #abdirak x reader #2nd person pov #chronic pain #making pain sexy #Loviatar is not the god we wanted to be blessed by #but at least her priest is incredible #yes I have Abdirak brainrot along with my usual cambion/incubus nonsense #do you want more? #do you want what Abdirak can offer you? #by the way he says “Dearest One” because he has such deep admiration for your relationship with pain #Abdirak is quite sweet actually

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2020 Day 20: Kara

ao3 fic link. series link.

Kara

Every time Lena’s phone lights up, and she sees her best friend’s name on the screen, it makes her heart stutter stupidly in her chest and it makes her smile like a schoolgirl with a crush.

She’d almost added a heart after Kara’s name in her contacts, but she didn’t want to make her feelings too obvious.

Sure, she’s started hinting here and there, flirting a bit more openly with Kara, but she’s not quite ready to confess her feelings just yet.

“Is that your girlfriend?”

Lena rolls her eyes at Sam, but it doesn’t stop her smiling. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yet,” Sam adds and Lena wants to deny it, but it sends too much hope ricocheting around her chest.

---

Kara’s name flashes on her screen, a text message, and when Lena opens it, she finds a photo attached. It’s from sister’s night, Lena can see Alex in the background, but the main focus of the picture is Kara, ice cream cone in hand, stacked three scoops high. She has the biggest smile on her face and ice cream in the corner of her mouth, and she’s so fucking cute that Lena has to close her eyes for a moment, just to calm the racing of her heart and the warmth in her chest.

God, she loves this woman.

Lena sends a photo back, of herself in bed, laptop nestled in her lap, as she finishes off her work for the day. She receives another selfie, this time of Kara frowning and the caption ‘no working at home!’ and Lena has this sudden crystal clear image in her mind, of Kara lying in bed beside her, frowning while Lena works, of Kara complaining that she wants attention instead. And Lena would give it to her, because how could she focus on her work if Kara was right beside her.

Lena needs to get control of herself, and maybe she needs to ask Kara out, these feelings are getting out of hand.

---

They had an argument. It was dumb, she knows Kara is just looking out for her, trying to protect her, but Lena can look after herself, and she doesn’t want Kara to get hurt in the process. But they had an argument about it nonetheless and they said some things and Lena just wants to apologise, but she’s not sure if Kara wants to talk to her right now.

But then there’s Kara’s name on her screen and relief in Lena’s chest as she answers the call.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, cutting straight to it as she answers the phone. 

“No, I’m sorry,” Kara replies and it feels silly, but tears spring to her eyes.

“I know you were just trying to protect me, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“And I should’ve listened, I shouldn’t have just assumed what was best for you without talking to you about it. Can I come over so we can talk now? I’d really like to apologise properly.”

Lena sighs, feels herself relax for the first time since their fight yesterday. “You know my balcony door is always open for you.”

---

Lena feels giddy, when she sees Kara’s name on her phone, even though she just said goodnight to her less than a minute ago.

“Hi,” Lena answers, knows Kara will be able to hear the smile in her voice.

“Hi,” Kara replies, and Lena can definitely hear the smile in hers.

“Did you forget something?” Lena asks. She knows Kara can’t be further than her lobby. It’s been so little time since she left Lena’s front door, Kara may even still be in the elevator.

“I did.”

“Care to elaborate?” Lena asks, too scared to assume what Kara has forgotten. She thinks she knows, she’d regretted not just kissing Kara as they’d both lingered at Lena’s front door, neither quite making a move, even though Lena had made the first move by asking Kara out.

There’s a knock at Lena’s door, and Lena lowers the phone, opens the door to see Kara standing on the other side again.

“I forgot this,” Kara says, stepping into Lena’s space. But she doesn’t kiss Lena, though she’s close to it, but she hovers there, their breath mingling, waiting for Lena to make the final move, to confirm she wants this too.

Lena has never wanted anything more as she closes the last of the gap between them, lips pressing against Kara’s in what turns out to be the best first kiss of Lena’s life.

Lena kicks the door shut and then backs Kara up against it and the Kara doesn’t end up leaving until the next morning.

---

Kara’s name lights up her screen, a little heart after the name, and it makes Lena smile.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2022

[gatefleet]

Damage

Marvel: James 'Bucky' Buchanan Barnes WordCount: 718 T(W); Injury, Guilt, Fighting Request: Yes "Imagine, Y/N gets hurt in the crossfire? (x Bucky Barnes) A/N: This is a re-upload as the first one won't cooperate and has disappeared from its link.

You had always made a good team together, you and Barnes, especially when it came to sparring or team fighting, and this fight wasn’t much different from any other fight the two of you had been in together.  It was you two, ‘outnumbered’ by the opponent.  Why did they always think that the two of you were outnumbered? You were, technically, outnumbered 3:1, but that just felt like a fair fight to the two of you.  The two of you against six bad guys.  Just a normal Tuesday afternoon.

That’s when you heard the shot to your right.  You tensed for a second then you heard the bullet hit Bucky’s arm and relaxed and continued to subdue your opponent, you could check on Barnes later.  You were just finishing off the last guy, you always let them get a couple of shots in, lure them into a false sense of confidence.  Your opponent took one shot to the left of your abdomen with his fist, then sent his knee into the other side.  That’s when the shooting pain, that you presumed was the beginning of a stitch in your side, became unbearable.  Just as your eyes were clouding over with water you saw the shine of Barnes’ arm taking out the guy in front of you.  Just before everything went black, you saw it, the fear in Bucky’s eyes.

You awoke in the Avenger’s tower hospital wing.  The shooting pain still lingering on the right side of your abdomen.  Your stirring caught the attention of the person on your left.  It was a nurse who worked in the tower hospital, they smiled at you and continued to check your monitors and adjust your drip as needed.  You tried to sit up but was quickly scolded by the nurse for trying to move too soon after surgery.  This made you confused and was also what finally made you look down at your abdomen, it was bandaged up and you could see the beginnings of blood starting to soak through.  The nurse noticed it too and left to get fresh bandages to redo your dressings.  As the nurse left you saw Bucky sheepishly hanging at the door to your room with flowers and a get-well card, “Barnes, stop hanging around and get in here.”  You winced in pain as you had shouted for Bucky to be able to hear you. 

He entered the room with his head down.  The first words out of his mouth were an apology, this confused you even more.  “Bucky, why are you apologising?  The guy must have pulled a knife, can’t believe I missed it.”  That’s when Bucky looked at you, with remorse and tears in his eyes, “Y/N, you don’t understand, I looked at the tape from the CCTV in that area, I looked at it from several angles.  When I deflected the bullet, it.. it ricocheted off my arm and into your side…”  You looked at your side as Bucky spoke and didn’t take in anything else after he admitted it was basically his fault you got wounded.  Once your dressing had been changed you glanced at Bucky, he had been sitting staring at the floor, silently willing you to say something, anything.

Once the nurse left the room you looked at Bucky and moved over on the bed slightly, enough to just make space for an extra person and no more.  You then patted the bed next to you and waited, patiently for Bucky to realise and move to join you.  You rested your head on his shoulder, softly, and when he adjusted himself to put his arm behind your head you happily obliged and let him help you lean forward.  You then placed one of your arms over his stomach and hugged him as tightly as your aching body would allow, “it’s alright Barnes, it wasn’t your fault.  You can’t help or predict a ricochet.”  Bucky let out a shaky sigh and hugged you into him.  “I know, but I still feel responsible.”  You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, “I don’t blame you Barnes, I’m not angry…” you began to drift to sleep on Bucky as you were finishing your sentence, and you could have sworn you felt Bucky pressing a kiss to your head as you drifted off.

GIF CREDIT: @lancetuckershairgel

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel x reader #reader insert