#at the last minute decided to include shadow

[sigurism]

Mad Sweeney & Shadow Moon American Gods The Bone Orchard 1.01

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! How does a beast cookies x reader sound? Also the reader has a calming effect on cookies and is basically the groups therapy cookie. Like what if-

Shadow milk after episode 8: DO YOU KNOW WHY IM LIKE THIS?!?

Reader:Wanna talk about it?

SMC: haha..hahahHAHAHA-

*ten minutes later*

SMC leaning on our shoulder: And that was after Mystic started going off the deep end-

Reader calmly listening: mmhm

Interesting 👀👍

I'd like to imagine they're a Legendary who's been around for as long as the Beasts have, travelling the world to give therapy and healing to those who need it. So they're def more powerful than the average cookie

......

As a Legendary Cookie, it was your job to help give all denizens of Earthbread healing--mentally and emotionally, that is.

Your calming abilities enable virtually any cookie to feel relaxed in your company. Even those who are totally closed-off and were baked with the hardiest dough will eventually confide in you about whatever's on their minds.

And you give them advice, always knowing what to say, or simply listen and let them express their emotions.

You've been around for as long as the Five Beasts have, so you've seen a lot in your travels...including the many days and nights they spent terrorizing the world after they twisted their virtues into vices, trying to ease cookies' fears.

The Witches deemed them monsters worthy of being locked up in the Silver Tree...yet you realized they have never once considered why they fell from grace.

Having spent so much time helping the normal everyday folk, you felt some guilt in not checking in on the Beasts to make sure they were okay.

They were adored and revered figures..but even they might've needed somebody to talk to every once in a while.

Maybe they wouldn't have fallen down that dark path if you paid more attention to the signs....

But after they break out of the Silver Tree and face the Ancient Heroes who've "stolen" their soul jam, they hide away until they can figure out how to restore their powers and take their revenge.

That's where you come in, having visited Gingerbrave's kingdom and hearing about the Ancients' encounters with them.

You decided to go on a quest to Beast Yeast, hoping to find them and simply talk, which obviously wouldn't be easy had it not been for your powers.

They have some resistance to it, but one by one...their walls come down and you start to understand them better.

Shadow Milk

Of course, the last one to fall from grace had to be the first one you come across.

It's not long after his retreat from his Spire, still not back at his full strength, wanting to get away from Candy Apple and Black Sapphire Cookie for a while.

They finally saw him be defeated and..humiliated by Pure Vanilla Cookie, yet they're willing to stay and follow his every word?

Either way, he wanted to be alone--but unfortunately for him, that doesn't last long as you seize your opportunity to talk to him.

"Shadow Milk Cookie. The Fount of Knowledge-"

"Pah! Dunno who that other guy is. Only Shadow Milk Cookie is....here..?" He spins around, his eyes comically wide as he instantly recognizes your face. "You....you're-"

"Not dead? I've been around for as long as you, my friend." You chuckle. "I don't crumble easily."

"...it's amazing you haven't. Thought you would'a cracked under the weight of everyone's problems by now. But you're still trying to play the hero, huh?" He sneers. "Just like.....him. Riddle me this, [y/n] cookie...do you feel any guilt?"

"...I do."

"HAH! Well you...wait, you do?" He blinks. "Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes."

"..you're terrible at following this script. You're supposed to be confused and scared-"

"We're not on a stage, Shadow Milk Cookie. I'm not fooled as easily." You cut him off, firmly yet gently. "This is reality. And the reality is...you've been hurt so profoundly. Watching so many cookies embrace deceit instead of your gospels of truth must have been...difficult. You felt betrayed by them."

"........"

"Ever since..that day..I've felt guilty for not reaching out to you or the others sooner. I probably wasn't clear about my doors being open for you, too. I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you again. To help you feel heard, even though this was long, long overdue."

"Wow...and I thought Nilly had the biggest savior complex." He scoffs, trying to resist your magic's advances on his psyche. "Nice try, but you're not gonna get inside MY head, too. Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm not one of your fragile-minded cookie who unloads their entire sob story in one measly conversation!"

"It's not fragile to-"

"Besides..we haven't spoken in eons, so you don't even know HALF of what I've been through!! Not within the Silver Tree! NOT with Pure Vanilla Cookie! Not even before I turned to deceit!!"

Despite his anger, you remain unperturbed. "Exactly my point. So..why don't you help me understand? Let's talk about it."

"....like....right now?"

"Yeah? Unless you have an important date tonight."

"....hahahaha...AHAHAHAHA. Didn't you hear me, stupid cookie?! Obviously not, so allow me to rephrase it.......THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL THAT I'M EVER GOING TO-!!"

Fast forward to sometime later, when Black Sapphire Cookie finally finds his master...leaning on your shoulder while basically trauma dumping. The deceitful Beast was speaking from his mind, unfiltered, to a Legendary Cookie he's never met before.

"-and that was after Mystic Flour Cookie started going off the deep end. But could anyone blame her? No. Those damn cookies got greedy and began asking for the impossible."

"Mhm." You simply nod. "And after seeing her like that...what was going through your mind?"

"...like we were all just...losing it. So I guess hopeless? Scared that we were getting out of hand? I dunno. All I wanted was to be their teacher, to show them the truth....and look at me now!! I warned Pure Vanilla Cookie he'd fall down the same path if he continued the way he was headed...that traitorous prick.."

"He did tell me you rejected his friendship. But..would you consider revisiting that?" You hummed.

"I...no. I mean..I....I-I don't know.." He seems confused with himself. "I told the guy I hated him! What doesn't he get? He could have finished me off! Why does he still try after all I did to him?!"

"Because he sees the good in everyone, even you. I don't fully understand the soul jam connection, but...it seems like he's aware of your true feelings. Your loneliness after all that time spent in the tree. And you keep trying to deny them, afraid to draw back the curtain and express what you really feel."

"But when you've been a ruler of deceit since forever..why would I ever do that?! I don't need anyone! I....I especially don't need you or that stupid goody two shoes soul jam thief! But he....he just...why doesn't he just quit already?!" His voice cracks at the end. "H-He knows I'm a lost cause.."

Even though you can't see his face, the eyes on his hair are weeping, and that prompts you to put your arm around him. "It's easy for you to lie to others, but lying to yourself is way harder."

Despite not saying anything back, he doesn't reject the comfort.

In fact he unknowingly leaned against you more.

Black Sapphire can't believe what he's seeing--almost certain it's an illusion, but no.

This was the master of deceit confiding in someone else. Someone more familiar.

Despite feeling slightly jealous, he decides to leave you two be, distracting Candy Apple Cookie so she doesn't barge in and ruin things.

Burning Spice Cookie

"Ah, Burning Spice Cookie. Herald of Change, time hasn't been kind to-"

"You DARE utter that title?!! It is dead to me..just like you will be in a few moments!!" The Great Destroyer looms over you with his axe at the ready, scowling as you crossed paths with him in the ruins of his Spice Temple.

It was considerably difficult to even speak to him alone, especially with the last remnants of the Wild Spice warriors and Nutmeg Tiger Cookie trying their damnest to fight off your calming abilities...but not even their hardy dough can block it forever.

They let you through to see their master at his lowest point, even though he was still on a high from battling the recently awakened Golden Cheese Cookie.

"That's too bad. I was hoping you'd remember me. I was there when you once held that title with pride" You huff. "You welcomed me into your kingdom with open arms, allowing me to speak to the Wild Spices who had troubles on their minds, and the warriors who came home scarred by the things they've seen."

"....ah...you do seem familiar." He muses. "That's right. You're [Y/n] Cookie. The Legendary warrior of words. I bet you've never lifted a weapon in your life."

"My tongue is the only weapon I need, Burning Spice Cookie." You counter with equal sass.

Least to say...you intrigue him. You didn't cower, and even after all this time and knowing the things he's done, you sought him out anyways.

All just to....convince him to share his feelings?

He had a lot to say, but didn't even know where to begin.

He wondered where you were when kingdoms crumbled around him.

He wondered where you were when he kept watching those he loved die while he continued on living.

He wondered where you were when he decided that the only cure to his pain was destruction.

"Well, it's useless here. You could never understand what I-"

"So help me understand. That's why I do what I do. To better understand all Cookies I meet." You frowned slightly. "You were so convinced that you had to be strong for your people. To act like the passage of time hadn't dimmed your light. I understand why you never visited me. And for that, I apologize. I should've put more effort into-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing you could have said or done to change the way I felt back then." He growled. "What would have been the point?"

"Maybe not, but talking about what and how you're feeling is better than keeping it all inside. You have your generals, sure..but you seldom speak with them. Not wanting to seem weak or soft-doughed in their eyes."

"When they only ever see you as a god, why would...." Suddenly, he's aware of the vulnerability he was showing, and his whole demeanor flips on its head. "GRRRAHH!!" He slams his axe down, nearly splitting the earth between you. "All I feel is pissed off that you're trying to get inside my head! Who told you where I was, mind reader?!!"

"Oh..just a little golden birdie." You calmly reply. "I heard you two had a glorious final battle."

"...ah yes. In spite of my loss, it was...the most entertaining battle I've had in a long time." He grins, recounting that fight.

"Really? Do tell."

Before you know it, he's back to talking again--about the battle, what happened before that, and the rest is history.

Your calming powers have been hard at work, but you've finally gotten him to open up a little more, and somehow he feels...lighter?

It's weird feeling. Weird, but new.

At that time, Nutmeg Tiger returns to her senses and sees you talking to him, furious that she let her guard down and that you were speaking to her lord without permission--

Only for you to calmly stand up and walk away, while she's shouting for you to come back and explain your actions.

"Hexing a Wild Spice is one thing, but turning your back on one will be your LAST mistake-!"

"Enough, General. They will not trouble us anymore."

"...they won't? But my lord, they put a spell on us-!"

"I said enough." He snaps. "I've known [Y/n] Cookie since before you were baked. Has their spell impeded your duties?"

"No, but-"

"Then return to your post."

"....as you wish, Great One." She eventually leaves, and he continues to ponder over your talk with him.

Mystic Flour Cookie

Tracking her down in Beast Yeast was a rather simple task.

All you had to do was look where the white fog has gathered. Luckily, your abilities grant you immunity to the apathy that ordinary cookies would easily be overwhelmed by.

When Mystic Flour laid waste to the world with pale ailment storms, doctors, nurses, and healers dealt with the physical symptoms of patients--while you assisted with the mental.

They may not be crumbling and have flour-white dough anymore, but apathetic thoughts linger in their minds long after treatment. Passions are lost and replaced with nihilism, and your duty was to bring them out of those dark places and remind them of what they loved and how it's all worth it and meaningful in the end.

Luckily, you were able to guide them back on the right path again, and suddenly their eyes regained their spark; their dough's color was returned, and you'd send them off to resume their normal life.

After the Dark Cacao Kingdom was 100% liberated from the flour storm, you ventured to Beast Yeast to find her, eventually meeting Cloud Haetae Cookie, who had been revived.

They didn't seem bothered by the fact their own master killed them, taking you personally to see her and giving you steamed rolls as they talked about her battle with Dark Cacao Cookie.

"She almost convinced him to accept futility. She was so, so close..but then that fool had to go and summon these two dragons to help him-"

"Who are you speaking to, Cloud Haetae Cookie?"

Before you could respond, Mystic Flour takes one look at your face and immediately knows who you are.

"[Y/n] Cookie. You're the reason why my clouds of apathy have lifted.."

"Well..having a bunch of nameless, faceless cookies moping about doesn't exactly make the world go round, my dear." You jest, although you fall silent as she just stares through you. "I know your heart carries a most heavy burden. The burden of not being able to satisfy everyone..and being a victim of-"

"You have not once set foot in my Ivory Pagoda to talk. And now, after all these years..." Given her pause...you knew her emotions were trying to bubble to the surface. Like yeast rising.

"I understand. I've heard it from the others already. This...comes much too late." You bow your head. "I remember seeing those lines, and I didn't wish to be perceived as another beggar. I'm sure you already knew my wish."

"They always expected you to solve their problems." She continued. "But it never feels like enough, does it? Don't you grow weary of their endless demands? Their pleas for you to "fix" everything wrong with them? You can only help them so much before they bleed you dry and give you nothing, [Y/n] Cookie. Not even a "thank you". Trust me...I have been there." Her face darkens. "We are not so different."

"Perhaps not. We've always looked out for the best interest of cookies...at our own expense." You agreed. "But I know a lot of them have appreciated my help. I'm sorry they never gave you that same respect, Mystic Flour Cookie."

"I do not dwell on it, for it is futile. It's a shame that you would never come to accept that same futility."

"I don't see a reason to start now," you chuckle, before you talked to her more about your recent work and the cookies you've helped, including Shadow Milk and Burning Spice.

It's clear that you reminded her of her old self a lot--before all the selfish cookies came along and attributed to her pain and corruption and imprisonment.

She thought she could talk you out of that path, certain you'll realize what true futility is like she did...

But you remain steadfast in your duty to help all cookies you meet. Even her.

[writerinthewoods05]

Hellooooo! I've never really sent a request before so I hope I'm doing this right. I saw that you write for adult Nyx and NO ONE ever really writes for him so I was wondering if you could write Nyx x reader based off of the song "not like I'm in love with you" by LEW. Basically just them being like older teenagers maybe and just acting like pining idiots. Maybe if you could do some smut too🥺🙏 I just I love your stuff and I've had this idea in my head and I can't write it myself so... Also I love shadows and snow angels!!!! So cute!!!

Oh my gosh Lovely, your brain! I love it! This was so fun to work on and I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

We're just friends, right?

Nyx Archeron x Fem Reader

Here's the Spotify code if anyone wanted to listen while reading, just screenshot or download it and scan it in the app.

Ever since Nyx turned 18 he was always flirting a new female. He hardly ever spent time with you anymore and you were upset! I mean you had every write to be, you were his best friend, Which meant you automatically deserved his undivided attention constantly. Rhys thinks otherwise, maybe he can try to knock some sense into you both.

Word count: 10.1k oh my God!!!!

Requested: yes!

Warnings: smut, so much plot, jealousy, p-in-v, oral F receiving, unprotected sex, fairly vanilla surprisingly, Nyx being oblivious for a bit, Nyx also being a skirt chaser, Rhys being the dad we all deserve, we die like men

💔🔥💘

Author's note: this took sooooooooo looooooong! First the app glitched and I lost an hour worth of editing. Then it did it again and I gave up for about 20 minutes and then I came back to try again to find that the app did save the changes and just decided not to tell me! In any case, this fic has taken over 7 hours of editing so far not including the writing so I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!

You sat on Nyx's bed and listened to him as he told you about the fling he had the night before. He was in the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely around his waist as he shaved. You rolled your eyes for the millionth time knowing he couldn't see you at the moment. You were Nyx's best friend had been since you were kids, Unfortunately that meant that you were basically volunteering to listen to him after he has a fling with a new female. Oh well you choose this...

"Ok so after Rita's you took her back to her place and...."

Nyx poked his head out of the bathroom, a lather of shaving cream on his jaw as his eyes met yours. He flashed you a cheeky grin, clearly amused by your eye-rolling antics.

"Well, as you can imagine, things got a bit... heated," he said, drawling the last word. "I mean, have you seen Mia's s place? The view alone was enough to get my blood pumping." He chuckled and disappeared back into the bathroom, the sound of the faucet turning back on. You could hear him continue, his voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls,

"So there we were, on her balcony, the city lights twinkling below us... and one thing led to another. You know how it goes, Anyway, let's just say she was quite... enthusiastic, and the things that girl can do with her hands... Also she moaned like a bitch.. in a good way of course you know Very vocal, if you catch my drift." Another pause, followed by a low, appreciative whistle.

Nyx emerged a moment later, now shaving cream-free and rubbing a towel over his freshly shaven jaw. He flopped down on the bed next to you, still bare- chested and barefoot, the towel just barely covering his modesty.

"Honestly, Y/n, the things that girl could do with her tongue... I'm not sure I'll ever be the same." He shuddered dramatically, a dazed grin spreading across his face at the memory. You knew he was just try to pester you but said nothing. Rolling over to face you, he propped himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief and self- satisfaction.

"So, what do you think? Should I go see her again like tomorrow, Or do you think I should let her miss me.... just a little bit?" His grin turned sly, a eyebrow arching wickedly as he waited for your reaction. He knew you'd give him hell, but he also knew you'd never stop him from having his fun... even if a small part of you wished it could be you he was eager to see again.

You gave him a kinda grossed out face at hearing the details but thought for a second. You were just being a good friend, at least that's what you told yourself. It's not like you wanted him like that.... It was just... Whatever...

"You should go for it, I mean if you enjoyed yourself that much... Why wait right?"

Nyx's grin widened, his eyes glinting with triumph as he saw the slightly green tinge to your face.

"Why so squeamish, Y/n?" he teased, reaching out to playfully boop your nose. "It's not like I'm telling you anything you haven't heard before Besides, you're the one who always says I should be more adventurous. He smirked, the word dripping with innuendo. Rolling onto his back, Nyx folded his hands behind his head, stretching out languidly like a satisfied cat.

"I think... I think I will take your advice. Meet up with mia again tomorrow night, see where things go. Unless... you have other plans for me?" His tone was playful, but there was a flicker of something more in his eyes as he looked at you, a hint of a different kind of hunger,

"Gross!"

You shoved his shoulder as he sat up, grabbing the towel before it could fall. You smirked and watched as he entered his closet to find an outfit. It always stung to hear about Nyx's escapades for some reason but he was the high lord and lady's son. He was as witty as his mother and as handsome as his father, no wonder females basically threw themselves at his feet. You'd be lying if you hand thought about doing the same but really you and Nyx had been friends since you were kids, you were just being ridiculous.

"How about this time you wear a shirt that has buttons past your bellybutton" You tease him as you stay on the bed and let him change in peace. Nyx stuck his head out of the closet, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and the way you'd shoved his shoulder.

"Oh, so now you're modesty police?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock outrage. "I thought you liked the view, Y/n." His eyes twinkled with playful accusation, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He disappeared back into the closet, the rustle of fabric and the clunk of hangers on the rack filling the air. A moment later, he emerged wearing a crisp black shirt, the buttons indeed done up all the way to the top. The shirt accentuated the broad expanse of his shoulders and the lean lines of his chest. He did a little twirl, his grin widening as he caught you staring.

"There, is this better?" he asked, a smug note in his voice. "Or do you have other... sartorial advice you'd like to share?" There was a playful lilt to his tone, but also a hint of something softer, gentler. A warmth that made your heart skip a beat, even as your mind told you you were being ridiculous. You stood with an annoyed smile and walked over to him before making him lightly on the chest and walking past him into the closet.

"Well now you just look like nerd. At least unto the top two, seriously how you ever get laid is beyond me..." You say sarcastically as you grab a jacket that would match his look and the weather both.

Nyx's eyes widened in mock offense at your teasing jab, a hand flying to his chest as if wounded.

"A nerd? Me? Why, because I actually bother to cover up in polite company?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'll have you know, the ladies find my intellect... captivating... Among other things..." He said with a smirk as he flecks his arms making the fabric go taut. there was a playful gleam in his eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As you rummaged through his closet, pulling out a sleek leather jacket that would complement his outfit perfectly. Nyx leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an amused expression.

"But I suppose I can take your fashion advice, just this once," he said, plucking the jacket from your hands and slipping it on. The leather hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his lean, athletic build. He struck a pose, cocking an eyebrow at you with a grin. "There. I'm practically a fashion icon now, Happy now?" There was a playful note in his voice, a teasing lilt that made your heart flutter in your chest. But there was something more too, a warmth and affection that made you feel cherished, valued...

"your a dork you know that." You say chuckling as you pass him again to go get your shoes and purse. It was Friday which mean you, Nyx, Rhys, Feyre, Azriel and Morr would go to Rita's, to have a night out. Nyx's grin only widened at your teasing jab, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Guilty as charged," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "But you love me anyway, you big softy." He winked at you, a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you gather your things. As you both made your way downstairs, Nyx slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close.

"You ready for a night out?" he asked, a note of excitement in his voice. "I hear Rita's has a few new drinks on the menu . Might be a good chance to cut loose, dance a bit, maybe with someone else for a change..." His eyebrows danced suggestively above his smirk, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

Nyx's parents and aunt and uncle were already waiting by the door, looking stunning as always. Feyre's gown was a shimmering work of art, while Rhys and Morr were equally impeccable in their formal attire. Azriel even wearing his normal black leathers seemed to look just as put together as always. They turned to greet you both, warm smiles on their faces. "Bekah, you look lovely," Feyre said, pulling you in for an air kiss on each cheek. "And you, my love look like your father, as always." she teased, a playful note in her voice.

"thanks mama." Nyx's eyes crinkled with affection as he came and kissed his mother on the cheek.

Already you could feel the anticipation building, the promise of a night filled with laughter, dancing, and maybe, just maybe, a chance to let go and be a little reckless. You could only hope that nyx would actually spend the night with you guys instead of running off for the night with the first female he smiles at. It had been so long since he had actually spent time with any of you when you weren't at the house.

once you got to Rita's, the six of your found a table and ordered dinner and drinks. This was probably the third or fourth time you'd been allowed to drink alcohol here. You didn't handle it particularly well and You didn't love it by any means but you tolerated it enough to indulge when your overly nervous.

You glanced over at Nyx, noticing he was quieter than usual. You followed his gaze to a pretty blond female all the way at the bar across the dance floor. Of course..... You'd been here 10 minutes and he already got his eyes set on someone, at least he wasn't up and leaving the table yet but you knew that could change at any second so you focused your attention on having a conversation with Rhys. Nyx wasn't a womanizer, he was kind and did think of other people's feelings. Granted if a female showed interest in him he usually wouldn't turn her down but he was never against a relationsh- why the hell are you even thinking about this! It has nothing to do with you! Gods what is wrong with you as of late, it was exhausting....

Nyx felt your gaze on him and glanced over, catching your eye. He offered you a small, distracted smile, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. The blonde at the bar had caught his attention, her laughter ringing out over the pulsing beat of the music as she joked with her friends. He downed the rest of his drink, the amber liquid burning its way down his throat, before standing abruptly.

"Be right back," he murmured, not quite meeting your eyes as he made his way towards the bar. You watched him go, a mix of exasperation and... something else, something you didn't want to acknowledge, churning in your gut. This was just like Nyx, spotting a pretty face and being drawn in like a moth to a flame. But then again, when had he ever been able to resist a challenge, a chance to charm and captivate? It was in his nature, a part of his very being, Feyre said he got that from his father. And yet, a small, traitorous part of you wished, just for once, that he might look at you the same way, with that same heated intensity... But no, you pushed that thought away, disgusted with yourself for even entertaining such a notion.

you mentally try to shake the feeling of and turn your attention back to Rhys seeing as your friend as yet again left family time to go get laid. Shit this was becoming a habit... And it was really starting to bothering you.

Rhys noticed your distraction and followed your gaze to where Nyx was now engaged in animated conversation with the blonde, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, studying you with a thoughtful expression. "He's a grown male, sweetling," Rhys said, his voice a low rumble. "He knows what he's doing." There was a note of mild reproach in his tone, a subtle reminder that you were being a bit... overprotective. Possessive, even. But then again, Rhys had always seen the depth of your bond with his son, the unbreakable connection forged in childhood that had only grown stronger with time.

you made a face and shook your head dismissively.

"I know that. It's just... Annoying," Sure let's go with that. You thanked the Cauldron when your drinks arrived. You took a large sip of your drink in hopes of clearing your head of what ever this possessive, Jealous feeling... No, not not jealous, that would be ridiculous...

"This used to be when we all would spend time together and ever since be turned 18 he never... Nevermind, doesn't matter."

You took another sip and made absolutely sure to keep your eyes away from the bar. Rhys's eyes softened as he studied your face, a flicker of understanding in their depths. He reached out, his large hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a comforting, fatherly gesture. "Ah, y/n," he said, a note of gentle reproach in his voice. "Is that what's bothering you? That things have changed now that your both getting older?" His gaze drifted to where his son stood still engrossed in conversation with the blonde. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he turned back to you.

"He's not a child anymore, sweetling. He has... needs and desires that he's just beginning to explore. It's natural, at his age. Lets not forget, he's a freshly adult Illyrian male, I'm not going to sit her and pretend that we aren't known for getting around. Rhys's thumb absently rubbed your shoulder, a soothing motion. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to spend time with you anymore. You're still his bestfriend, That will never change-"

You cut him off and shrug him his hand off of your shoulder. Rhys had always been like a second dad to you and you were always very welcome to any advice he had for you but for once you didn't want to fucking hear it. You made sure to slam your mental shields up and close the cracks snugly before your responded.

"I don't need the sex talk Rhys. I'm not a kid either ok, I just meant that it just... Aggravating that he'd rather spend his time chasing females that do actually give a fuck about him over spending time with his family. It fine he's his own person, it's just annoying...."

You you didn't try to cover the disgruntled look on your face as you down the last of your drink as signal the bartender to send you another. Rhys watched as you downed your drink and signaled for another, a hint of concern flickering across his face. He knew this was a sensitive subject for you, a raw nerve that you didn't want him to touch. But he also knew that sometimes, the things we didn't want to hear were the things we needed to hear most.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice low and gentle. "I understand your frustration. I do. But you need to accept that people change as they grow older, and so do their priorities. Nyx will always make time for you, no matter what. But he's also entitled to his own life, his own experiences."

Rhys paused, letting his words sink in. "Spending time with a pretty female isn't a betrayal of his friendship with you. It's a part of him growing up, and I know you used to be extremely close but-"

you just stood and grabbed your bag before turning to Rhys a badly disguised pissed off expression etched into your face.

"Actually I'll see you all at home. l forgot I have to be up early tomorrow, I'm gonna head home early."

You said with a dry tone before turning and striding to the exit and leaving. It was clear that Rhys, in trying to meditate, had only pissed you off more. What he didn't see was the hurt that made you feel like screaming when you realized Nyx hadn't even noticed you'd left. You only felt the burning of Rhys and Feyre's gaze burning into your back.

Nyx was still engrossed in conversation with the blonde, oblivious to your abrupt departure. He was laughing at something she said, a hand resting casually on her hip as he leaned in close to hear her over the pulsing music. The blonde was eating it up, hanging onto his every word, her eyes shining with admiration and a hint of something more. Nyx was in his element, charming and captivating, but he was also utterly focused on his new companion, not sparing a thought for the empty chair across the room where you had been sitting. The sight made you sick, your stomach twisting painfully.

You didn't stop storming out of the building even when you hard footsteps coming after you. You finally decided to turn and for a half second your heart jumped to see a dark figure emerge from the the doors. Only to have that flutter be smashed again to see Rhys exit and not his son. Nyx really didn't even notice you left... Why the fuck did you even care anyway, the answer was getting harder and harder to deny with every passing day.

"Y/n, wait," he said, his voice low and urgent. Rhys caught up to you quickly, his longstrides eating up the distance between you. He reached out, his hand closing around your elbow, halting your furious retreat.

"I know you're upset, but please, talk to me, you know I'm always here." There was a note of concern in his tone, a hint of something else, something that made your heart skip a beat despite your anger.

Rhys guided you to a quiet spot nearby, away from the thrumming music and chatter of the bar. He studied your face, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and worry. "Talk to me," he coaxed softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on your elbow. "Tell me what's really bothering you. Is it... is it just about Nyx? Or is something else? Whatever it it, bottling it up isn't going to help you sweetling." His gaze was intense, searching, as if he could see right through to the tangled mess of your emotions. As if he knew that the anger masking your face was only a flimsy veil for something much deeper, much harder to name.

You close your eyes and force yourself to keep your mental shielding up as you thought of a way to respond without sounding absolutely pathetic.

"I just... I have, other things going on and I'm just... Like I said I have to be up early tomorrow, I'd just be better if I went home now..."

You avoided the question with as many lies you could muster. You HATED lying to Rhys but you felt like your heart and mind was rebelling against each other and you couldn't tell him why you were upset if you couldn't even admit it to yourself

Rhys's eyes narrowed, a flicker of skepticism crossing his handsome features. He wasn't convinced by your flimsy excuse, and he knew you well enough to see through any pretense. Leaning in closer, his voice dropped to a low, intimate murmur,

"Y/n darling, look at me." His fingers tightened gently on your elbow, a silent command. "I've known you since you were a little girl. Your the closet to a daughter I have and I can tell when something is your not telling me something, and why won't you just tell me what's wrong?" His gaze softened, a glimmer of compassion and understanding in their depths. "Please, talk to me. Let me help you, you know the last thing I'll ever do is judge you for hurting... whatever it may be. You don't have to do it alone." There was a tender note in his voice, a gentle encouragement, as if he were coaxing a skittish horse to trust him. His thumb continued its slow, soothing circles on your elbow, a silent promise of comfort and support.

Your eyes were locked on the concrete as they welled slightly and you just let yourself lean forward to hug him.

"I'm just... I don't have a right or a... A reason to be mad but I am... And I'm so fucking angry that I don't know why..."

Another lie... You knew deep down exactly why you were angry and it wasn't even with Nyx. You were mad at yourself for being a fucking coward.

Rhys wrapped his strong arms around you as you leaned into his embrace, holding you close. He made no move to pull away, allowing you the comfort of his warm, solid presence. "Shh, it's alright," he murmured, one hand coming up to stroke your hair in a soothing gesture. He he rested his cheek on top of your head gently as rocked you from side to side, the same why he would when you were a kid and scraped your knee. "Everyone has a right to their feelings, Bekah. You don't need a reason to be upset." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "Sometimes, the most difficult feelings to understand are the ones that come from within ourselves. They can be the hardest to acknowledge, to accept." His voice was low and gentle, a tender rumble in your ear. His hand continued its gentle caress, a silent reminder of his unwavering support and love.

"it's like I don't exist to him anymore..."

You whispered into his chest and just slumped to lean into him more. You had never even wanted 'that type of attention from Nyx but at the same time, for some reason, you didn't think you'd ever have to ask for it either....

Rhys's arms tightened around you as he heard the quiet admission, a flicker of realization crossing his face. He leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Darling," he said softly, his eyes searching yours with a newfound understanding. "You could never be ignored, not by anyone, and certainly not by my son." His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I love you, sweetling. We all do." His voice dropped to a low, fervent whisper.

His gaze held yours, intense and sincere, a silent promise. "And I know Nyx loves you too, even if he's not always the most... perceptive about showing it." A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he pulled you back into his embrace, cradling you close. "Give him a chance, sweetling. Give yourself a chance to see what's right in front of both of you." His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he held you, a silent comfort and reassurance.

"He's always perceptive... That's the problem..."

Rhys stilled, a flicker of surprise and a hint of something else, something softer, crossing his features. He searched your face, a new understanding dawning in his eyes.

"You're upset because you feel invisible to him. Because you think he doesn't see you the way you've always seen him." His voice was low and gentle, a tender murmur. "But darling... that couldn't be further from the truth."

"Nyx sees you, Y/n. He's always seen you. He's just... not always the best about showing how he feels." A wry smile tugged at his lips before he brushed a tender kiss to your forehead, a silent comfort. "Be patient with him, you know he can be a bit slow sometimes." He said giving you tight squeeze if only to make you laugh.

"Right, he sees me and because he can't talk to me about it, he goes fucks anything with a pair of tits cuz that makes perfect fucking sense!"

Your anger flared faster that the heaviness that settled onto your chest once again. You pushed out of Rhys's hold before covering your face with your hands and giving Rhys a quiet apology before just turning on your heel and winnowing back to the river house.

Rhys watched you go, a mix of concern and newfound understanding etched into his handsome features. He stood there for a long moment, his brows furrowed as he processed the revelation, the pieces falling into place like a puzzle. Then, with a determined set to his jaw, he strode purposefully back into the bar, his mind made up.

Nyx was still engrossed in conversation with the blonde when Rhys approached, a look of grim determination on his face. He tapped Nyx on the shoulder, a gesture that was almost a bit too rough to be polite. Nyx turned, a look of embarrassment and mild annoyance flashing across his face before he saw who had interrupted him. Rhys leaned in close, his voice a low growl in Nyx's ear.

"A word, son?" he said, a note of command in his tone. He didn't wait for a response before turning and heading towards the entrance once again, expecting Nyx to follow. Nyx hesitated for a moment, a flicker of confusion and irritation in his eyes, before he muttered a quick apology to the blonde and followed in his father's wake.

Rhys led them to a quiet corner, away from prying ears and eyes. He turned to face Nyx, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression stern.

"Y/n left" he said without preamble, a note of accusation in his voice. "She was upset, and I think I know why." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Son, have you ever stopped to think about what that girl means to you? Really think about it?" His gaze bored into Nyx's, a silent challenge. Nyx opened his mouth to respond

"She's my bestfr-" a look of bewilderment crossed his face, as Rhys cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"No, listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense. "She is more than just your friend, she's your bestfriend and if you were using your brain she might actually be more. She's been by your side since you were a kid, a constant in your life. And you need to seriously think about how your actions might be affecting her" He paused, letting the revelation hang in the air between them.

"So why do you think she's hurting, Nyx? Why do you think she's been so agitated recently?" His gaze searched his son's face, a silent demand for honesty. Nyx stared at his father, a look of confusion and dawning realization slowly spreading across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if struggling to find the right words.

"I... I don't know," he said finally, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "I never really thought about it." He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of frustration and bewilderment. "I mean, Bekah is my best friend. She always has been. It's not like she really cares, she's the once egging me on most of the time, But..." He trailed off, a flicker of emotion crossing his features as the implications of Rhys's words sank in, Rhys watched his son closely, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"But what, Nyx?" he prompted softly, a gentle encouragement. "I know damn well your smarter than this boy."

His gaze searched Nyx's face, a silent demand for honesty and introspection. He didn't get it but he was satisfied when Nyx cursed under his breath and practically sprinted out to the street before winnowing away too.

You were in your comfort pajamas with a half eaten tub of ice cream and a sappy romance book in your lap by the time Nyx opened the front door and flew up the stairs. You had stopped crying by now and had just decided to stay in one of the guest rooms for the night to just wallow in your self pity and get lost on one of the love stories Nesta had lent you... It was easier that thinking about your actual predicament... When Nyx had bust through your door. You screamed and jumped from the bed as you started at him for a minute.

"What the actual Fuck Nyx! you scared me to death! What are you even doing back her, I thought you would have found somewhere else to be tonight?"

Thank the Gods the words didn't sound as bitter as they felt as you picked up your ice cream and book from where they had fell before standing and pulling on your robe gently trying not to act as if he hadn't been the one to practically rip your heart out of your ass and feed it too you in pieces.

Nyx stood in your doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. He looked.... disheveled, in a way you'd never seen him before. His hair was mussed, his shirt slightly askew, a look of barely contained turmoil etched into every line of his body. He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze roving over your pajama-clad form, taking in the ice cream, the book, the robe. Something flickered in his eyes, a heat that had nothing to do with the physical, and everything to do with the emotional turmoil that was clearly consuming him.

He took a step into the room, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. He reached out, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders, a gesture that was almost too tight to be gentle. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough and ragged. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I needed to talk to you." His thumbs rubbed small circles on your shoulder blades, a gesture that was almost unconscious, as if he couldn't help himself. He studied your face, a look of confusion and a hint of something else, something softer, in his dark eyes.

"Y/n," he said slowly, as if testing the name on his tongue. "Why did you leave? Why did you run off like that?" There was a note of accusation in his voice, a hint of frustration, but beneath it all, a current of something else. Something that made your heart skip a beat despite yourself. Like he was trying to get a specific answer from you. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm on your skin.

"And don't tell me it's because you had to be up early, cuz we both know that you never get up early after you drink..." he murmured, a wry note in his voice. know there's more to it than that. His gaze searched yours, a silent demand for the truth, a silent plea for understanding.

You scoffed slightly and pulled away before turning around and started to absentmindedly tidy your nightstand. Anything to avoid this conversion...

"Rhys needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut..." You mumbled bitterly. Nyx's reached to wrap a hand around your marn trying to turn you back to him, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense.

"No, Y/n don't make this about dad, This is about you, and me, and the fact that... I think I've been a blind idiot... for a really fuckin long time..." His gaze searched your face, a look of dawning realization and a hint of something else, something softer, in their depths. "Tell me, Tell me what's been bothering you, what's had you so upset lately." His thumb continued it's small, unconscious circles on your arm, a gesture that was almost soothing despite the tension that crackled between you.

"And don't lie to me. Not now, not about this." There was a note of command in his voice, a silent demand for honesty, but beneath it all, a current of something else. Something that made your heart race despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You let him angle your face to look back at him and swallowed hard as you looked for words. Your not used to seeing that look directed towards you and it was throwing you off. He was fishing for answers, he did this all the time. He had a hunch and he wanted you to confirm it.

"I don't know why I'm upset, probably just hormones or something..." You tried to make an offer handed joke in a last ditch effort avoid the question. "Your allowed to do what ever you want, none of my business...'

Nyx's eyes flashed with a sudden intensity, a glimmer of frustration and something else, something deeper, in their dark depths. He stepped closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Stop it," he said, his voice low and rough, a hint of a growl underlying his words. "Stop trying to dodge the question, stop trying to brush this off like it's nothing." He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a gesture that was almost... intimate.

"This isn't about your damn hormones, Y/n! This is about the fact that you've been hurting, and I want you to tell me why!"

"you know why! I just... I never thought I'd have to, fight for your attention. I thought I had it... And then you turned 18 and you proved to me how wrong i was."

Nyx's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of realization and a hint of something else, something softer, in their dark depths. He stared at you for a long moment, as if seeing you for the first time, as if truly taking in the weight of your words. His grip on your hair tightened slightly, a gesture that was almost unconscious, as if he couldn't help himself. "Y/n," he said slowly, his voice rough and low. "I... I never mea-"

"just drop it Nyx! forget it, it doesn't... Just forget it."

You huffed, cutting him off and pulling away from him again. You had to get outside, to get some fresh air. You pushed past him and ran down the stairs feeling like the walls were closing in on you. Nyx be damned, your heart be damned. he didn't get it. Of course he never meant to hurt you, how could you have ever thought he did. No.. NO you were angry because you were in lov-... shit you were in love with him. The acceptance hid you harder that the cold night air as you finally made to to the backyard.

Nyx stood rooted to the spot for a moment, a look of stunned disbelief on his face as you pushed past him and raced down the stairs. Then, as if shaking off a trance, he sprinted after you, taking the steps two at a time. He burst out into the backyard just as you were wrapping your arms around yourself, your breath misting in the chilly night air.

He approached you slowly, as if approaching a wild animal that could bite at any second, his hands held out in a gesture of supplication. "Y/n," he said softly, his voice low and gentle. "Please, don't run from me." He paused, a look of newfound understanding in his eyes. "You're in love with me, that's why you've been angry." It wasn't a question, but a statement. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours, a hint of something else, something softer, in their depths.

"yes asshole, fuck of course I..."

You kept your wrapped tightly wrapped around yourself as you tried to keep the panic from seeping into your voice. This was it, you fucked up but it wasn't fair. It was selfish and ridiculous but you wanted his attention, all of it, always! You wanted all of him to yourself! And you had no right to be angry from not getting what you wanted so much when you hadn't even tried to hint that you might have wanted him. You looked back at finally the devastation and the utter longing showing in your eyes. You wanted him, his mind his body, you wanted him so badly it hurt. You had pushed your emotions aside for so long that finally accepting them nearly sent you to the ground.

Nyx stood still, his eyes widening slightly as the realization of your confession sunk in, he hadn't honestly expected you to say it out loud. He stared at you, taking in the devastation and longing etched into every line of your face, the way your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face - surprise, confusion, a hint of fear, and then.... a softening, a warmth that began to glow in his dark eyes.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, his hands coming to rest on your your waist gently. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he held you too tightly. He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. You waited for the word to come, the anger, the frustration, but none did. One second he was cupping your face in his hand and the next he was hugging you so tightly you thought your lungs would burst. And the amount of whip lash you got from him pulling back and kissing you like you were life itself.

Your eyes fell closed before your body caught up to your mind and you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. You fingers tangled into his onyx hair as you felt him nip at your lower lip. To think half an hour ago you were cursing his existence and now, if you had your way, you be cursing his name for so many other reasons...

"Nyx..."

Nyx groaned softly against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours, a silent declaration of desire and want. He pulled you flush against him, eliminating any space between your bodies, as if he wanted to consume you, to make you a part of him

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, a hint of pain mingling with pleasure, a silent promise of passion and possession. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, a plea, a silent beg for more. And more is exactly what he gave you, his hands roaming over your curves, mapping out the contours of your body as if committing them to memory.

"Nyx, I..." He paused, his breath hot against your skin, a look of fierce intensity in his eyes as he met your gaze. "I love you, baby, I love you and I need you so fucking much right now." He sealed his confession with another kiss, a fierce, passionate claiming of your mouth, a silent vow of love and devotion.

If you hand been so lost in him you might have realized how strange it was for Nyx, the boy who had a new girl every few days seemed to confess to love so quickly. You also might have noticed the burning snap inside your chest as he lifts you into his arms and walked you slowly to press you against the side of the back deck, not seeming to care that you were still outside, completely exposed to anyone that might come home early.

Nyx didn't seem to care about anything but you in that moment, his eyes blazing with a newfound intensity as he held you close. Railing of the deck, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. He leaned into you, his hands gripping your hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your hip bones through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured. He nipped at your earlobe, a gesture that sent shivers down your spine. "I want everyone to know that you're mine, that you've always been mine." His voice was low and rough, a hint of a growl underlying his words.

His words set the fire in your heart spreading to every inch of you he touched. You moaned as you felt his hand come to rest under your ass kneading the plump flesh as he pinned you between himself and the deck. The smell hit you soon enough, Nyx smelled like vanilla and cologne, and books and... Home, he smelled like home. If you hadn't already giving into him completely, that, would have been the final push. Your hands quickly raced over the front of his shirt trying to undo the buttons without pulling his mouth from your neck.

Nyx groaned softly as your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his own hands tightening on your hips. He helped you, his deft fingers making quick work of the buttons until the shirt fell open, revealing the expanse of his chest. You ran your hands over the hard planes and ridges, marveling at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

He leaned back, giving you a moment to explore, a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Like what you feel, baby?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "You can touch me all you want, baby. I'm all yours." He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips, pressing his growing arousal against your core, a silent promise of what was to come.

Nyx's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you, a look of pure, unadulterated hunger etched into every line of his face. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hands sliding up your sides to cup the soft swells of your breasts after curly shoving your shirt up.

"I want to touch every inch of you, to taste every part of you, I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby." His thumbs brushed over your nipples the pads of his fingers digging in a bit. A gesture that made you arch into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Nyx looked up at you as he knelt before you, his dark eyes blazing with a feral intensity that made your heart race and your skin prickle with anticipation. He slowly peeled your shorts down your legs, his fingers trailing over your skin, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. As he tugged your shorts off, he leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, the shortest bit of scruff scraping lightly against your sensitive skin. He paused, looking up at you with a wicked grin, his hands gripping your thighs.

You pulled him back into a firm kiss and he set you down only to kneel in front of you and pull your shorts from your legs. The look in his eyes almost looked as feral as you felt. You didn't know if it was nerves or something more as you felt what felt like a second heartbeat, thudding in your chest, like a phantom it made your breath race faster.

"I want to taste you, babygirl. Fuck you smell so damn good..." His voice was a low, rough growl, a hint of a promise in his words as he leaned his forehead against your abdomen, his eyes locked on your slit and he breathes in deep, taking your scent again.

"Can I, baby? Can I taste you? Please?" His gaze held yours, a silent demand for permission, a silent plea for you to give yourself over to him completely

Your head fell back at his words as you lost your words again, You reached down to run your fingers through his now unruly hair, it was the only confirmation you could muster in this state of euphoria you were stuck in before he even touched you.

Nyx took the action as a yes, a low, approving growl rumbling in his chest. his breath hot against your pussy. He looked up at you one last time, his eyes dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race. Then, slowly, torturously, he leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue delving between your folds to taste your essence.

He groaned loudly at the first taste of you, the sound vibrating through you, making your hips jerk forward involuntarily. He gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he began to feast on you, his mouth and tongue working in tandem to bring you pleasure. He quickly picked your up and threw your thighs over his shoulders so you were resting on his face completely.

He focused on your clit, sucking and flicking the sensitive nub with a skill that left you seeing stars. Two fingers slid inside your dripping core, curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you climbing closer and closer to the edge. You let out a long throaty moan and bucked your hips a bit. Fuck he was good at that, he should be considered how many... No don't think about that right now it'll just piss you off again.

"Fuck Nyx, uuugh!"

Nyx looked up at you, a wicked grin on his face as he continued his ministrations. He could feel you starting to throb, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second. He knew you were close, could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He pulled back slightly, his fingers still pumping slowly, his thumb circling your clit with a maddening pressure.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, encouraging rumble. "Let go, babygirl. Come for me, baby, I want you to come in my mouth." His eyes held yours, a silent demand, a silent plea for you to give yourself over to the sensation, to let go and surrender to the ecstasy that awaited you.

You sink both hands into his hair and brace your shoulders back against the deck before bucking against his face again and again, chasing your orgasm so hard you wanted to cry before you felt that coll in your stomach snap, your movements jerking to a halt with a scream. Nyx groaned as he felt your walls clench and spasm around his fingers, your scream of ecstasy ringing in his ears.

"Oh good fucking girl!" He continued to lap at your dripping core, his tongue delving deep to catch every last drop of your release as you rode out the waves of your intense orgasm.

As your movements slowed and your breathing began to even out, Nyx slowly pulled back. He looked up at you, his face glistening with your essence, a look of pure male satisfaction etched into every line of his handsome face. He leaned down capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He swallowed your soft moans, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his large hands.

Nyou could barely stand and was beyond grateful when he picked you up again before climbing the few steps and laying you flat on the deck below him, bed he started pulling at the laces of his pants urgently. Nyx gazed down at you, his eyes dark and intense as he quickly worked at the laces of his pants. He could feel his cock throbbing, aching for your touch, for your heat. He needed to be inside you, needed to feel your walls wrapped around him like a velvet glove. He kicked his pants off along with his boxers, freeing his thick, hard length. It bobbed against his stomach, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He crawled up your body, settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your still sensitive entrance. Nyx leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"Ahh NYX Fuck!"

"I need you, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, urgent growl. "Fuck i need to be inside you, I'm gonna fuck you so good babygirl... Fuck look at me Fucking look at me..." He grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes as He rolled his hips, the head of his cock slipping inside your wet heat. He groaned as his head fell and his eyes rolled, letting out a silent plea for you to give him the words he so desperately needed to hear.

You lifted your shaky legs to wrap around his waist as your reached to cling to his shoulders. You hand landed firm on his chest as you tried to breath That damn second heart beat felt stronger now, and you felt like you were so warm you were gonna explode! Then you felt it, right before lined himself up with your entrance, his pulse, it matched... The burning in your chest, the need, the emotions, the pulse, you knew those signs. You didn't get a chance to think on it to hard before he thrust himself forward, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head at the delicious burn that came with the stretch.

"Nyx your- AHh! Fuck Nyx! Please your my- AHH FUUUUUCK!"

Nyx groaned loudly as he felt your tight, wet heat envelop him, your walls gripping his throbbing cock like a vice. He paused for a moment, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he fought the urge to come right then and there. "Fuck, Y/n," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect around my cock." He rolled his hips, grinding against you, letting you feel every thick, pulsing inch of him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured,

"I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much. Mm gonna to fuck you until you can't walk, your gonna be limping for days when I'm done with you." He pulled back slightly, his gaze holding yours, a look of pure, unadulterated love and desire.. and utter hunger etched into every line of his handsome face.

Nyx could feel your walls starting to flutter around his pistoning cock, could feel your body tensing as another orgasm built inside you. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he pounded into you with a ferocity that bordered on animalistic.

You could get the words out as he started thrusting into you hard and fast and fuck if it didn't make you want to let him take you whenever or wherever if it felt this good. Your mind was still screaming though the pleasure though, MATE, HE'S YOUR MATE' but you were too engulfed in him to scream anything other than his name as you felt yet another orgasm approaching quickly, fuck, the male was going to be the literal death of you!

"That's it, baby," he growled against your lips, his voice a low, urgent rumble. "Come for me, Y/n. Come all over my cock. Your doing so good babygirl, common! Please I'm so fucking close!" He angled his hips, hitting that special spot inside you with every deep, powerful thrust, determined to push you over the edge and into oblivion.

Nyx could feel his own release approaching rapidly, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your clutching heat. He was close, so close to filling you with his seed, to marking you as his mate in the most primal way possible. With a final, hard thrust and a hoarse shout of your name, he came, his hot, thick essence flooding your insides, painting your walls with his love and desire. As your high washed over you you felt it, a smaller distant snap, before you felt Nyx tense above you like a statue.

"You feel it... The bond..." You whispered in disbelief as you stared up at him, the world around you finally coming back into focus.

Nyx's eyes widened in shock as he felt the snap of the mate bond, a jolt of pure, primal energy coursing through his veins. He stared down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, a look of pure wonder etched into every line of his handsome face. He nodded slowly, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I feel it," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. "Fuck I feel it baby." He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own as he struggled to process the magnitude of what had just happened. He lifted a shaking hand, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache, and brushed a stray tear from your skin.

"I love you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice a low, fervent murmur. "More than anything. And now... Cauldron, your mine." He sealed his vow with a soft, sweet kiss, a silent promise of a love that would last a lifetime.

"I'm so sorry baby, I didn't know. Can you forgive me?" He say looking at you through half lidded eyes, his gaze hopeful as he hovered above you still. You chuckled at him before pulling him into another kiss and gently flipping his so you were straddling his hips instead.

"I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me..."

You both had stayed out there for at least another hour, you hadn't even accepted the bond but you felt like you were in the frenzy already. You must have passed out from utter exhaustion at some point because you woke up the next morning in Nyx's room snugged into his side as the morning light shifted through the blinds. You turned your gaze to look at Nyx, he looked so peaceful it made you so much more inclined to stay in bed forever.

"But you look so pretty when your sleeping."

"You know it's rude to stare..." Nyx mumbled without opening his eyes and you giggled slightly and leaned up to kiss his nose lovingly.

Nyx's eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your lips on his nose, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he blinked up at you. He reached up, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tender, loving caress. He chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through his chest.

"Pretty? I think that's supposed to be my line," he murmured, his voice still rough and gravelly with sleep. He tugged you down, capturing your mouth in a slow, deep kiss, a silent good morning greeting that made your toes curl.

As he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a look of pure, unadulterated contentment in his dark eyes. "Good morning, baby," he whispered, a hint of a growl underlying the words. "I hope you're ready for a long morning cuz I'm not nearly done with you yet." He pulled you at straddle him and rolled his hips, a clear indication of his growing arousal, a silent promise of the pleasure that awaited you both. You moaned but quickly scooted off of him before wrapping one the sheets around you and heading for his closet.

He pulled you flush against him, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip, holding you tight against the hard, muscular length of his body. "Come on baby, you can't just leave me like this..." He nipped at your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point, a silent, primal promise of the pleasure. His hand grasping your and grinding his naked cock into your palm, a small growl escaping his as he did.

"As much as I would enjoy that I think i need to go make you some breakfast. Unless you don't want me to..." You say teasingly know damn well he'd want to cement the mating bond as soon as possible. Nyx watched as you scooted away from him, a look of mild disappointment flashing across his face before being replaced by a wicked, mischievous grin. He lounged back against the pillows, his hands tucked behind his head, a look of pure, satisfaction etched into every line of his smile as he watched you wrap the sheet around your luscious curves. He cocked an eyebrow at your teasing words, a low, warning growl rumbling in his chest.

"Oh, I want you to make me breakfast, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "But can't you just stay here for a few more minutes..." He levered himself up, stalking towards you with a predatory grace, a look of pure, animalistic hunger in his dark eyes.

"you act like we will be able to keep are ands off of each other during the frenzy I think you can wait 20 minutes."

"Morning Rhys, morning Feyre."

You say chuckling as you lean up and kiss his cheek before pulling on a pair of his bants and a T-shirt and practically skipped downstairs, or as well as you could considering your legs still felt a bit numb.

"Come on, let's feed you before you eat me instead."

"you act like that would be a bad thing..." Nyx says and slaps your ass playfully and lets you leave so he can calm himself and get some pants on at least.

Once you got downstairs you saw that the coffee post was on already so you head out to the back yard deck, Nyx hot on your trail not dressed to be outside but at least he wasn't naked anymore. You stepped out to greet his parents who had breakfast out there every morning. You actively tried not to stare at the spot 5 feet away where their son had rearranged your intestines a few hours ago as you came and said hello as usual.

Nyx's parents looked up as you and Nyx stepped out onto the deck, offering you both warm smiles. Rhys, rolled his eyes as he took in Nyx's state of undress, while Feyre, his mother, simply smiled indulgently, as if this was a common occurrence. Maybe if you played it cool, they wouldn't find out that you both defiled their breakfast spot the night before.

"Good morning, Y/n," Feyre greeted, her voice warm and welcoming. "It's good to see your feeling better." She glanced at Nyx, a small dismissive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "And good morning to you too." She said to Nyx as he came over as kissed her forehead lovingly.

"morning Mama."

"Thank you sweetling but we've eaten, we were going to let you know that we are going to have to go take a trip to wind haven, Devlon is starting to act out of line so we should be back in a couple weeks."

"I'm gonna make breakfast if you want some, I can make extra." You offered, as you usually did, trying to seem like you weren't impatient for them to leave for the day. Rhys closed his paper and set it down before standing and stretching for a minute.

Rhys said calmly after offering his hand to his wife to help her stand. You were grateful that they were going to be gone considering you were planing on consummating the bond today, it doesn't tend to stay very quiet. You gave Nyx a look turning away from Rhys and Feyre as they entered the house again before you heard Rhys call over his shoulder.

"And the house better not look anything the the way we found the deck this morning by the time we get back!"

You and Nyx stared at eachother, your faces turning red and you both groaned. Well so much for them not finding out...

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading Lovelies, if you want to be added to the tag list just comment or dm me. Again comments are always welcome, I hope you enjoyed the story!

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[iniquitousyearning]

tom riddle. | this is your punishment

PAIRING: tom riddle x fem!reader

SUMMARY: prefect tom riddle catches you breaking the rules again, and this time decides to provide a different type of punishment he’s certain you won’t soon forget.

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, dubcon (entirely consensual), dom!tom, brat!reader, BDSM (light), intense humiliation kink, sexual punishment/ forced orgasm, inappropriate use of magic/spells, clit-stim orgasm, begging.

You had thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes to dance with disaster. Thirty minutes to dodge destruction. Thirty minutes to descend into the depths of the library, infiltrate the restricted section, slip the book on occlumency you clandestinely borrowed back into its rightful place, and ascend back to your dormitory before the harbinger of your nightmares—Head Prefect Tom Riddle—emerges from the prefects' bathroom and winds his way back down to the dungeons.

Thirty minutes felt like both an eternity and a heartbeat. The weight of impending doom pressing down on your chest as you crept through the darkened corridors, each shadow a lurking menace, each creak of the ancient floorboards a deafening scream that could betray your presence.

And though the stakes were disastrously high, you weren't entirely worried; you knew Tom Riddle's schedule as intimately as the lines on your palm, and he was nothing if not a creature of habit. But of course, there was always the chance. The slim, terrifying possibility that he might deviate from his usual routine. And being caught by him was the absolute last thing you needed right now.

Every second felt like a blade poised above your head, ready to drop at the slightest misstep. It was no secret that Tom Riddle had it out for you. By now, it was practically etched into the very stones of Hogwarts, a fact as immutable as gravity. Everywhere you went, every step you took, he was always there—watching, waiting, eager to catch you in some transgression.

The relentless scrutiny was exhausting. The number of detentions you'd served was staggering, the punishments you'd endured endless. Not to mention the droning, entirely condescending lectures and disappointed yet gleeful stares he always made sure to give you as he personally hauled you to Dumbledores office.

It was all bullshit, and certainly had nothing to do with your frequent rule-breaking or constant sneaking around. No, of course not. You most definitely never toed the line. You were as innocent as they come. As pure as the driven snow. In your mind it all boiled down to the fact that Tom Riddle had it out for you, plain and fucking simple. A personal vendetta written into the fabrication of his identity.

Because even if he did. Even if he did somehow manage to track you and uncover your clandestine activities by just being the perceptive cunning bastard that he is, there are certain things that simply defy logic. Some occurrences that just don't add up.

There are just some instances that can't be explained, save for the simplest conclusion: Tom Riddle has been inside your mind for months.

And that was precisely why you sought out the book on Occlumency—you needed it. Needed to learn how to block Tom out because if he wanted to play mind games, you were determined to play better. You were determined to keep up.

You knew Tom took pleasure in continually getting one step ahead of you, and as much as it utterly ticked you off—perhaps a twisted part of you enjoyed being caught by him—savoured the banter you shared including his threats that next time he'd take matters into his own hands, since even Dumbledore was growing tired of your antics. Perhaps you revelled in provoking him, in defying him like no other student dared, relishing the thrill of the chase.

Perhaps you simply loved to hate him. Because he was always so goddamn good at everything, always in control. It was maddening, intoxicating, and you couldn't deny the rush it gave you. His perfection was a thorn in your side, and yet, you craved it, sought it out like a moth to a flame, even if you'd never admit it.

Not to yourself, and most definitely not to him.

As the night droned on, you managed to make it to the library unscathed, slipping into the restricted section unseen. Everything was going according to plan, not a soul around to forsake you. And yet, just as you slipped the book back onto its origin shelf, you heard a distant yet distinct voice, accompanied by the determined clacking of perfectly polished dress shoes.

"—ah, yes. I believe I informed him that I would have an answer by tomorrow evening."

That voice. You could never fucking mistake it.

"—well, yes, Mr.Riddle—but he said—"

"No matter." The footsteps ceased. "You'll both await my determination until tomorrow's eve. Continue pressing and I will see to make you wait two more."

The bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill over onto the floor beneath you. His arrogance had always been a towering monument, casting shadows that seemed to suffocate all reason. Sure, he was the brightest star in the firmament, undeniably brilliant with features rivaling the gods themselves—chiseled jawline, captivating dark eyes—practically born to bask in his own glory.

Yet, for all his outward perfection, his self-assurance bordered on the verge of the grotesque.

"—yes, o-of course, Mr. Riddle..." you stifled a distasteful scoff. You weren't sure how that individual was even standing with such lack of spine. "—t-thank you, sir."

You didn't stick around to hear a response or the lack thereof. The voices were far enough to keep you breathing but close enough to damn near make you faint because you knew he was most likely just outside the iron gates. You couldn't afford to ponder the improbability of his presence or the surrealness of your predicament. You had to move—deeper, further out of sight.

Which was going perfectly well until you rounded a corner with a little too much intensity and collided directly into a small round table. The sharp screech of wood against wood cutting through the thick silence like a blade, echoing ominously in the vast, dim library. Panic seized you, every nerve electrified, as if the table's cry had been your own.

And it was roughly ten devastating seconds after this that you heard the creak of the iron gates opening behind you, and those same polished footsteps drawing forward with haste.

Fucking hell.

You'd spent enough time in the Forbidden Forest to know how to keep your calm, to know how to effectively avoid being noticed—how to silence your footsteps and slip around obstacles without leaving a trace, how to mask your scent with earth and leaves, how to blend into the shadows to avoid becoming prey to the creatures that lurk in the depths. Yet, the only predator you'd never been able to successfully evade was the one you were currently running from.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

A shadow that clung to you, a hunter whose senses were always sharper, whose instincts were always keener. No matter how well you hid, he always seemed to find you, as if he could sense the very beat of your heart.

Tonight—to your naive surprise, was no different.

"Think you can hide from me, do you?" Tom's voice slithered through the narrow gap between the shelves, smooth and dark as midnight. "Not quite stealthy enough, I'm afraid."

You pressed your back against the cold wood, trying to steady your breathing, but his words seemed to wrap around your throat, squeezing the air out of your lungs and replacing it with something dizzying.

"Why don't you come out, little snake?" He purred, his footsteps drawing closer, each one a death knell. "We both know how this game ends."

Little snake. Two words that rooted you to the spot. It was impossible, inconceivable that he could know it was you. Yet the nickname, the venomous familiarity of it, left no room for doubt.

You slipped around the corner, the two of you making calculated moves like chess pieces. Your board was one of evasion, his one of domination. The gates were in clear view now as you paused to determine his position, silently mapping the space between here and there, certain that if you ran fast enough you could make it—if you moved quietly enough he wouldn't know which direction you were heading.

"You're only making this worse for yourself, darling." Arrogance so thick you weren't sure how he wasn't choking on it. And as much as you detested it, something about it sparked heat between your thighs. "You know I always win."

With the desperation of a cornered, wounded animal, you decided you were done playing and began making a silent yet brisk path toward the gates. You knew you could get about three shelves deep before you needed to take cover again. The silence was deafening, urging you to move faster.

And just as you were about to reach your next hiding spot, just about to duck back in between the shelves, a sudden sensation of pressure coiled around your ankle, cementing you to the spot.

"What the f-"

It was as if the very air had turned to iron, suffocating you with its weight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down, disbelief flooding your senses. The once innocuous carpet beneath your feet now glowed with enchantment, its fibres twisting and contorting, snaking around your ankles and climbing steadily up your calves.

"There she is." It was an echo from behind you, deep vocal inflection choking you with its pride. "Always so deliciously predictable.”

The fibres wound tightly around your upper calves, constricting tighter against your leggings as you squirmed, struggling to free yourself. Tom appeared beside you with a leisurely saunter, his smirk so smug it seemed almost tangible.

Your frustration bubbled over into a groan of disbelief. "You charmed the fucking carpet?"

"Of course," Tom replied. "Why do things the hard way when magic can do it for you?" He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over you, drinking in your entirety, running the tip of his wand up your arm. "You should know, little snake, I always find a way to catch my prey."

You watched as two dark eyes dipped low, lingering over the thickness of your thighs, fighting against the tendrils of the enchanted carpet that had now crawled tightly around them. You certainly felt like captured prey, tangled in a web of his making, awaiting his next move—and he certainly didn't miss how tantalizingly prepared for him you were, like a gift waiting to be unravelled.

"Impressive, Riddle—you've really outdone yourself this time," you spat the words through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to smack his wand away, battling the unwanted heat pooling in your core. It was the way he was looking at you. The way you wanted him to keep doing it. "Guess you can add 'carpet tamer' to your long list of accolades now, huh?"

Tom huffed, a glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he forced them up to meet yours. The corners of his lips curled upward in a smirk, every pore radiating control. He looked at you as though you were a puzzle he had already solved, a game he had already won.

"Now now, darling, no need to be so dramatic." His free hand reached up and grasped your jaw, kinking your neck back as he stepped closer to you. "Though, I think 'little fucking brat tamer' might be the more notable achievement to add to the list."

Your stomach leapt, your teeth sinking into your tongue for a moment as you fought to gather your sanity. Your defiance was draining like sand in an hourglass.

"Hm." You huffed, the grip on your jaw firm as steel. "Quite the mouthful."

"So I've been told," he shot back, his eyes glinting like shards of glass under the dim light. "You'd know all about mouthfuls, wouldn't you?"

"You fucking wish." You hoped he did.

His smirk deepened, his fingers digging into your skin like iron claws. You could tell he was amused by you, as though you'd just delivered the punchline of the century, as though you were the world's most revered stand-up comedian. It was maddeningly infuriating and dangerously captivating all at once.

"Still wielding that weapon of a tongue, even when you've so clearly lost." He remarked with a click of his own tongue, releasing his grip on your jaw. Stepping back, his eyes devoured the sight of his spell tangled around your thighs. You caught the tension in his jaw before his eyes snapped back to yours. "Tell me, little snake, do you know why I admire this spell so much?"

Your gaze remained fixed on him, anticipation crawling over your skin like a colony of ants as he scrutinized you. You offer him a shake of your head, a scowl etched deep on your features. "Can't read your mind, Riddle. Not everyone is a skilled Legilimens like yourself."

Tom's chuckle rang out, swallowed by the thick tension in the air, suffusing the oxygen you desperately tried to gulp down. He moved to circle you, and you felt his presence looming behind you, his body brushing against yours like a whisper in the wind. One hand found your hip, however softly, as though he was reluctant to touch you.

"It's a very versatile spell, darling," he dismissed your sass, his voice stripped of all emotion as his lips hovered closer to your ear. "The best part being...I know exactly how to manipulate it to get you to listen."

Words withered on your tongue, attitude wilting in your lungs, and oxygen fleeing from your veins—never to return. Tom's looming presence behind you was enough to make your chest constrict, but his words—his words were a different beast altogether. In the countless times he's caught you, never once did you imagine yourself here, like this, with him.

And never once did you imagine yourself enjoying it this fucking much.

"One might describe it as remarkably adaptable, catering to a multitude of desires..." his hand floated away from your hip, his fingers subtly dancing—the coils responding to his ministrations and slithering higher up your thighs. "And you, little brat, have a plethora of desires at this moment, do you not?"

Your jaw nearly smacked the floor as you watched him command the spell without the aid of his wand. You felt your stomach twist into an iron knot, something heating your blood to flame. Perhaps you underestimated him, perhaps you-

"F-fuck-" you gasped as the charmed fibres slithered between your thighs, coiling higher and higher, wrapping around your waist and ensnaring your arms at your sides. The pressure on your cunt sent your head reeling, your entire body quivering. "Tom...what..."

You know Tom is just beaming with satisfaction, the tremor in your voice eliciting a low growl from deep within him as his hold on your hip resumes, his lips teasing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Speak up, little doll, articulate your thoughts," he murmured, his words dripping with cunning like poison. "I know you possess an abundance of them."

You suppress a groan, squirming in a futile attempt to free your wrists, to move against the relentless hold. The heat of Tom's presence behind you has your senses in a frenzy. Your head spinning, your body silently yearning for more. You despise how much you're enjoying this, whatever this even is.

You whimper, lids fluttering. "This...this isn't fair..."

"Neither is disobeying the rules every fucking chance you get—but here we are," his hand brushed against your thigh, fingertips barely grazing, his voice drifting further from your ear. "You should understand, this is all your own doing...the charm merely responds to your desires, adapting to fulfill them.”

That insufferable bastard. The list of descriptors you'd use to paint his portrait would stretch longer than the very library you're standing in, and then some. Every time you think you've unraveled his mysteries, he unveils another layer that exposes just how brilliantly twisted he truly is. How charming. How intoxicating.

You loathe him, relish in despising every fiber of his being. Yet you can't deny the fact that he outmaneuvered you, in the most tantalizing manner imaginable.

But still, you attempt to deny it. "That's...that's not..."

He muses. "Isn't it?"

Tom withdraws his hand from your thigh, and almost immediately, you ache for its return, the absence of his touch leaving you yearning. Caught off guard by the tendrils of the charm exerting pressure against your core, teasing over your clit, you squeeze your eyes shut, teeth sinking into your lip to stifle any sounds.

"It appears you have a penchant for challenging me..." his voice is a certain murmur. "It seems the charm knows precisely why.”

All the smugness of a deity himself, a walking, talking colossus among mere mortals. As inevitable as the sunrise each morning. It made you want to bare your teeth at him, but instead, all you could manage was a groan, struggling against the pleasure his charm inflicted upon you.

"I'm not quite certain what you would deem a fitting punishment..." he continues, voice as deep as the depths of your desire. As dark as an all encompassing black hole. "—given the countless ones you've endured in the past months, which have clearly taught you nothing."

You groan again, your head bowing as you gaze down at the tendrils of the enchantment, ensnaring you in the clutches of a man with teeth of diamonds, fingers like razor-sharp claws. It'd been a relentless dance of dominance between you for years, a battle of wills that always seems to end in his favor.

You despise how he effortlessly wields his power over you. How he has so easily read between the lines of your story—knowing precisely the effect he has on your body, knowing exactly what you crave.

You fight back a moan. "Mmmff—fuck..you..."

Tom maneuvers his mouth to your ear, his presence pressing against you from behind, the ghost of his breath caresses your skin as he whispers;

"You wish you could."

Beautiful, insufferable bastard.

"Fuck," you huff through gritted teeth, sweat gathering behind your neck, fingernails biting into your palms as you clench your fists, still battling against the overwhelming pleasure. "Get out of my head.."

You feel a low chuckle resonate against your back, its vibrations stirring something primal within you, his fingers grazing against your side.

"Do you truly believe this is mere manipulation, little snake?" Tom's touch begins to ascend, feather-light and elusive, barely registering against your clothes as he presses closer behind you. "I am intimately acquainted with your desires, darling. I've been privy to them for months." You can almost taste the smugness in his voice. "The truth is fairly simple—you crave me, and you despise yourself for it."

Tom takes a deliberate step back, circling around to stand before you, his gaze sweeping over your disheveled form. Your breath comes in rapid gasps, your skin flushed with desire, and you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. You yearn for more of him, yet you resist acknowledging it, even to yourself.

It's as though he can see your thoughts, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in. "You'd go to any lengths to avoid admitting it, wouldn't you?"

"Gods—" he's right, and you hate him for it. “Mmmf.”

Tom hums softly, his lips barely suppressing a smirk as he steps closer to you. He reaches up, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he tilts your chin, compelling you to meet his gaze.

"How about we try a simple question?" His dark eyes bore into yours, their depths ablaze with a devilish glint. "Do you wish it to stop?"

You're rendered speechless. The egotistic side of you wants you to say yes—while the other, larger part is consumed with an insatiable hunger for more, for him. The charm swirls over your clit, applying increased pressure against your leggings, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip again to stifle a desperate moan. You couldn't answer him if you tried.

Tom's eyes roam over your face, not willing to miss a thing. "Use your words...tell me what you need..."

The sensation against your clit intensifies further, as if dancing to the rhythm of his words. You can feel his gaze boring into you as the heat between your thighs surges, and you realize you're on the brink of climax. And Tom knows it.

"Fuck..." your hips twitch involuntarily—torn between craving more friction and fleeing from it—your mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. Tom brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, his gaze fixed on his own movements, and you feel yourself unraveling, succumbing to the scorching intensity of his eyes—two dark pools of permanent ink. "Tom...please..."

His grip tightens. His jaw clenches. "Say it."

Shame courses through your veins, searing your skin like molten lava, the prickling sensation drowning you. You're on the verge of climaxing from an enchanted carpet, a manifestation of his spell, and the humiliation threatens to consume you.

"I need you-" you gasp, the words tumbling from your lips in a pitiful plea, desperation sinking its claws into your soul. So close...too close. "Please—please, I—I don't want to cum from this—I..."

Oh, but you do. You most certainly fucking do though the mere thought of admitting it feels like a dagger twisting in your gut. Tom's eyes glint with amusement, his head cocked slightly as he regards you with a faux expression of pity, as artificial as the plastic plants in the common room.

"I've truly made a mess of you, haven't I?" His hand glides down from your face, tracing a path along your neck, lightly grazing over your collarbone. "Tell me what you want from me."

Gods, you ache to strike him—yet crave to kiss him and cry out his name with equal fervour. Your defiance lies shattered, a broken relic at your feet.

You peer up at him, pleading. "Please, Tom, please touch me—I need you..."

A smirk toys at his lips, his fingers slipping under your jaw once more to hold you steady as he leans in closer.

"Touch you?" His voice is like a loaded gun, his fingers the bullets—intent cocked and ready to annihilate, but instead he taunts you, keeps you on edge, pressing the barrel against your temple just to see the look in your eyes. "You want me, the man you so madly fucking detest, to touch you."

You lack the strength to command him to go to hell, but oh, how you wish you did. Just to witness his reaction, to see what he’d do next. Despite his appalling self-assurance, you can see behind the mask—see how he is genuinely taken aback by your submission, as though he never expected you to surrender, to confess your desire for him.

"Tom, please..." you beg, trembling with anticipation, your impending climax a rapidly swelling tide. "I want you...I want you to make me cum—you-you win."

Tom pulls back from your ear to regard you, his gaze fully focused this time. He takes in the sight of you—trembling, panting, wide-eyed before him—his expression conveying complete contentment in simply observing you as you struggle to persuade him to touch you.

That familiar taunting grin lingers upon his lips, uncontainable, and you know he's relishing this moment far too much.

"I know," he says softly, his thumb tracing your jawline as his hand falls to your neck. "I always do, don't I, little doll..."

His voice drifts over you like smoke, thick and intoxicating, wrapping around you in a dizzying embrace. The intensity of the charm wavers slightly, granting you a momentary reprieve to catch your breath as Tom leans in, so close that you can feel his exhales caressing your lips. Your head spins, every sense overwhelmed by his presence.

"But you deserve this—" he continues, his voice a rumble like thunder through your veins. "—you deserve to be humiliated like this, to break for me without my hands ever touching you." His mouth hovers just millimeters from yours, taunting you with its nearness. "This is your punishment, little doll...and you're going to take it."

The pleasure between your thighs swells once more as the charm resumes its sinuous movements and you can't suppress the moan that escapes your lips, mingling with the groan of utter frustration. All you can do is stare at him.

Tom hums, amused. "Because you revel in it, don't you? Being a little disobedient brat..."

Your eyes glaze over, your pulse soaring as Tom's breath once again brushes against your parted lips. The ache for him is almost unbearable, as if he's injected something into your veins, rendering you unable to function without him. It's maddening, in the most exquisite way imaginable.

"You're-ohh-fuck.." your voice comes out as a moan, low and breathy, the words trailing off as the charm adds pressure to your clit, stars dancing at the edges of your vision. "Gods..."

"There we go, just as I like you,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing over your jaw. "Unable to unleash that pretty little mouth. Perfectly shattered for me."

You clench around nothing, yearning to scoff. "Mmmf—never..."

Tom chuckles at your feeble attempt at defiance, though the sound carries a hollow, half-hearted quality. You both know you've passed the point of return. His fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, until his palm cradles your face, his thumb brushing gently across your lips.

"Is that so?" He murmurs softly, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Well then, go ahead...let that pretty mouth run wild...prove that your defiance is more than just an act..."

The way he wields his power has you teetering on the brink of madness, and you despise the fact that you've revelled in every torturous moment of it. You long to snap back, to wield your tongue, to curse him—anything to grasp onto even a shred of control. But every fucking word is a struggle, every moment not focused on your breathing is an achievement.

You squeeze your eyes shut, channeling all the energy you have left. "You...you're such an...arrogant—mmf—I...I hate you..."

"Mhm. You hate me." He cooes. "And yet, here you are..." his voice is as soft as feathers, as warm as the morning sun, the unmistakable taunt laced within. His thumb presses against your bottom lip, slipping between your teeth. "...falling apart for a mere spell, begging for me, for my touch..."

You feel Tom's thumb pressing against your tongue as you whimper. You attempt to speak, to convey something, but instead, you find yourself instinctively sucking lightly against his thumb in response.

"Mm." Tom's brow lifts slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. He seems pleased with your reaction. "A much better use for that mouth."

You're beyond caring about the way he's taunting you, how he's systematically humiliated and debased you, stripping away every ounce of defiance without ever even touching your skin. Tremors wrack your body from the overwhelming sensations, rendering coherent thought nearly impossible.

Your head lolls to the side, constrained by his hand, as waves of pleasure crash over you, your climax approaching rapidly and dangerously.

"Fuck-I'm..." you manage to squeak, his thumb still nestled in your mouth. "Mmmf-"

Tom's eyes darken with satisfaction as he watches you unravel, his thumb pressing deeper into your mouth, a silent command for you to keep sucking. The enchantment continues its relentless assault—tightening around you, swirling over your clit and amplifying the pleasure until it's almost unbearable.

"Go on," he murmurs, his voice a blend of silk and steel. "Let go for me. Show me just how much you need this."

Your body trembles violently, your muscles tensing as the climax rips through you. You can't hold back the moan that escapes around his thumb, your entire being consumed by the intensity of the release that you've desperately fought off for so long. Tom's grip on your jaw tightens, keeping you in place, ensuring you can't escape the exquisite torment he's orchestrated.

"There it is," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Perfectly broken, just for me."

Your eyes are squeezed shut so tightly it's almost painful, his thumb buried in your mouth muffling any sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape. The evidence of your desire pools between your thighs, your embarrassment stripping you raw as you slowly begin to return to reality, the spell gradually losing its grip around you.

You struggle to find your breath, your thoughts, your sanity, but Tom doesn't grant you much reprieve before he's tugging your head back towards his, forcing you to focus on him.

"You should see yourself." He withdraws his thumb from your mouth, trailing the remnants of saliva over your cheek as he assesses you. "You're a vision."

You try to summon the strength to argue, to reclaim some semblance of defiance, but the attempt dies in your throat, unable to comprehend the fact that those words sounded like a fucking compliment. Your body is trembling with the aftershocks of your climax, and you can only manage a soft whimper. He looks at you as if you are his masterpiece, perfectly crafted and beautifully ruined.

"Remember this, little snake," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Remember how easily I can break you. How much you crave it."

You exhale slowly as you feel the charm dissipate, the carpet settling back into its rightful place at your feet. Tom's hand falls away from your face, but the tension between you remains palpable, neither of you daring to make a move.

"And as for the book," he adds, his eyes flashing to the bookshelf behind you, the one home to the Occlumency text you borrowed. "You may want to keep it. You're not nearly as skilled as you think you are."

And with that, he smooths out his uniform and strides past you without a second glance.

thank you to my babies @doremimosasol and @pizzaapeteer for proofreading this. means the world to me🖤

[rhiannonsknife]

could I put in a request for Lucy MacLean x Wasteland!reader? you both find shelter and you usually take first watch because you’re used to staying up late. Except Lucy has a habit of making your job harder than it has to be because she just starts yapping and won’t go to sleep right away. Take yesterday night for example, you underestimated her ability to run out of things to talk to you about and you lost about 2-3 hours of sleep because of it. Tonight, Lucy’s about 15 minutes into her yap session when you randomly ask her if she wants to have sex, she’s delighted at the idea and agrees. You wanna tire this woman out, what’s a more efficient method than giving her a few orgasms? (maybe even include this being Lucy’s first time being eaten out?)

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

— warnings: kind of inexperienced!lucy. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this took me a month to edit but here we are.

the shelter you’d stumbled upon earlier isn’t much. it’s hardly anything at all: half a roof, crumbling walls, and a faint musty smell.

still, it seemed better than sleeping under the open sky where god knows what could catch you off guard. so, you decide to settle yourself near the door, leaning against the wall with your weapon in easy reach. first watch, as always.

and, as always, lucy is making it harder than it needs to be.

she’s sprawled on her bedroll a few feet away, her head propped on her pack like a makeshift pillow. the dim glow of the dying embers between you throws flickering shadows across her face, as she talks.

“-and, i mean, who even puts that much trust in a filtration system, you know?” she says, her tone exasperated. “it’s like, sure, the overseers say it’ll last forever, but what happens when the pipes get clogged? no backup system, no-“

you pinch the bridge of your nose, cutting her off before she can spiral any further into whatever story she’s telling you from her life in vault 33. “lucy-“

“what?”

“i thought we agreed you’d try to sleep during my watch!”

“we did,” she says, shifting to rest on her elbows now . never a good sign. “but you’re awake anyway, so it’s not like i’m interrupting anything. besides, you’re terrible at keeping yourself entertained. i’m doing you a favor!”

you give her a flat look. “i don’t need ‘to be entertained’. i need quiet!”

lucy scoffs. “quiet seems overrated. besides, what if something sneaks up on you? you’ll want me awake to watch your back.”

“that’s literally my job right now,” you deadpan, gesturing toward what once was a door.

“okay, fair,” she says with a shrug. “but what if you fall asleep? then we’re both screwed!”

you let your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, staring at the cracked ceiling. “lucy, if i fall asleep, it’ll be because you spent all night talking about pipes and filtration systems instead of letting me do my job and i’ve bored myself to death!”

“i’m just saying, vault-tec could’ve planned better” lucy goes on after a short pause, like you’ve never asked her to stop at all. “like, one person on maintenance for an entire level? no wonder the water tasted weird that day!”

this has been your dynamic ever since you met her: lucy talking your ear off, filling the silence with anything and everything that comes to her mind.

“do you ever stop?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

“not really,” lucy says, grinning. “another thing,” she leans forward slightly. “i get why you’re all about this ‘quiet’ thing, but maybe you’d actually enjoy these little watch shifts if you talked more. or, you know, let me help you stay awake!”

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

“yeah,” she says. “like conversations, or games, or- i don’t know, literally anything but sitting there staring into the darkness like some broody protagonist in a bad holotape!”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, despite yourself.

she beams, triumphant, and leans back again, her hands clasped behind her head. “you’re welcome.”

the wasteland beyond the door feels vast and empty, the moonlight barely illuminating the cracked ground and jagged ruins. you focus on the shadows, your grip tightening slightly on your rifle. lucy’s voice continues behind you, her words blending into the ambient hum of the night.

another ten minutes of this pass, your patience wearing thinner with every syllable; your initial plan to just wait for her to get sleepy doesn’t seem to be working.

“if i had been in charge of the vault party planning committee, there’s no way they would’ve run out that fast” she’s currently recalling. “it’s simple logistics. one crate for every-“

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

“eventually,” she says with a shrug. “it’s not like i’m bothering you, right?”

you sigh, defeated. “you are absolutely bothering me,”

she ignores that completely, her tone turning thoughtful. “it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it? i talk, you listen, we bond. i mean, sure, you don’t say much, but that’s probably because you’re so fascinated by what i have to say-“

“lucy…”

“-which i get! not everyone grew up in a vault, so my perspective is pretty-“

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

you turn fully, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. “do you want to have sex?”

the words hang in the air for a beat, and for once, lucy falls completely silent. you watch as her face cycles through surprise, confusion, and delight in rapid succession.

“wait, what?” she asks, already sitting up. “do i- are you serious?”

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck. “you’re not gonna sleep, and you’re definitely not gonna let me do my thing. i figure if i wear you out, i might actually get some peace and quiet tonight,”

lucy blinks at you, and then, once you’re fairly sure she will turn the insane offer down, she grins.

you‘ve thought about it before. not about sex, necessarily, but tamer things: you found yourself staring at lucy in the rare moments when she wasn’t chatting away, eyes studying her features whenever she hadn’t been looking your way. you thought about kissing her, too, about her body against yours and-

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

you never figured out what vault dwellers like her learned about sex down there. only that, presumably, she does seem to know what you’re on about, judging by her enthusiasm.

“this is the best thing you’ve suggested so far,” she says, already tossing aside her blanket and crossing the small room to stand beside you.

lucy lingers above you for a moment, her eyes scanning over you as if weighing her next move. she takes her time. when she finally lowers herself into your lap, it’s with purpose, every movement measured. her weight presses into your thighs, grounding you in place, while her palms rest on your shoulders. lucy’s thumbs gently trace circles on your skin through your clothes as her eyes search yours.

to your surprise, you are the first to falter under her gaze, something lucy so clearly relishes. a satisfied glint flickers in her eyes just before her hands glide up, fingers curling around your jaw as she cups your face. without warning, she tilts your head back, guiding your gaze to hers again, brushing absently over the corner of your lips.

“don’t look away now,” she murmurs, a teasing rasp, her breath ghosting over your skin.

her thumb and forefinger catch your chin, holding it firmly as she hovers there, close, her lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak.

just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, lucy finally leans in.

her lips meet yours, soft at first, almost tentative, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction. she grazes the sides of your face, memorizing the feel of you beneath her touch. the kiss deepens quickly, the tension from earlier bleeding away into something much softer, more urgent.

her confidence only falters when she first tries to grind down against your pelvis, searching for a friction you cannot provide. you’re not sure what she had expected, or if she’s moving on instinct, but this is when it seems to sink in that lucy is in no position to fully take the lead here.

“are you a virgin?” you blurt at her puzzled expression.

“no!” lucy says, shaking her head. “no, it’s not- i got married remember…?” she grimaces, recalling the events that had followed her rather short lived ‘marriage’ in vault 33.

“okay, so…” you start. “what’s going on here, then?”

“i-” her gaze flicks between you and some point over your shoulder. her cheeks flush. “i just- well, you know, it’s not that different, right?”

“lucy…” your voice softens, even as you fight back a laugh. “do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“yes!” she says immediately, too quickly. then she hesitates. “well…sort of?”

you give her a look, and her face crumples into a sheepish grimace.“okay, fine, no,” lucy admits, throwing her hands up in defeat. “but i wasn’t going to say that out loud! i thought i could just…figure it out as we went.”

you sigh, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “you’ve been with someone before. why didn’t you-”

“because it’s different!” she interrupts, her voice rising again. “i mean, for one thing, he wasn’t…” she waves her hand vaguely in your direction, her words trailing off like she’s afraid to finish the thought.

“a woman?” you supply.

“yes, exactly,” lucy nods. then, as if to clarify: “not that that’s bad! it’s just- i don’t really know what i’m supposed to- how i’m supposed to…” her voice fades again, and she presses her lips together, clearly frustrated with herself.

“lucy,” you say gently, drawing her attention back to you. “it’s not something you’re supposed to just know. especially if…” you pause, hesitant to touch on something that might sting. “especially if it wasn’t…encouraged where you grew up,”

she frowns, her brows pulling together. “yeah, well, vault 33 wasn’t exactly a…bastion of sexual enlightenment! marriage, reproduction, carrying on the bloodline…i suppose it was always about the next generation, never about- this!”

lucy sighs.

“and, look,” her words come in a rush now, like she’s determined to explain everything before you can judge her. “it’s not like i have a problem with it! i mean, clearly, i don’t, because we’re, uh, doing…whatever this is. i just…i guess i thought it’d be easier to figure out!”

you reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. all your previous annoyance has melted away, replaced by a need to show her that this -sex- could be about so much more than just reproduction. “you don’t have to figure it out all at once, you know. we’ve got time!”

lucy’s gaze meets yours, hesitant but hopeful. “we do?”

“yeah,” you say softly, your fingers lingering against her cheek. “you don’t have to take the lead here, either. just…trust me, okay?”

“okay,” she says quietly. “okay, i trust you,”

“good,” you lean up, brushing your lips against hers, slow and careful. her shoulders relax immediately, and when she kisses you back, it’s sweeter than before: less frantic, more curious, like she’s letting herself feel everything for the first time.

you kiss her slowly at first, moving your lips in sync with lucy’s. she’s following your lead now, letting you set the pace of your mouths. she still seems as eager though, and when she starts moving her hips again, you’re prepared:

instead of your pelvis, you maneuver her so that she’s grinding on your thigh, finally giving her access to the friction she’d been searching for.

“o-oh-“ lucy mewls softly, her head lulling back as she ruts against you for a little while. you can feel the warmth radiating from between her legs already, damp through the fabric of her suit.

taking it off will be a risk, of course: stripping naked would make a quick escape damn near impossible. but you decide that, as you feel her arousal drag over your leg, lucy maclean is worth every risky decision that might come with it.

so, as she moves against you, as high-pitched moans start spilling from her throat, you reach for the zipper of the blue suit. it parts smoothly, the soft scraping of the interlocking metal echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

you look up at lucy, only vaguely aware of the white bralette that comes into view now that you’re unzipping her clothes.

you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by blatantly staring but the skin that’s revealed to you makes it impossibly hard. so, instead, you choose another way to show off your appreciation: without tearing your eyes from hers, you lean in and press your mouth to the flesh between her collarbones, then move lower.

lucy gasps, her lips parted and her brows slightly furrowed. it’s her who peels the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her arms, who lets it pool by her hips and reaches for you all over again. who urges you closer by the back of your head with one hand, while the other grabs the hem of her underwear.

“wow,” you gasp, dumbfounded when lucy -your lucy- tugs the bra upwards enough to free her bare chest from the restrictive fabric. she smiles, shyly, and tilts her head.

her nails sink into your shoulder the second your mouth closes around her nipple; she’s responsive there, more than you ever were, more than you thought she’d be. so responsive that lucy starts moving her hips more frantic when you roll her other nipple between your index and thumb.

and still…”more,” she whines softly, greedily, dragging her soaked center across your flexed muscle. “i want you to touch me,” she breathes. “please”

you trail slow, open mouthed kisses down her torso, your hands gliding over the curve of her back. you press lower, as far as you can reach, until your neck twists at an almost painful angle and lucy's hand finds the back of your head, cradling it gently.

that’s when you shift, moving her body so she’s leaning against the wall and you’re positioned between her spread legs.

lucy watches you through curious eyes, studying your every move as you get to kiss down her body more comfortably. you hold the eye contact, despite the need to stare at her chest (her nipples still hard and wet with your spit) until you have to pull the zipper lower and peel the fabric from her legs.

you slide it off and tuck it beneath her, allowing lucy to rest on it rather than the dirty floor, leaving her in a pair of panties matching the white bralette.

lucy’s body shudders as you kiss back up the expanse of her legs, the muscles in her thighs tensing. obviously, you don’t stop there: you crawl up further and further until you’re almost at the apex, reaching for the waistline of the underwear and-

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

“what-“ lucy stammers, unsure. “what are you doing?”

“i was gonna-“ you lick your lips, dropping your hands to her hips. of course lucy has no idea what you were going to do. “can i-“ you consider your words, unsure how to explain it so she’ll understand. “-put my mouth there?”

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

“please,” you whisper. “please, can i eat you out?”

lucy -her own want betraying her- whines, her hips jerking towards your mouth. from here, between her legs, you can see the wet patch of arousal that has soaked through her underwear.

“okay,” she pants, nodding frantically. “okay, yes. please!”

immediately, you reach out, hook your fingers underneath them and pull the panties down her thighs. you take your time making sure to securely place them in one of the suit’s pockets so they won’t get dirty, before finally turning your gaze back to lucy, who’s waiting in anticipation.

she lets you take in the sight with a nervous look on her face, biting the side of her index.

your fingertips absentmindedly trace the skin, watching the way lucy’s body parts for you. she is beautiful, endlessly beautiful, glistening with arousal, and framed by coarse hair.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve-“ she begins, but you immediately hush her.

“you’re beautiful,”

lucy inhales breathlessly, her fingers forming a v-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck-“ you mutter under your breath. lucy’s clit is throbbing.

slowly, you make your way up her thigh. in response, lucy buries her fingers in your hair, sighs softly as she invites you in, and spreads her legs wider.

you nudge her skin with your nose, nipping on the tender flesh.

the first time you put your mouth on lucy, her legs close around your head. her jaw goes slack and her brows furrow in concentration, adjusting to the new sensation.

you start with featherlight kisses to her swollen clit, each making her buck her hips against your face.

“o-oh!” lucy stammers from above, looking almost confused, surprised by how good your lips feel as they brush over her. “that feels so good,” she breathes finally, her body rolling down against your tongue.

“yeah?” you murmur, soothingly wrapping your arms around her thighs to hold her open as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.

“mhm,” lucy nods, but it comes out more like a whine at a particular good press of your lips. just as lucy buries her fingers in your hair, seemingly wanting to push you closer, you push her apart and lick a broad stroke right through her, getting your first actual taste.

instinctively, your eyes roll back, the lewd moan that rips from your throat drowned out by her skin.

“g-god-“ she stutters. “that’s- ah- good.”

unbeknownst to lucy, the sweet praise goes straight to your center. if you had a pillow, or anything useful around, you’d shove it between your legs and grind on it while you eat her out.

but, regardless of your own lack of relief, her words encourage you to lick deeper, to move faster inside of her and show her all that she’s been missing out on. you alternate between fucking your tongue into her, and wrapping your lips around her clit to suck on it, all while lucy pulls your closer, guiding your tongue to where she needs it the most.

you gladly let her, ignoring the occasional sting of your scalp at sharper tugs.

for a while, you eat lucy out like that, getting lost in each of her desperate attempts to stifle her sighs and her taste in your mouth. her words have morphed into muffled babbles above you, incoherent sounds of pleasure.

it doesn’t take long at all until she is getting closer: her head has lulled back against her bag, her moans come out more ragged and breathless, and the leg she has thrown over your shoulder trembles with tension as she pushes her heel down on your spine to urge you closer.

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

your lips close around her clit again, just as two of your fingers sink into her. squirming above you, lucy mindlessly grinds her hips to your face, aching for that release. she chants little ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds, her cunt tightening around your fingers so much it’s hard for you to thrust them in and out of her.

both your nose and your chin are covered in lucy’s wetness, glistening in the dimly lit space as her hands curl to fists in your hair.

“i feel…” she begins, trailing off. you’re not sure she knows what she’s feeling. or maybe she’s in disbelief because you only have your hands and mouth to use on her and still it’s enough.

either way, you encourage her, putting your thumb in place of your lips, rubbing her clit with the wet pad of your finger to keep her on the edge. “that’s it,” you mumble.

lucy chokes on her noise of approval and just nods her head instead. “yes,” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “yes, yes, yes! i’m gonna-“

that’s all of a warning you get before her whole body tenses. her lips are parted in a silent scream, her hips jerk forward once more before it all comes crashing down on lucy. the sound she makes is somewhat between a cry and a moan of your name and she arches her back from the ground when she cums.

you manage to tear your gaze away from her convulsing cunt to catch a glimpse of her, so lost in the haze of her pleasure: lucy’s eyes are shut tightly, her head thrown back so much that the entire expanse of her neck is on display for you.

her walls tighten around your fingers, trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place while she trembles with the force of the orgasm she’s riding out on you.

only when her body has stopped shaking, you lean back, not wanting to push her too far. she’s already given you more than enough.

“phew,” lucy says once she’s caught her breath. it’s so ridiculously lucy you have to bite back a laugh. “is it- is it always like this?” she asks by the time you’ve crawled back up her body and slumped down by her side.

you reach for her, not even thinking about it properly until you’re already cradling her face, your thumb grazing over her jaw soothingly. lucy doesn’t seem to mind.

“no,” you manage quietly, taking in her features in the dark. “no, it’s never been like this.”

luct turns her head to look at you, her expression open. she’s still flushed, her hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, and she’s smiling.

“i liked it,” she says, voice hushed. then, as if realizing how simple that sounds, she rushes to clarify: “not just because of- well, you know…but because it was you!”

you swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “yeah?”

lucy nods, shifting so she’s curled against your side, her fingers idly tracing patterns against your arm. “yeah.” a beat passes, then: “i think i wanna do that again. like…a lot.”

you laugh outright at that, tilting your head to press a kiss to her temple. “you really are something else, maclean.”

she hums, pleased, before shifting closer, tucking herself against you like she belongs there. you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until lucy is fast asleep in your arms.

[magic-shop-stories]

Hi! How are you doing? I hope you're doing fine! ✨️💜

I've read all your headcanons so I was hoping if you could accept my request. ✨️

They have been dating reader in secret but their relationship gets leaked (You decide how for each member) and it could be angst?

Thanks you for taking time on reading my ask and hopefully writing my request 💜

Have a nice day! ✨️

💌 Reply:

Hi there! 💜 Thanks so much for your kind message and for loving the headcanons! Absolutely adore this angsty request... I appreciate you sending this in, and hope you have the loveliest day too! ✨ - also I'm sorry for the late reply, but I hope its what you wanted and imagined 💜

-c-

BTS (OT7) x Reader Secret Relationship Leaked 

NAMJOON

-“Not all rainbows need an audience.”-

HOW IT LEAKED

starts with a demo track

Namjoon had been working on a solo project

= raw, unfiltered piece titled “Monochrome Rain” 

inspired by the quiet mornings he spent with you

= the way you’d trace constellations on his back while he scribbled lyrics

= the way your laughter harmonized with his piano’s minor keys

he accidentally uploads an unedited version to SoundCloud, in a sleep-deprived haze

track includes a voicemail snippet of you whispering:

“Come to bed, Joon-ah. The stars can wait.”

fans dissect it within minutes

metadata reveals the recording date

= a night BTS was supposedly in Tokyo

ARMYs cross-reference his old VLives

finding the exact moment he’d glanced offscreen, smile softening as if someone had called his name

hashtags trend: #NamsSecret, #WhoIsShe

by dawn, Dispatch has your name

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Stage Persona

at press conference for the new album, he’s asked about the leak

adjusts his glasses

CEO-like mask sliding into place

“Music is a diary. Some pages are meant to be read aloud; others… are written in ink that fades.” 

room erupts in chatter

he doesn’t flinch

Weverse

posts a photo of a stormy sky

captioned:

“Not all rainbows need an audience.” 

ARMYs debate if it’s a metaphor or a confession

Damage Control

lets Big Hit release a vague statement about “private matters."

insists on no lies

“I won’t call her a ‘friend.’ She’s… more.”

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

he’s in his studio

staring at the chaos of papers and half-empty coffee cups

when you walk in, he doesn’t turn around

“They’ll dissect you."

voice hollow

“Your childhood photos, your family, the way you pronounce ‘bibliophile’… They’ll say you’re why the album’s delayed.”

you reach for him

he pulls away

pacing like a caged animal

“I knew this would happen. I’m… I’m not safe. I’m a curse.” 

his voice cracks on the last word

suddenly he’s 19 again - rookie leader who apologized for existing (too loudly)

Breaking Point

at 4 a.m.

drags you to Namsan Tower

city lights blurring through his unshed tears

“I wanted to protect you."

rasps, gripping the railing until his knuckles bleach

“But I’m just… a man who loves too loudly in a world that demands whispers.”

you kiss his trembling hands

he collapses into you

he's muttering into your hair like a prayer

AFTERMATH

Professional Life

Album

releases “Monochrome Rain” as the title track

rewrites the bridge

new lyrics gut you: 

“Love, a language too heavy for my tongue / I bite the words, let them bruise my lungs.”

Interviews

when asked about the “mystery muse” he smirks

“Art thrives in shadows. But if you listen closely… she’s in every breath.”

Personal Life

New Rules

no more lazy Sundays at Han River

instead, he rents a secluded cabin under a fake name

“Kim Namjoon? Never heard of him”

buys a vintage typewriter to write you letters

unsigned

Guilt

starts therapy

scribbles in his journal

“How do I love her without devouring her?”

Quiet Rebellion

wears your scarf to the Grammy’s

tucked under his suit

lets it slip during his red-carpet twirl

quotes your favorite poet in his acceptance speech

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

Nightmares

wakes up gasping

clutching your wrist

“I dreamt they… they took you.” 

lets you hum “Moonchild” 

until his heartbeat steadies

Playlist

makes you a mixtape titled “For When the World Feels Heavy” 

filled with Mitski and Epik High

hides a voicemail at the end: 

“I’d burn it all down for you. Just say the word.”

Ritual

every anniversary, he plants a tree in your name

“Roots are the original secrets, they grow deeper when no one’s watching.”

JIN

-“My only partner is this mic! And Jungkook’s credit card.” -

HOW IT LEAKED

a stray sticker on his water bottle during a Weverse Live

a tiny cartoon heart you doodled as a joke

fans zoom in

reverse-image search it

trace it to your Instagram story from months ago

within hours, screenshots of your matching couple bracelets (yours engraved with “Worldwide Your Handsome”) flood forums

Dispatch digs deeper

= a blurred photo of Jin leaving your apartment at dawn, a bouquet of peonies in hand (your favorite, bought after a petty fight)

headline reads: “BTS’s Jin: Secret Romance with Non-Celebrity Partner Exposed!”

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Deflection with Humor

at a fan meeting, a fan shouts:

“Oppa, are you dating?!” 

Jin smirks

flexing

“Why? Are you proposing? Don’t make Worldwide Handsome choose!” 

crowd laughs

his grip tightens on the mic

VLive/Weverse Damage Control

hosts a mukbang

casually showing his bare wrists

“Bracelets? Too flashy! I’m a simple man... just give me kimchi and WiFi.” 

fans notice his pinky ring

= yours, borrowed and never returned

he waves it off

“Family heirloom. My grandma’s ghost will haunt you if you ask again!”

Company Statement

BigHit issues a vague denial

Jin insists on adding more

“Please respect my personal life. I’m still the same guy who forgets to water his plants!”

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

Night of the Leak

cancels your dinner date

citing “group stuff"

you find him at 1 a.m. in the kitchen

stress-baking songpyeon with twice the usual sugar. 

"It’s okay...” (you)

slams the rolling pin down

“It’s not.” 

his voice cracks

“They’re calling you a gold-digger. A distraction. I should’ve… I should’ve been smarter.”

Breaking Point

avoids you for three days

throwing himself into rehearsals

on the fourth night, he shows up at your door

hair messy

holding a Budae-jjigae pot

“I couldn’t sleep...”

mumbles

“Kept thinking… what if they hurt you? What if I’m not enough to protect you?” 

you hug him

he clings like you’re the last life raft on the Titanic

AFTERMATH

Professional Life

Fan Interactions

starts ending lives with:

“Love yourself! And… maybe don’t stalk your bias’s water bottles?” 

ARMYs laugh

tho the subtext stings

Variety Shows

hosts tease him about dating?

he leans into the joke

“My only partner is this mic! And Jungkook’s credit card.” 

later texts you: 

“Miss you. Will make it up to you with jajangmyeon.”

Personal Life

New Rules

no more public dates

rents a private karaoke room weekly

dedicating “Epiphany” to you off-key

“You’re my real audience" 

he grins, cheeks flushed with soju and sincerity

Guilty Pleasures

sneaks your photo into his selcas

hidden in phone case reflections

“Inside joke, with myself. Because I’m hilarious.”

Quiet Rebellion

Gaming Nights

livestreams under a fake account (“EatJin_SecretSnack”)

teaming up with you

“Noob_Queen? Just… a fan. A very talented fan.”

Food Wars

brings you to his favourite’ restaurants, introducing you as “my taste-tester”

chef friends side-eye him

"Seokjin-ah, why is she wearing your jacket?” 

he chokes on kimchi

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

Notes

slips handwritten jokes into your bag

“Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was out-standing in his field… just like you.” 

signed: “Your (secret) Worldwide Handsome.”

Protectiveness

buys you a panic button disguised as a keychain

“For my peace of mind. And don’t lose it... it’s Gucci!” 

Vulnerability

falls asleep on your lap after concerts

murmuring

“Jin tired. Just… let me stay here, okay?”

YOONGI

-“My music speaks for itself. If you’re looking for gossip, you’re in the wrong room.”-

HOW IT LEAKED

a producer’s slipup

Yoongi had been collaborating on a track for an indie artist

during a late-night studio session, he’d left his phone unlocked

voice memo plays accidentally over the speakers

= your voice, soft and sleep-heavy, murmuring

“Yoongi-ya, come to bed. You’ve been at it for hours.” 

other producer, thinks it’s part of the song

includes the clip as an “authentic, intimate vibe.”

track drops

fans dissect it instantly

within hours, the audio snippet is isolated

looped, and compared to your voice from an old YouTube video where you reviewed his mixtape

hashtags like #WhoIsSUGAsMuse and #AgustDGF trend

Dispatch digs up a grainy photo of you two from a year ago

= Yoongi’s hand brushing yours under a café table

his face unreadable

his thumb tracing your knuckles

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Cold Silence

ignores all questions

at a press conference, when asked about the “mystery woman,” he stares the reporter down

“My music speaks for itself. If you’re looking for gossip, you’re in the wrong room.”

Defiance

releases a remix of the track a week later

your voice amplified and distorted into a haunting echo

title? “No Comment.”

ARMY’s Clues

notices he starts wearing a black ring on his right hand

a subtle symbol

fans debate if it’s a coincidence or a middle finger to speculation

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

he’s in his studio

jaw clenched

deleting hundreds of hate comments aimed at you

when you walk in, he doesn’t look up

“You should leave."

mutters, voice gravelly

“I’ll call you a cab. Don’t… don’t come here for a while.”

you freeze

“Yoongi, we knew this could...”

he snaps

slamming his fist on the desk

“I told you I’d ruin it. I’m not... I’m not built for this.” 

his anger cracks

revealing the fear beneath

“They’ll eat you alive. And I’ll just… sit here. Useless.”

Breaking Point

disappears for two days

you find him in Daegu

in the tiny studio he built in his parents’ garage

walls are covered in scribbled lyrics

half of them about you

he’s asleep at his desk

head pillowed on a notebook open to a page titled “Ways to Disappear.”

when he wakes, he doesn’t apologize

just hands you a cup of instant coffee 

“I’m not good at this. But I’m not letting go.”

AFTERMATH

Professional Life

Music

writes a diss track aimed at the producer who leaked the clip

“You want a story? Here’s one about betrayal and bitch-made moves.” 

buried in the second verse is a line only you understand fully

“Her voice is my compass... you just noise.”

Interviews

when probed about “romance” he deadpans

“I’m married to my work. But my work has trust issues.”

Personal Life

New Rules

no more midnight walks

installs blackout curtains and soundproofing in ALL rooms

“Our world starts here” 

nodding to the tiny couch where you now sleep most nights

Guilt

starts donating anonymously to anti-paparazzi charities

when you ask why, he grumbles

“Tax write-offs.”

Quiet Rebellion

learns ASL to communicate with you during events

“Love you” 

signs it under the table at the MAMAs

eyes locked on the stage like he’s bored

writes your name in tiny Hangul letters inside his Grammy trophy

“So they’ll never know who I’m thanking.”

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

Nightmares

wakes up in a cold sweat

clutching the collar of your shirt

“Dreamt they… found you. Took you.” 

lets you play his own “First Love” on the piano until he stops shaking

Playlist

makes you a mixtape titled “For the Bad Days” 

filled with angry rap and a single hidden track

= a lullaby he hummed into his phone at 4 a.m.

Ritual

every month, he buys a new plant for your apartment

“They’re quieter than people."

names them after lyrics he’ll never release

J-HOPE

-“Love… is the reason I dance.”-

HOW IT LEAKED

a moment of unguarded tenderness

happens during a live dance practice stream

Hobi pauses to adjust the camera angle

“Gotta make sure they don’t see...” 

before cutting himself off

but the mic picks up your voice offscreen

teasing

“Hobi-ya, your shirt’s inside out… again.”

clip goes viral

dissected for its intimacy

= the way his shoulders relax at your voice, the fond exasperation in your tone

fans stitch it with old content

= you wearing his hoodie in a 2018 Vlog, him slipping you a candy during a concert rehearsal.

by midnight, #Hope’sSecret trends globally

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Mask

at the next fansign, he cranks his sunshine dial to 200%

laughs off questions

“You know I’m married to dance, right?” 

his smile strains at the edges

posts a mirror selfie captioned “Alone but not lonely 💜”

a lie so glaring it aches

Damage Control

volunteers for extra schedules

flooding social media with dance covers

ARMYs praise his “relentless positivity”

you see the desperation beneath it

- he’s trying to outrun the storm-

Interview That Breaks Him

reporter asks him:

“Is love a distraction from your art?” 

Hobi’s smile falters

“Love… is the reason I dance.”

clip trends again with edits of him glancing offstage (as if searching for someone)

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

cancels your anniversary dinner

you find him in the practice room

shirt drenched

dancing to “Blue Side” on repeat

when you call his name, he whirls around

eyes wild

“Why did I... Why did I let myself need you?” 

his voice cracks

“I’m supposed to be… strong.”

Breaking Point

avoids you for days

then shows up at your door at 3 a.m.

trembling

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I keep... I keep ruining things.”

collapses into your arms

repeating “I’m sorry” like a mantra

= as if guilt could be scrubbed clean by confession

Fear

confesses in whispers

“When I was a trainee, they told me joy was my only currency. What if… what if they decide I’m bankrupt?”

AFTERMATH

Professional Life:

The Choreography: Creates a solo piece titled “Eclipse.” It’s all sharp angles and abrupt silences, his body folding inward like a flower denied light. Fans call it his “most raw work yet.” Only you know it’s about the nights he cried in your lap.

The Lie: Refers to you as his “cousin” in interviews. Laughs too loud, adds, “We’re super close!” The first time he says it, he vomits afterward.

Personal Life:

New Rules: No more public dates. Instead, he rents a secluded dance studio under a fake name. Teaches you choreography at 2 a.m., his hands lingering on your waist like a secret.

Guilt: Buys you endless gifts—designer bags, rare vinyls, a necklace with a hidden sun pendant. “You deserve everything,” he says, as if materialism could offset the loneliness.

The Quiet Rebellion:

Wears mismatched socks to rehearsals—your inside joke. When teased, he grins. “Fashion is chaos, right?”

Slips your initials into his next album credits under “Special Thanks to My Sunrise.” ARMYs assume it’s a metaphor.

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

The Ritual: Every morning, he texts you a sunrise photo. No words—just light. On bad days, he sends two.

The Playlist: Creates a secret SoundCloud titled “For Her.” Filled with jazz covers of BTS songs, slowed down and soulful. The bio reads: “Love is a dance no one else hears.”

The Tattoo: Gets a tiny sun behind his ear. “So even when I’m performing… you’re with me.”

JIMIN

-“If I had someone… I’d want to protect them. Even from me.”-

HOW IT LEAKED

a humid night in Seoul

Jimin’s live stream starts innocently enough

cozy, post-concert wind-down where he’s draped in a oversized sweater

hair damp from the shower

answering fan questions with sleepy charm

exhaustion makes him reckless

when a comment asks: “What’s your ideal date? 💜” 

he smiles absently

gaze drifting offscreen to where you’re curled on the couch

“Hmm… Rainy mornings. Someone who steals my hoodies. And… dancing in the kitchen at 2 a.m.” 

his voice softens

a secret slipping through

“Especially if they’re terrible at it.”

you laugh, unaware the mic catches it

a bright, familiar sound that ARMYs recognize from a cameo months ago

clip goes viral within hours

“WHO IS SHE?” 

next morning, a blurry paparazzi photo of Jimin’s hand brushing yours under a café table floods forums

your linked pinkies labeled: “Proof.”

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Mask

next fan sign, he’s all dimples and sparkles

laughing off questions

“Dancing in the kitchen? I was just… describing a drama plot!”

tho his smile doesn’t crinkle his eyes

he signs an album with “Love is patient” 

Social Media

posts a mirror selfie half shirtless

captioned: “Focus on the gains, not the rumors 💪🔥.” 

comments explode with “He’s deflecting!!” and “Protect him!!”

Stage Persona

at concert, he performs “Filter” with razor-sharp precision

hips snapping like he’s punishing the world for looking too close

during the ment, he whispers:

“Love… is a mirror. Sometimes it’s kinder to look away.”

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

cancels your date

citing “schedule conflicts”

then shows up at your door at 3 a.m.

eyes red-rimmed and hair tangled

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” 

he chokes

collapsing into your arms

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… ”

fists his hands in your shirt

voice breaking

“They’ll hate you. They’ll say I’m yours and... and that’s dangerous.”

Guilt

avoids touchfor days

flinching when you reach for him

practices until his feet bleed

screaming at mirrors

“Control it. Control.”

when you bandage his blisters, he sobs

“Why won’t you leave? I’m ruining you.”

Turning Point

you find him in the studio

slumped over the piano

playing a mangled version of “Promise” 

he freezes when you enter

“I rewrote this for you” 

he whispers

“But now it’s… a cage.” 

you sit beside him

pressing a melody into the keys

= your song

the one he hummed while making breakfast

he crumbles

“I’m scared...” 

admits it, forehead against yours

“But I’m more scared of losing us.”

AFTERMATH

Professional Life

Comeback

releases a new solo track - “Veil” 

with lyrics about “hands that fit too perfectly to hide” 

dances with a blindfold during the choreo

fingers brushing empty air where you’d stand

Interviews

when asked about dating, he tilts his head, coy

“If I had someone… I’d want to protect them. Even from me.”

Personal Life

New Rules

no more public cafes

instead, he rents out entire movie theaters under fake names (“Mr. Park and… Mrs. Pancakes?”)

learns to cook your favorite dishes so you never have to risk takeout

Quiet Defiance

starts wearing your ring on a chain under his stage outfits

lets it slip during a jacket adjustment

smirk daring the cameras to notice

Healing

therapy

journals: “Love isn’t a sin. Fear is.”

takes you to Busan

introduces you to his parents as “my peace” 

his mom cries

his dad hugs you, asing how you like your coffee 

“You better deserve him��� 

but slips you extra cake

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

Nightmares

wakes up gasping

clutching your wrist

“I dreamt they… they took you.” 

lets you hum “Serendipity” until his heartbeat steadies

Playlist

makes you a mixtape titled “For When the World Feels Heavy” 

filled with H.E.R. and old Bolero covers

hides a voicemail at the end

“I’d burn it all down for you. Just say the word.”

Ritual

every month, he lights a candle and deletes one hate comment aloud

“Your words don’t own us.”

TAEHYUNG

-“I wanted the world to see you like I do… but not like this.”-

HOW IT LEAKED

a photograph on his private blog

one he never meant to share

Taehyung had been curating a series titled “Light in the Cracks”

= glimpses of his world through fractured mirrors and sunlit dust

one image stands out

= a shadowy silhouette of you dancing in an empty studio

backlit by golden hour

your figure blurred but unmistakable to anyone who knows you

caption reads: “My favorite kind of magic: the unseen.”

fans zoom in

your necklace is a tiny moonstone pendant he gifted you on your first anniversary

matches the one in his latest live

ARMYs stitch timelines

tracing your shared glances at concerts

the way he’d hum “Sweet Night” when you entered a room

by midnight, your Instagram is flooded with comments

“Is this V’s muse?”

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Artist’s Gambit

doesn’t delete the photo

he posts a follow-up

= a close-up of wilting roses

captioned:  “Beauty is fragile. Handle with care.” 

fans dissect it as a plea for privacy

Press Play

at a movie premiere, reporters ambush him

“Is love your new inspiration?” 

he smirks

adjusting his beret

“Love is always my inspiration. Next question.”

Social Media Silence

archives all personal posts except the roses

changes his bio to “Guardian of galaxies.”

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

he is in his darkroom

red light casting shadows as he develops film

when you find him, his hands are stained with chemicals

trembling

“I’m sorry...” 

whispers, voice raw

“I wanted the world to see you like I do… but not like this.”

shows you a contact sheet of stolen moments

= your laugh caught mid-frame, your hand curled around his wrist, a tear he kissed away

“These were just for us, now they’re… theirs.”

Breaking Point

3 a.m.

he drives you to Daegu

speeding through backroads until you reach his gradparents old farm

sits you under a persimmon tree where he wrote his first song

“Hyung once told me love is a secret you plant."

murmurs

dirt under his nails as he digs a hole

buries a film canister of your photos

“Let’s grow it here. Where no one can dig it up.”

AFTERMATH

Professional Life

Artistic Rebellion

next photography exhibit features distorted self-portraits

= mirrors shattered and rearranged

he centerpiece?

= a single rose encased in glass

titled “Unreachable.” 

critics call it “melancholic genius.”

ARMYs know better

Music Clues

releases a jazz cover of “Someone Like You” 

with modified lyrics

“Don’t forget me, I beg… but forget the world.”

Personal Life

New Rituals

learns calligraphy to write you letters in Daegu satoori

sealed with wax stamps

signs them in red ink

Guilt & Protection

hires a bodyguard for you

then fires them when you protest

“Fine. Then I’ll protect you myself.” 

starts taking Krav Maga

“For art."

Defiant Love

wears a silver ring on his thumb

your initials etched inside

lets it “accidentally” face the camera during a fansign

quotes Pablo Neruda in a Weverse reply

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

Midnight Piano

plays “Winter Bear” on loop when he’s anxious

fingers stumbling until you sit beside him

 “You’re my melody...”

mumbles

resting his head on your shoulder

Sketchbook

fills pages with your eyes

...“the left one’s brighter when you lie”

hides it under his bed

lets you find it with a sticky note

“For your eyes only.”

Code

develops a tap system for crowded events

three squeezes = “I love you” 

two = “Let’s run” 

uses both excessively

JUNGKOOK

-“You said… you wanted normal. And I… I couldn’t even give you that.”-

HOW IT LEAKED

happens during a live

Jungkook, half-shirtless and sweaty post-workout

rambles about his gym routine

you call out from the kitchen

“Kookie, did you eat the last mandu?!” 

he freezes mid-flex

eyes widening like a deer in headlights

live cuts off abruptly

but not before 2 million ARMYs hear his panicked: “Uh… no?” and your laughter

fans dissect the clip frame by frame

someone enhances the background noise

isolating your voice from a BTS fanmeet Q&A three years prior

by midnight, your Instagram is flooded with side-by-side comparisons of your hands

visible in an old VLOG and the “mystery girl” in his live

HIS PUBLIC REACTION

Silence

Jungkook ghosts social media for 72 hours

unprecedented for the man who once posted 10 gym selfies just a few days before

Deflection

returns with a thirst trap video captioned “Focus on your gains, not my snacks.” 

comments are disabled

Protective Fury

when a paparazzi shoves a mic in your face, he snarls

“Touch her again and I’ll end you” 

voice so low it trends as “Demon Jungkook.”

HIS PRIVATE REACTION

Immediate Aftermath

he’s a mess

you find him in the gym at 3 a.m.

punching a bag until his knuckles split

“I ruined it.”

chokes, sweat and tears mixing on his face

“You said… you wanted normal. And I… I couldn’t even give you that.”

Breaking Point

that night, he crawls into your bed

shaking

“I’ll quit."

whispers

“Fuck the fame. Let’s move to Jeju. I’ll fish. You’ll… sell seaweed. We’ll be nobodies.” 

you laugh

he’s dead serious.

Guilt & Growt

buys burner phones

creates coded playlists (“Strawberry Milk” = I miss you; "Banana Milk" = I love you)

forces himself to watch the leaked clip 100 times

“To remember how stupid I was.”

AFTERMATH

Professional Life

Music

releases a solo track

“Seven (Silent Nights)” 

lyrics about “loving in the dark, counting heartbeats instead of stars.” 

ARMYs sob

you know it’s about the nights he held you

terrified of dawn

Interviews

when asked about “dating rumors” he just smirks

“I date my dumbbells. They’re very loyal.”

his knee presses against yours under the table later

Personal Life

New Rules

learns to cook mandu from scratch and YouTube tutorials

leaves them on your pillow with Post-its

“Proof I’m learning.”

Symbolic Gestures

gets a tattoo of your initials under his ribcage

“So even if they take everything, you’re here.”

LITTLE THINGS ONLY YOU SEE

Nightmares

wakes up clawing at his chest

convinced your initials vanished

makes you trace them with your finger

until his breathing steadies

Chaos

drags you to Namsan Tower at 4 a.m.

both of you in disguises

“We’re tourists! From… Canada!”

Softness

whispers “I’m sorry” into your skin every time he kisses you

= a mantra, a prayer, a promise

[ruesol]

catalyst - chapter 8

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex. (sukuna x reader)

tags and cw: mentions of blood and violence, shower sex

fanfic masterlist

With a one-track mind, Sukuna focuses on nothing but his training regime for his final fight.

After meeting Yaga that day, Sukuna discovered that his final opponent was the same man he had lost to months ago–Geto Suguru, a force to be reckoned with in the world of contact sports. Unlike Gojo, the man had received professional training to be a boxer since he turned seventeen. His determination was nothing short of Sukuna’s, so the match would be interesting to watch.

Of course, one of the most critical things Yaga mentioned in his training regime plan was that Sukuna was not to have any distractions till the day of the match, which included you.

It was frustrating, to say the least. You two had just gotten back together, only to be pulled apart again. However, it was for good reason. What’s the harm in paying a temporary price for a lifetime of bliss? So you moved out of his apartment and found another place courtesy of Uraume’s help. You decided to shadow Sukuna’s doctor in the three months he spent training to get some references and make do with your time productively. If you were going to apply for med school soon, you had to be prepared right away.

And before you knew it, the night before the match had arrived.

You didn’t want to feel nervous, considering that you had already watched some of Sukuna’s matches online, but something in the back of your mind kept the fear alive. Seeing him hurt, even with necessity of his career, was still painful, but all you could do was support him. At least, this was the last time it would happen.

With a sigh, you get your clothes ready for the next day. You had promised Yaga you wouldn’t meet Sukuna till the night of the match, and more preferably after he’s hopefully won it.

Sleep evaded you with every passing thought, goosebumps, heart palpitations, and cold sweats–you were experiencing everything the night before match day. You could only feel nauseous imagining what your state was going to be like the next day.

Your hand itches to text Sukuna, but you know better than to ruin his sleep for his fight.

That is until your phone begins to ring with his name flashing on the screen.

You pick it up without thinking twice. It’s been way too long since you’ve last talked to him. “Hey.”

“Hi.” There’s not a lick of exhaustion in his voice. He sounds rather rejuvenated for someone who was going to put an end to his ever-growing career the next day.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. It’s strange how Sukuna’s mere presence on the other side of the line rids you of your anxiety. He’s real, he’s safe.

“Honestly, no. I…I miss you. Very much. And I’m kind of standing outside your apartment right now,” he answers frankly.

You rush to your apartment window, and lo and behold, his truck is standing right outside with him leaning against the door, phone in one hand while the other is tucked beneath his elbow. Even though you live on the seventh floor, you feel like you can see the glint in his eyes when he spots you waving at him through your window.

“Want me to come down there?” you ask eagerly, wanting to be in your boyfriend’s embrace as quickly as possible.

“Nah, I’ll be right up. Give me a minute,” he chuckles at your enthusiasm before hanging up.

The time that passes as you wait for Sukuna couldn’t be any longer. You’re basically vibrating in your seat when you hear someone knock on your front door and rush to it.

Before Sukuna can say anything, you push yourself into his arms before pulling him into your apartment. You immediately notice just how much harder his muscles have gotten from training for the fight. His pecs are more prominent, and there’s a lot more bulk on his body overall. His tattoos only accentuate his new muscles, curving over the swollen, sinewy mass.

“Woah, easy there,” he grins as he strokes down your back, hand squeezing your waist before settling on its curve.

“I can’t help myself,” you whine into his chest. “It’s been three excruciating months without you.”

“Really? I can’t say the same for myself, though,” he teases.

“You’re the one who came here at eleven in the night, Sukuna Ryomen.”

He sighs. He can never win with you. He holds you tight, squeezing you with all the strength he has in one hand. You memorize what every inch of him feels like on your body–how his waist feels thick as your hands barely wrap around them, how his body basically encompasses yours with no effort and the way his sharp chin digs into your scalp.

“To be honest, I’m here to request something,” he murmurs into your hair, deeply inhaling your scalp before pulling away. Confused, you cock a brow when you notice his other hand is holding his boxing gloves.

“What? You wanna have a practice match?” you ask, scoffing at him.

Sukuna clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I’m here to get some good luck for tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen as your mind reaches what he could possibly be implying, but he chuckles before the words can escape your mouth. “Not like that. I want you to kiss my gloves for me,” he demands as he pushes the boxing gloves to your mouth.

“You came all the way here for me to kiss your gloves?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah. Well, that and my lips–if you’re feeling generous.” a flirtatious smirk displays itself across his face, tattoos stretching upwards.

“It’s your lucky day because I am indeed feeling generous.” You take the gloves from his hold and kiss each of them as you peer up at him through your lashes. Sukuna’s facial expression is a dichotomy–a heady and heavy gaze trailing down your face and a lovesick smile growing on his lips.

“Maybe you could also get on your knees since you’re being so nice,” he teases as his hands stroke up your spine. You gasp and push his gloves back in his hand, and he chuckles as you push him towards the door.

“Sukuna Ryomen, you have a retirement match tomorrow. You need to rest.” You bashfully look away from the intense eye contact. For the first time in ages, his red eyes are burning with longing instead of fury. “And come here,” you lean up to him and leave a light peck on his lips. “I forgot to do that.”

Sukuna can only stare with a dark gaze. His hands pull you in for one last hug, rough and calloused hands situated on the small of your back. “Promise me that you’ll celebrate with me tomorrow,” he whispers before pulling away.

“Of course, I will,” you giggle. “Yuuji’s throwing you a retirement party after all.”

Sukuna’s tongue swipes the inside of his cheek before he kisses your forehead. “Yeah, that too,” he says as he walks away.

“Wait, what?” you ask, peering out your apartment’s door as your boyfriend walks to the elevator.

“Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep,” he says before the door of the elevator shuts and he disappears.

Only when you close your door and head to bed do you realize what he meant.

Oh.

—

You can feel the bass of the metal music playing on the loudspeakers in your chest, dull thumps and electric guitar riff vibrations strumming in your veins. You follow Yaga to the seat that’s directly by the rings—the VIP zone.

It’s your first time in a boxing arena, not that you’d ever been to any kind of sporting event before, especially with how busy you were with your studies.

To no surprise, there were mostly men around you. Some slightly inebriated, others purely jittering in their seats because of the anticipation of watching two monsters battle out their strengths in the ring. Sukuna was a lot more popular than you had expected, with many people cheering for him even before the match began.

“You should’ve seen the insanity before he took his hiatus. People used to camp outside the back entrance of the arena just to see him,” Uraume told you as they smirked at your amazed expression.

“He’s well-loved,” is all you say. His motive to become a boxer will never be drowned out by the screams and chants of his fans. The dehumanization and trauma wasn’t worth the fame.

You were happy that he was making a major decision for himself for the first time in a long while.

The lights around the audience soon dim down, only bright spotlights illuminating the stage. The music changes to a trap mix specifically curated for the behemoth that was about to enter the stage via the ramp.

The crowd goes silent as the large screen above the walkway begins highlighting some of Sukuna’s greatest fight moments and then it ultimately ends with a slow motion shot of his loss in his last match. But the crowd erupts in cheers when the smoke machines create a heavy fog around his entrance.

Your lover’s stalk is that of a warrior, his shoulders are broad as his silken red kimono faintly outlines his pecks. The camera pans around his face but he doesn’t pay it any heed, only looking around the arena, lifting his boxing gloves and kissing it right on the spot you did the night before.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him thinking about you even during such a tense moment. His eyes don’t search for you, but you know you’re the only one on his mind with the way his lips linger on the leather. You don’t expect your thighs to involuntarily squeeze to ease the ache between them when Sukuna shrugs off his robe, showing off his slick and muscled body.

“Petroleum jelly. So he doesn’t get cuts from punches,” the ever so observant Uraume says into your ear.

Geto’s entrance is nothing short of dramatic. In contrast to Sukuna’s rather simple yet bold tattoos, Geto sports complex dragons on his back that imitate yakuza tattoos. You notice a lone snake tattoo that slithers around his leg, reaching all the way to his mid thigh.

The man was beautiful, but despite his features, he looked like a deadly fighter.

Your heart beat matches the wavelength of the match’s intensity. Slow at first, but quickening with how fast and agile the attacks were getting. So far, Sukuna had been holding up well, dodging Geto, and conserving his energy to charge up a powerful punch to the opponent’s side.

Your blood roars in your ears as Sukuna suddenly takes a mean punch to his face, an angry red bruise slowly growing on his cheekbone as the two men skirt around each other, mentally examining their next moves.

“He’s doing…very well. Compared to last time, he has a lot more energy.” Uraume sounds very surprised. You don’t have a lot to compare him with, and watching boxing fights in person was way more different than simply watching compilations online, so you took Uraume’s word for it.

By the time the first interval rolls around, Sukuna is already spitting out a ton of blood after taking out his mouth guard. You wince as you notice that it resembles nothing of its former transparency, the object now completely covered in a viscous emulsion of saliva and blood.

You nearly jump out of your seat to go comfort him but Yaga nearly slams you back down as he grabs onto your forearm.

“He needs to focus right now,” the boxing coach instructs. Your eyebrows furrow at the command as you look over at your boyfriend who is already staring at you through half-lidded eyes, mouth ajar as he’s too tired to support his muscles.

“He looks like shit, I have to see him!” you beg, but Yaga only shakes his head and walks away. Yuuji, who had arrived a little later than you for the match, comforts you instead of walking over to his brother.

“You have to trust him. Sukuna’s heart is soft and he’ll stop the second you ask him to. Coach wants him to leave with dignity—something Sukuna had planned for.”

Yuuji’s words provide some sort of closure, but your heart still couldn’t take to ignore your lover so you send a discreet flying kiss to him. Sukuna sends a lazy smile your way and winks.

“Ugh, even now?” Yuuji playfully groans and you punch his bicep.

“So what?” you cheekily reply, still staring at Sukuna, who was now rolling out the tension in his shoulders, back muscles ripping with every movement. He fits a clean mouthguard onto his teeth, ready to take on his opponent with the strength given to him by his girlfriend’s support.

—

Sukuna would sometimes tell you about how he’d feel while fighting. Bruises and cuts were the least of his worries when it came to the sport because what really affected him was the post-match adrenaline.

Like a runner’s high, Sukuna expressed that his brain gets some kind of fucked up gratification every time he’s able to land a critical hit on his opponent. And by the time the match ends, he feels like a killing machine, ready to take on whatever victim lands his fancy next.

Which is why you felt like a fawn being watched by a wolf as you stared back at him in the ring. The referee holds his hand up high, yelling out that Sukuna Ryomen was the victor of the match. The two men’s sizes differ greatly, making Sukuna seem even more of a monster than he is—a tank of blood and muscle drawing in the eyes of every spectator in the room.

Geto’s existence is forgotten as soon as the medics lift him onto a stretcher and scurry out. Sukuna Ryomen had not spared his opponent of his wrath.

“What a comeback!” A fan in one of the VIP seats yells. Oh if he only knew.

The gaudy gold victory belt makes its appearance but Sukuna still does not look away from you as his fans scream for him. His gaze grows headier with every passing second, like he’s itching to push off the people around him and drag you back with him.

Uraume nudges you to let you know that it’s time to go backstage. “Let’s go.”

You gulp for what may be coming when you notice Sukuna’s gaze following you as you walk out the arena with his manager, ignoring the cameras that were being shoved in his face.

—

By the team Sukuna comes to his personal locker room, he looks even more exhausted than he did while fighting Geto. A look that differed from the hungry one he had earlier.

“Bro, you did great!” Yuuji is quick to punch Sukuna’s bicep, but the older brother is too tired to play into his antics.

“Thanks, Yu,” Sukuna mumbled as he took a swig of iced Gatorade.

Yaga and Uraume try to make conversation with the champion, but he raises his hand to stop them. “Can I get some time alone? I’m tired as fuck and just don’t wanna talk right now.”

Taken aback, you trail behind Sukuna’s coach, manager, and brother, but are stopped when he grabs your wrist.

“We need to talk,” he says.

“You’re being redundant. You just said you didn’t wanna have any kind of conversation,” you quip. Unlike you, Uraume, Yaga, and Yuuji take the hint, chuckling to themselves as they leave.

Sukuna runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek as a smile slowly grows on his face. “I thought you’d know by now that you’re an exception.”

“Right,” you scoff, looking away. You’re try to pull your hand out of his grasp but his grip is taut. He pulls you to him, your smaller body bumping into his larger one, and he hisses at the impact. The bruises are still fresh but they don’t stop him from pressing himself flat against you and devouring your mouth.

You gasp as the taste of lime Gatorade and blood invades your mouth, his tongue sloppily prodding through your lips. His hands immediately situate themselves on your ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pushes you into the shower and traps you against the cold, tiled walls.

Your hands can’t really go anywhere except for around his shoulders, and even when you try to wrap them around him, your fingers barely meet, only your forefingers latching around the base of his neck.

“You’ve gotten so big.” You’re not sure if it’s a complaint or a compliment because, on the one hand, it’s almost mind-numbing to think about how he could just drag you around with a single arm, and on the other, you can barely hold on to him without feeling like you’re rubbing up against a behemoth.

With his eyes closed and mouth sloppily kissing yours, his hands lift from your ass and move around, trying to look for something.

“What are you—“

You interrupt yourself with a shriek when ice-cold water hits your skin, making your white t-shirt stick to your body, nipples hard and visible even through your bralette. Your skirt outlines your thighs and Sukuna flips you around so your ass is pressed to his covered hardness. He pushes your hair and flattens his tongue against the column of your neck to lick to the area below your ear.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mumbles on your skin before sucking at the spot. Sukuna notices the way you shiver and he turns up the temperature—at this point you can’t tell if your skin is warming up at the feeling of Sukuna’s clothed cock between your ass cheeks or the hot water.

Sukuna slides his hands up your waist, under your wet t-shirt and lifts it over your head, throwing it outside the cubicle. The t-shirt lands with a wet splat to the ground, now looking like a tiny drenched rag. If you weren’t drunk off of Sukuna’s dry-humping, you’d be worrying about what you’d wear when you’d be leaving the locker room.

He nearly rips off of your bralette when your straps slip from his pruned fingers. He finally turns you around and you tug at the boxers he was wearing at his fight.

But he slaps your hand away. “You don’t get anything till I’ve checked on my girl.”

In a haze, you mumble out a breathless ‘huh’ till he shoved his hand into your tiny panties strokes two fingers from your slit to your swollen clit.

“She’s so wet, fuck,” he says before sloppily kissing down your neck. His canines dig into your collarbones and you whine, trying to push him off to give yourself a break, but his unparalleled strength keeps him in place.

“I just need to know if it’s the water or if you’re just excited to see me,” he rasps, squeezing your breast with his other mitt. He presses deep on your nipple, and the stinging pain elicits a yelp out of you which he kisses away with a suck on your bottom lip.

“Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me that this pretty pussy wanted to be touched by me.”

You breathing goes ragged at the lewd sounds his fingers are making. You can clearly tell he’s trying not to lose his mind and shove his cock into like a madman because of the way the nerves in his neck bulge out.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make me come—oh—I’ve wanted your fingers in my cunt for three months.”

He rubs a calloused finger over your sensitive pearl and you grind onto his hand for more, but he moves his hand from your breast and uses it to press your waist against the wall.

“My gorgeous girl, if it were up to me I’d have you coming on my fingers already, but I’m an asshole who wants to do nothing but drive my dick in your cute little hole,” he confesses, taking your stiffened peak in his mouth, teeth teasing you.

“Then do it,” you huff out, fingers daring to reach down to his cock. “Fuck me.”

Sukuna sucks a kiss onto your breast before pulling away, and holds your cheeks tight, making your lips, protrude out. “If you say that again then I won’t hold back,” he says as he looks into your eyes with a darkened, heady gaze—the same look he had when he had won.

The killing machine was back, only, the adrenaline wanted him to drill his cock into your pussy till you fell apart limp and needy in his arms.

“Then don’t. Fuck me till I can’t walk,” you whisper against his lips.

Sukuna’s frown deepens as he slowly lets go of your face. His hands rest themselves on your shoulders before he slowly drags them down your body till his fingers slot themselves on the elastic band of your panties.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles is too loud to the point where you don’t hear him rip your flimsy panties and throw them near your t-shirt.

You gulp for what’s to come.

“Remember: you asked for this,” he whispers dauntingly in your ear before nipping at your lobe. You shiver when you meet his gaze again because staring back at you is an apex predator, addicted to the scent of his prey.

With no warning, Sukuna lifts your knee and wraps your leg around his waist as he shrugs his boxers off and plunges his hard cock into your wet, warm heat. Your mouth parts in response as you try to take in him entirely. He stretches you good as his fingers go back to your clit, rubbing it as he rocks his hips against yours. The overstimulation is too much: the hot water, his veined cock enveloped by your velveteen walls, and his natural scent. You wrap your arms around him and pull his mouth close to yours, kissing him hard when he begins to pick up speed.

“Oh, fuck, it feels good to be home,” he sighs into your mouth. You’re too fucked out to reply anything snarky, his cock filling you to the hilt, so deep that it almost feels like the head of his cock is kissing your cervix. “You fit so well around me, baby.”

You can only reply to him in strangles moans.

You cry out your release when you reach the edge, hips moving away from the wall, and to his body, chasing the feeling of tightening around his dick.

You nearly black out as Sukuna begins to chase his high too, fingers still not leaving your sensitive clit. You try to move his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. “Come on, baby, you can give me one more.”

You cry as he bites down on your neck. You don’t have much of a say when your body convulses, giving into your lover’s (commanding) request.

Sukuna hips slow down, now only hitting single hard thrusts each time he gives you his release, hips stuttering with every pump. You take it like a champ, even when your legs have no strength to keep you up and the only thing stabilizing you is Sukuna’s weight pushing you against the wall.

You both come back from your sex-crazed high, eyes looking around the cubicle, chests rising and falling simultaneously. When your eyes find his, you shyly smile, moving his wet hair away from his eyes.

Sukuna only grabs onto your hands, leaving you to look at him inquisitively before he slots his lips against yours.

‘He’s smiling,’ you think as you kiss him back, mirroring his happiness.

When he pulls away, you peer over his broad shoulder, to see your clothes in tatters outside the shower cubicle.

“I can’t go out naked,” you nervously chuckle out. Sukuna, who is still half hard inside you, sips a hard kiss from you before pulling you into a hug. “You can wear mine. I brought extra clothes.”

“Wait you planned for this?” You try to pull away but he only wraps his arms around you tighter.

“Shush, I need a minute with you in silence.”

----

taglist: @7haze @sukubusss @kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife @missthatgirl @iluv-ace @emoedgylord @miakxn @sunasgf1 @lolilewenk @clp-84 @sodapop182 @therealjustpeachesback @msanimeotaku181 @aerareads @rebels-rewrite @emochosoluvr @justlia110 @thejujvtsupost @lulunx

[hoffmanxfurthermore]

Make Me Disappear

(Erik Campbell x reader)

Content: piercings (including genital piercings), stranger hookup, public-ish hookup (in a business but it’s after hours), female/afab reader, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, teasing, cunnilingus, mentions of death, mentions of breakup, mentions of consuming alcoholic beverages, Erik being dominant/reader being submissive, aftercare

Author's Note: this is my first one after not having written in like, a year. Welcome to my comeback xD idek if this is good but I will let yall be the judge of that! <3 also. I only watched the movie once and I swear he had his tongue pierced too but apparently he does not lol.

Word count: 3.4k

“I want to get my tongue pierced. I don’t know. It seems like an impulsive move, I know. But like, I can always take it out if I don’t like it. Not like I’m getting a tattoo or anything.” 

It’s a warm night in mid-May, unusual for the usually rainy Pacific Northwest during this time of year. Shadows in the park grow longer as the sun sets. The atmosphere quietens, people scarce as the day comes to an end. You two are among the few still in the park.

“I mean, I’ve seen people doing worse after a breakup. Permanent tattoos, shaving their heads…” She smiles at you as you head back to her car, ready for a girl’s night with horror movies, pizza, and lots of drinking. You need it after the week you’ve had. 

The next morning, you wake up, confident with your decision. You’d decided not to drink last night as to not wake up feeling like shit. Your best friend was ecstatic at the fact of having all the alcohol to herself. It shows, too. She’s still passed out cold beside you. Careful not to disrupt her slumber, you slip out of bed and head to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Just before you leave, you fill up a tall glass with water and place it on her bedside table, along with a couple of ibuprofens for her to take whenever she wakes up. 

That evening, you step into Bloodlines Ink, a place you found on Google Maps that has the highest rating. A lot of reviews mentioned an Erik Campbell. Apparently, he’s “the best piercer in Portland.” It was about a 35-minute drive, but you don’t mind the drive. Driving helps to clear your head. 

Your ex, who hates piercings on women for some reason, called you twice during the drive. Both times, you hit the fuck you button on him. You’re doing this, you decide. He won’t come trying to crawl back to you if you have a piece of metal in your mouth.

“How can I help you?” the man at the front desk asks as you walk up.

“Do you take walk ins? I want to get my tongue pierced. I’ve heard good things about one of your guys. Erik?” 

“You’re in luck. Erik just had a cancellation,” he chuckles, “Erik! Feel like doing one more before you leave?” he shouts behind him.

A man dressed in black, with shaggy hair, tattoos, and a septum piercing, walks up. Holy shit, you think. He’s hot as fuck. His blue eyes seem to glow under the ceiling lights as he shakes your hand. You introduce yourself, trying not to sound nervous.

Not nervous about the piercing, nervous about if you’ll accidentally say something stupid to him and embarrass yourself. He cocks his head at you, motioning for him to follow you to his station. 

Erik hands you the consent form to fill out, takes your identification card, and goes over the process of the piercing and the aftercare. You can barely focus because, holy fuck. He even has his own tongue pierced, and you wonder how it would feel on you…

“Erik! I’m done for the night. Lock up when you’re done, will you?” Erik’s boss bellows to him from the front, wrapping his body in a black jacket. Erik simply nods, determined to finish what he’s started. 

And maybe take it further.

The bright neon lights in the shop window shut off as Erik’s boss leaves the shop. You glance over at Erik, who has a scowl on his face.

“I come in as a favour, my old man just died, and now they want me to lock up. Unbelievable,” he mutters to himself as he picks up the clamp and rips open the packaging. 

Your curiosity eats at you, but you decide that Erik probably doesn’t want to speak of it. He probably only came into work to take his mind from it. But nonetheless, you feel pity for him. You suddenly feel bad for internally lusting over this man you just met. 

“I’m sorry about your father,” you manage as you stare into his eyes.

The look in his eyes says he doesn’t wish to talk about it, so you lean back in the soft leather chair.

“Let’s do this,” you say with confidence, mostly, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

Your heart races as he grips your tongue between his latex clad fingers, picking up the clamp and gripping the muscle tightly with it. 

Just a pinch, lasting shorter than a second, and it’s over. Just like that. You’re surprised at how fast it was. 

“Alright, I’ve already told you all about the aftercare. Swish with salt water, avoid spicy, acidic, and hot foods, no alcohol,” his eyes meet yours, “No kissing or oral sexual contact. It’s all on that paper I gave you.” His voice is low and sultry. “Lightly sucking on some ice can help with the pain and swelling.”

“Okay,” you say with a slight giggle as you start to stand up, “I guess I should go now before I start to drool all over your floor ha-ha.”

“Too late, you’ve been drooling since the second you sat down in my chair. I notice things.” 

You can’t deny that he’s right… Fuck. You didn’t mean to be so obvious. Goddammit. 

“I gotta go.” You’re desperate to leave at this point, embarrassed as fuck. What were you thinking? You literally just got out of a relationship two days ago. 

Before you can take two steps, Erik makes a show out of snapping the latex gloves off his hands. He doesn’t say a word, but he stops you in your tracks anyways. His eyes are dark.

Seductive. 

Erik’s hand rests on his belt buckle. You’re frozen in place. The air is suddenly unbelievably thick as he slowly looks you up and down. You suddenly feel exposed, despite being fully clothed in simple jeans and a t shirt. 

“You’ve been eye fucking me since the second you laid eyes on me,” he murmurs, “So, are you going to leave, or stay and finish what you started?”

Seconds seem like hours as you simply stare at him, completely at a loss for words. Just his fucking stare alone is making you feel needy. You can already feel your arousal building. 

“Fuck it,” you finally say, and before he can protest, your hands are in his hair and you’re kissing him hard. Wincing from the fresh piercing in your tongue, but you ignore it as he grips your hips, pushing you back down into the chair. His grip is almost hard enough to bruise, his nails leaving little crescent shaped indents in your soft skin. 

“Guess you’re staying then,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. His hands travel all over your body, sliding under your shirt, skimming your sides, his thumbs grazing over the swell of your chest like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you. 

“Tell me to stop,” he says between nips to your neck, “or I’m not holding back.” 

Your breath catches. You should be stopping him. The timing is terrible, this is just a distraction for both of you. You, with your recent breakup, and him, having just lost his father. You should care about that. But you don’t. You’re too far gone now. High on the way he smells like heat and ink and adrenaline. Lost in the way his touch makes your skin tingle. 

Your whole body is lit up like a live wire, just from him. In this moment, stopping is nowhere near crossing your mind. 

“Don’t.” Your voice is breathy, hoarse. “Don’t stop.”

Without skipping a beat, Erik’s hands are under your shirt once more as he pulls it from your body and drops it to the tiled floor beneath you. The leather chair is cool on your skin as you lean back, allowing Erik full access to your body. 

A low growl escapes Erik’s throat as he wastes no time working to get your jeans undone. You silently curse yourself for wearing skintight jeans as you lift your hips up to assist him. But he takes his time removing them, his fingernails intentionally scratching at your thighs lightly. Giggling, you quickly kick off your Vans so your jeans can be taken off easily. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. Your arousal is already starting to show as a damp spot in the middle of your pink lacey underwear. Erik notices it too. His fingertips lightly trace over your mound, causing you to shudder and involuntarily buck your hips up.

“Someone’s excited,” he says teasingly, tracing his fingertips along the waistband of your panties, slowly and sensually. Your fingers claw at his shirt, desperate to tear it off his body as his lips leave light kisses all over your throat and collarbone, his scruffy facial hair tickling your skin in just the right way. 

His black shirt hits the floor, and he leans back so you can admire his body as he makes a show of unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his tight, black jeans. He’s teasing you, and, fuck, he’s doing it so well. He’s practically giving you a strip tease like a dancer at a club. 

You gasp as he lowers his pants. You can see the outline of his cock through his red underwear. It’s hard, throbbing, and… is that a piercing at the tip?! Fuck. You feel the wetness pooling between your legs just at the simple thought of feeling it inside of you. 

Wanting nothing more than to feel it in the back of your throat, you lunge at him, eager to rip the only remaining piece of clothing off his body. But lightning fast, he grabs your wrists. 

“Not so fast. You’ve got a fresh tongue ring. Remember, I said no sexual activity for two months,” he growls at you. You pout as he releases your wrists, only to swiftly reach behind you to unclip your bra. Your breasts bounce free as he tosses the garment behind him, doing the same with your underwear next. 

“Maybe when it’s healed,” you purr seductively, opening your legs just slightly.

“Maybe,” he growls in response as his fingertips graze your cunt. It’s like a shot of electricity shooting through your body, making you pulse with need. Erik chuckles as he holds his finger up, slick with your arousal. With wide eyes, you watch as he brings the digit to his mouth, his pierced tongue slowly lapping up your wetness.

“Mmmmm, fuck,” he groans. 

Holy fuck. That’s so hot. You moan just at the sight of him doing that… Erik making eye contact with you while he did it did not help at all. Your thighs clench around nothing, you want nothing more at this point to feel him between your quivering legs. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he says, lowers his head, “I think I want more.”

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, “Take whatever you want from me, please, Erik,” you beg desperately. You didn’t mean to say that, overtaken by lust, but Erik just looks at you with dark eyes. 

“Oh, I will…” he simply growls before he immediately dives in. Before you can even think, his head is between your legs. Licking, sucking, and nibbling at your most sensitive spots. 

“Fuck!” … you were not expecting him to just take you like that. 

He eats your pussy like it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks. He’s so fucking good at it… God, you’re seconds away from coming already. The way he moans and groans from your taste doesn’t help your case at all. His fucking tongue piercing seems to add onto the pleasure… you’ve never been with anybody who’s had… those piercings before. 

“Erik! Oh god, fuck!” you yell, your fingers gripping your hair as you buck your hips up to exacerbate the pressure, the friction, the passion. Erik grips your hip with one hand as his other hand reaches between your legs, and you feel two long fingers slide inside your slick pussy. 

You’re going to come right now if he doesn’t stop, you swear…

Erik hums against you as his fingers press your g spot repeatedly, sending a shockwave through your entire body. You yank at his hair so hard; you can feel stands snapping off in your grip as your other hand grips the edge of the chair you’re sprawled out in. Goosebumps cover your body, and your breath hitches. 

“Fuck! Erik!” you cry as the overstimulation takes over your body. You clench your quivering thighs together, and only when you shove his head away with all your might does he look up at you, a shit eating grin stretched on his face. 

You’re shaking, breathing heavily, barely able to think about anything other than the mind-blowing orgasm this man just gave you from his mouth and fingers alone. Fuck. 

“Tell me you want more,” he begs, “because I sure as fuck do.”

“Yes… please... I want you,” you breathe, still trying to catch your breath. You can’t think of anything else, all you want is Erik Campbell. 

And he’s about to give you all of him. 

“All of me huh?” His voice is so fucking low and velvety… “Don’t say that unless you really mean it.”

He immediately pulls your hips forward. In all of that, you hadn’t even noticed that he’d removed his underwear. You glance down and… He’s even bigger than when you saw the outline. Thick. At least seven inches. With a fucking Prince Albert piercing… Oh God. 

You quickly lean forward, grabbing the back of his hair and pull him into you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Fucking take me, Erik,” you gasp as you feel him throbbing against your clit. He adjusts his hips, so his tip is just teasing your soaking opening. 

He pushes inside of you. Slowly, at first. It burns deliciously as you stretch around him, inch by inch. His piercing adds extra sensation, making you moan loudly.

“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re so tight, I can feel your heartbeat.”

“I can… feel you, too,” you gasp as your body adjusts to his size. He bottoms out inside you and doesn’t move. You both just breathe, heavy and tangled in each other. Then he pulls out and pushes back in you. The pleasure tears through you like lightning. 

Your thighs’ grip around his hips tightens, and you grind your hips up into him. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and you’re determined to feel every little bit of it that you can. 

You moan incoherently as he moves at a slow pace. Your legs shake as that damn piece of metal rubs against the inside of you, intensifying the feeling, rubbing every sensitive spot inside of you.

Taking your noises as encouragement, he picks up speed. One hand grips your hip, holding you down, the other holding your leg up as he fully sheaths inside of you. 

Your mouth flops open, your eyes roll back. You’ve never been cock drunk like this before. You feel the heat pooling in your lower abdomen… You’re going to come again. It’s coming on hard and fast.

“Harder, fuck, please Erik!” you whine, chasing that high you so desperately need, for the second time. 

He leans down, his mouth meeting your right nipple as he thrusts faster. Goosebumps sprinkle all over your body and you scream a second time as another orgasm takes over your body. 

You can barely catch your breath before he yanks out of you. Grabbing your hips, firm and commanding, he forces you to roll over so you’re on all fours. You look behind you, staring him in his eyes as he lines up with your entrance once more. 

“Fuck, look at you…” he says in a low voice as his fingers slowly trail down your spine. Your shaking legs can barely hold you up at this point, but you force yourself to hold steady. You want everything he has to offer you, and you’ll be damned if you give up this fast. 

Erik yanks your ass up swiftly and slams his hips up against you, the slapping sound reverberating through the shop. He grips your waist so hard that you fear it may leave bruises. 

“This is all mine now,” he growls as he slides his cock into you once more, “every trembling inch of you.” His voice is low, possessive. He thrusts into you, hard. This new angle has you shaking as his piercing hits your cervix, dragging a moan from your throat.

“I’m… Yours…” you gasp as he fucks into you relentlessly. You make a mental note to get this man’s number after all of this because, holy shit, he’s amazing. 

“Don’t hold back on me now, I want to hear every noise I can pull out of you,” he says as he grabs your hair, pulling your head back so you can’t try to bury your face into the soft cushion of the chair. 

You’re about to come once more, and he can tell, because he just stops all movement right before you crash over the edge.

“Erik,” you whine desperately, looking back to meet his eyes, “Don’t stop, please!” 

“If you want it so bad, fucking work for it.” He smirks at you, enjoying how desperate you are. Your thighs are burning and threatening to collapse under you, but you muster up your last bit of energy and slam yourself back on him, chasing your own climax. Finding a rhythm, you continue to move, each stroke bringing you closer and closer…

“Just like that,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with need, “You’re driving me insane, y/n…”

Just hearing your name on his lips causes the knot inside you to finally snap, and you just know your voice is going to be hoarse in the morning from the way you’re screaming his name. Trembling violently, your legs buckle as you begin to collapse, but Erik wraps his arms around you as he thrusts deep. Once, twice, three times… A low groan, followed by a “Fuck!” escapes his lips as you feel his dick throb and spills his release inside you. 

Gasping deeply as you come down, you finally collapse onto the chair as he pulls out of you. Oh god, you really hope things aren’t awkward now. You know it’s only a one-night stand, but like, you really hope he will want to see you again because nobody has ever done to you what Erik has done to you tonight.

As you catch your breath and your thoughts become coherent again, Erik brings a warm, wet paper towel between your legs to gently clean up his cum that’s started to dribble out of you. You hadn’t even noticed that he got up, you were so out of it. He discards the soiled towel and grabs your hand, slowly helping you up into a sitting position.

You’re sweaty, your throat is raw, and your legs are literally shaking.

“Drink this,” he says, handing you a cup of ice-cold water. Chugging it down, you watch Erik as he collects your clothing from the floor. Still crouching, he looks up at you.

“You good?” he asks, reaching a hand out and brushing your damp hair away from your forehead.

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m… good. Just…” You contemplate your next words, “That was really good, and… I’d love to see you again after tonight.” Fuck it, like, the worst he can say is no. 

Erik smiles at you. “I was just thinking the same.”

You can barely contain your excitement as you hand him your phone to put his number in. Erik hands it back, then helps you to stand up so you can get dressed, standing next to you to make sure you’re okay. You almost want to cry at the sentiment; most dudes you hook up with simply just give you like a minute to collect your shit and go.

He softly kisses your temple as he wishes you a good night, walking you to your car. 

The next morning, you wake in your own bed, already smiling from the memories of last night. God, you couldn’t wait to see him again… As you unlock your phone, your news app displays the headline “Tattoo shop Bloodlines Ink burns down.”

The same shop you were at last night. 

A gasp catches in your throat. Your blood runs cold. You can’t move. Your eyes well up with tears.

“Erik…”

[thelien-art]

Lesbian orc woman please uwu

Thankyyyy

I might have gotten a bit carried away because I have made a lot of HC for orcs as a whole now and these two too... just a bit...

Anway, here are two lesbian pretty orc woman :) Búrzgûl & Durb-Naglur

Also I forgot tumblr doesn´t allow women's breasts so Búrzgûl´s dress/shirt?? might look a bit weird as it was a last minut thing :´)

🏳️‍🌈CELEBRATE PRIDE WITH ME🏳️‍🌈 - send in a character or a ship with a pride flag and I´ll draw it (read link for rules)

HC for Orcs and these two ladies down below

Búrz means dark in black speech, and Gûl means magic/dark shadows (in Sindarin it also means knowledge/magic), so small HC drop that the shamans/priests of Orcs have adjective names :) Durb is the start of words that include "force/dominate" and Naglur is an orc name in a draft of LOTR

Búrz is a shaman/priest, which is why she has most of the tattoos she has, especially those on her arms and hands. She is from Rhûn (maybe Khand?) and comes from a manish orcish tribe. Naglur´s tribe shows their lives through tattoos on the arm. The life before marriage is depicted on the left arm, which is why there´s some kind of sun near her elbow, because she married Búrz and now has begun her journey on her right :) (the small rim of dot scars is a marriage ritual from Búrz tribe) She is from a group of orcs who have come from Utumno and later Angband (I haven´t figured out if she´s born in the first age or later) and now lives near the Forodwaith.

Anyway, I have already made a sketch for a full piece of them XD so here they are just at home, and then when the other is finished, you guys will see their public more formal clothes too

Also, also, also, scars are attractive for ALL orcs, therefore most rub mud into their bigger wounds and hope to get a big impressive scar. I also HC them as an extremely clean society, because what is more humiliating than to die from infection??

Naglur is elf descendent, therefore more or less immortal, and Búrz orc (elf) and some part man and I haven´t decided if she is mortal or not😬 the angst possibilities... but also I think it would be extremely holy for orcs, especially shamans and priests, to be mortal with the way Melkor speaks about it, he fools the men into thinking it a curse but it´s made clear that he knows he is lying so what are the orcs opinion on it?

[slut4sugu]

“𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑, 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄” — jinx x black!femreader

including + genre: meet cute, jinx being a nervous mess, black!fem reader, lest mention ( I love her sm she’s so pretty omg.), wlw content, fluff, cutesy shit

jinx & isha hcs

BEFORE DATING

YOU HEARD STORIES OF JINX; about how she’s caused mast hysteria in piltover and her gadgets wreaking havoc but you never expected to soon find out she was the one who saved you from some douche at 4 in the morning in an alleyway. The sound of a gunshot echoed in the night as the guy who had once backed you into a corner now lay clutching his side on the ground. “Wasting time on assholes like you really makes my day.” You heard a voice say, the smell of gunpowder and spray paint waft in the air as you lean off from against the wall to see the person who saved you. Though once you’re properly standing on your two feet you come to see that no one is there. “Thanks..whoever that was.” You said in the silence of the night, before leaving the cold alleyway however you turned to kick the grisly man in the stomach. “Count yourself thankful that bullet is all you got.” As you walked away from the bar you became more wary of your surroundings, stealing a switch blade off of the guy who iPhoto on you as good measure. Though you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching you as you made your way back home.

Even in your everyday errands in piltover you felt as though you had a shadow, or something lurking behind your every step. Even after getting visiting your friend lest you felt as though someone was stalking your every move. Growing tired of this you decided enough was enough, going into a rundown boutique and sighing. “Alright whoever you are get your ass out here, I’m not one for stalking if you have a crush be normal and come out with it.” You stated, pulling out a dagger from its place on your thigh. The shop stood silent for a few minutes before someone seemingly jumped down from the attic, causing you to presume a fighting stance “Woah woah there girly, look I wasn’t trying to stalk you,” A voice of a girl said, putting her hands up defensively as she walked towards you. Blue braids cascading down her back as she walked “-it’s just ever since I saw you in the alley you’ve kinda been.. conveniently in the same area as me!” She awkwardly laughed. “Look I don’t- wait a second are you?” Your eyes squinted as you finally took a good look at the girl infront of you. Lean build, tattoos, long blue hair..oh shit it’s her. “Yep, it’s me jinx. Kinda got a reputation out there huh?”

You relaxed your stance, still holding your dagger, trying to get a read on why she of all people would want to stalk you. Glancing at the gun on her side you wondered if she was attempting to kidnap your and take you for one of her kooky experiments. But then your mind stopped, wait the alley? “You were the one who shot that jerk in the alley? You asked cautiously, lowering your dagger as she started to talk. “Mhm, though honestly I kinda owe that douche. Shooting assholes is fun n all but it’s not everyday I get to come across someone like you.” She admitted softly, lowering her arms as her eyes looked you over before landing on yours. You suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable under her gaze, as if the atmosphere had shifted. It wasn’t just the blue-haired mischief-maker standing before you; it was the weight of her words—the recognition that she didn’t just stumble upon you, but seemed to have taken a genuine interest.

“Why me?” The question slipped out before you had time to reconsider. You knew who Jinx was, a chaotic presence that thrived on disorder and mayhem—yet here she was, confessing to a crush or admiration; it felt strangely out of character. “Honestly? Because you don’t even flinch,” Jinx replied, grinning. “The last guy I shot was too busy crying to notice me!” Her laughter was contagious, a bright peal that echoed off the dilapidated walls of the boutique.

You broke into a reluctant smile, surprised at how easily the tension dissipated. “I guess that’s one way to put it. Most people would be running for their lives.” “Yeah, but who wants to be normal?” she shrugged, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, her demeanor shifting from defensive to casual as if the intensity of the moment had evaporated. “Being normal is fine and all, but where’s the fun in that?” Your heart raced with curiosity as you looked deeper into her vibrant, electric blue eyes. She was infamous in Piltover for her chaotic nature, but there was something intriguing about her—something that pulled at the threads of your own hidden desires for adventure.

“Okay, so if you’re not stalking me, then what do you want?” you asked, your dagger now resting lightly at your side. “Are you like a fan or something?”Jinx rolled her eyes dramatically, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Pfft, please! I'm not some lovesick puppy! It’s more like… I saw someone who doesn’t seem to be afraid of stepping into a bit of chaos and thought, ‘Hey, she seem like fun!’ Ever thought about living a bit more on the edge?”

Your mind flickered with possibilities and memories of the average life you had settled into. “On the edge? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not like you. I prefer to keep my distance from trouble.” You stated, brushing a curl from your eyes as you sheathed your dagger. “Distance is boring!” Jinx retorted, rocking on her heels, “Imagine the thrill, the adrenaline, I could show you a whole lot more than just average piltover.” She said in a sing song voice, her eyes never leaving yours as she began to close the distance between you two, though still staying a respectable amount of space away. “Alright,” you found yourself saying, “What do you have in mind?” Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

AS FRIENDS

roaming around at night in piltover became a thing between you two, no matter what time of the night

sleepovers at your place/ or hers would be chaotic but calming. Jinx’s random but caring nature was refreshing, though getting used to the height her lil hideout was an adjustment.

braiding her jinx’s for her was something you always loved to do when she came over in the middle of the night, however it would always lead into your bathroom becoming a hair salon becausee you had this shampoo and that conditioner and this oil. It was a lot at first but seeing you get so happy from just taking care of her was enough for jinx to stifle her nerves

loves watching you do your hair and volunteers to help braid it/style it after washing.

calls your pepper, berry, and sunshine

started to question if she had feelings for you when you dyed the ends of your hair blue and got her nails done the same color as hers

stole the same perfume you used from a store so when you weren’t around she could still have you somewhat close to her.

Made you a gun like hers with matching silver keychains.

Confessed she had feelings for you once when you were asleep (you were half awake) at her hideout, your curls slightly obscuring your eyes from her vision. Brushing them aside as you stirred, causing her heart to race as if a knife was at her throat. “Never thought I would get close to someone like this again..you did it though berry, wish I hated you for it but I actually..love you for it.” “Hmm?” “Nothing nothing! damn rooster being LOUD in the middle of the night.” “…what.”

DATING

Cheek kisses every 5 minutes + stares you down when you don’t give her one

makes you some of her gadgets in case of an emergency

random bear hugs; this girl will silently creep up on you scare the shit out of you then hug you so tight you can’t breathe

matching pink + blue couple jewelry

if you have stretch marks she’ll trace constellations on them and ask if she can give you a tattoo to wherever they’re at

hog the blankets when she’s sleeping but if she wakes up and realizes you barely have any she’ll pull you close and redistribute it back even over you <3

clingy asf, hates when you have to go to work

loves when you wear your natural hair, shrinkage n all, she loves putting little bows in your hair when your asleep.

[little-yandere-ish-blog]

Oh! Isekai!: Yanderekun x fem! reader

Yandere-kun x fem! Reader

Art: @kirnx-art

might be a shitty fic but I'm slowly getting back into writing so i'm rusty~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sighed sitting at your desk bored out of your mind, There wasn't much to do on a Saturday night especially at 1:17 in the morning. The clock ticks away the minutes, each second stretching longer than the last. The room feels smaller, quieter, as if the night is closing in on them. A glass of water sits on the nightstand, forgotten, next to a half-open book/manga you haven’t touched in weeks.

You roll over onto your side, blinking at the soft glow of your computer screen across the room. It's been sitting there, idle, waiting. The promise of something more engaging, something to break the monotony, pulls you in. You push yourself upright, the comfort of the bed reluctantly releasing you, and swing your legs off the side. The touch of the carpeted floor beneath your feet is grounding, almost too real, and for a moment, you hesitate.

The chair creaks as you sit down, the cool glow of the monitor illuminating your face, casting shadows across your features. The computer hums to life as you move the mouse, the familiar sound of the cursor clicking. You absent mindedly decided to boot up "Yandere Simulator". As you decided to set a new game for yourself you realized you couldn't customize not only the Yandere but the Senpai either. It was a male yandere and a female senpai.

Suddenly with the loud buzzing of your computer everything went to black. There was a bright light as you woke up to some students around you all wearing white sailor uniforms with a red ribbon and a navy blue pleated skirt the socks came in variations of colors and lengths. The male uniforms consisted of Black blazers with golden buttons and white collared dress shirt underneath. Including black dress pants. Not much to say compared to the female uniforms.

" Hey (last name) are you okay? Do we need to take you to the infirmary?" A girl with purple twin drills bent down to help you up.

You were stunned there's no way you were here. In the game. In...Yandere simulator. You sweated out of your mind. " Yeah, I'm fine I need to get up and walk" You got up with the help of Kokona.

You didn't mean to cause a ruckus, seems you might of existed in this world but you were here now, you were smart enough to know the mechanics of the game was to stay out of Ayano Aishi's way and breathe the same air as Taro Yamada and stay in populated areas because being at the wrong place at the wrong time will get you killed and you'd rather not be killed in the worst ways possible.

You noticed there wasn't Osana Naijimi. There was a male with orange hair and orange eyes and a small potion of hair held with a pink hair tie. His blouse and dress shirt was open his undershirt was pink with white polka dots. Seems to be the gender bent version of the rivals meaning there was a female senpai named Taeko Yamada and male ayano or Ayato Aishi.

" (name)! Are you okay? I heard what happened on your way out of the locker rooms" Osono approached you.

" oh yeah... I'm okay. Aren't you supposed to be with Taeko Yamada?" You asked trying to move the dynamic of the game where it supposed to be.

"Taeko Yamada? Did you hit your head stupid? I don't know who she is. I always hang out with you! Did your brain fall out on the concrete too? Geez I'll talk to your mom or something youre acting weird" Osono asked annoyed with your question.

You felt sick to your stomach and felt a bit cold.

"Hey! (name) don't fucking throw up on me. H-hey! (name)!" Osono looked grossed out.

Everything went black.

.....

..........

................

You woke up in the infirmary. You saw Osono asleep in the chair beside your bed. The infirmary had windows that let in the evening sunlight in. The nurse seemed to have stepped out and leaving you and Osano alone together, the Infirmary had 6 bed with curtains as separation. The room was surprisingly pink with the whiteness of the walls and floor.

"What the fuck?" You groaned sitting up, queuing Osano to wake up.

" You passed out on me stupid" He huffed softly, he was more worried than annoyed " The nurse said you have a fever, you need to stay home for a few days" He leaned over resting his elbows on his knees. He sighed " Lets get you home (name)"

The next few days it was you staying at home and resting attempting to battle this fever. Maybe something between your old world and this one made you get something. But surely you must be dreaming in your world and dreaming of this one but it feels too real you can feel everything. The grass, the wind, the sun on your skin, and even the warmth of another persons touch.

Osano has been visiting you everyday, but one day you got a knock on the door upon opening it you saw a man with black hair and grey eyes. Instead of wearing the black blazer he had his white dress shirt that's unbuttoned with the first two buttons. You recognized him immediately, he held a folder full of homework you missed.

" Sorry to barge in like this (lastname), I wanted to give you the homework you missed Osano was sick and I was told by the instructor to give this to you" He handed you the black folder that had your missing assignments.

" Its okay Aishi, I understand things happen i really appreciate you taking your time out of your day to bring these to me" You smiled softly, taking the folder he gave you. He held up a white plastic bag.

"I brought some things because I know you're sick" He offered the plastic bag to you.

"Aishi, there is no need I really appreciate everything" You tried to be polite.

" Its only fair because you helped me several times in the infirmary, so I basically owe you at this point" He said shyly.

" Its no problem! I want to make sure you're okay. Please try to give some rest" He handed the bag over to you not allowing you to decline him.

" Uhm I appreciate everything bu-" You were cut off you weren't able to say anything until Ayato came into your house and closed the door pinning you to the door.

"I know what your secret is the fact you are not apart of this timeline, but let me tell you (name). You cannot mess up this timeline I've seen you in hundreds of timelines everytime you've played this game again again. When you played mission mode, when you failed again and again every variation of this game you've played I've been there. You are not escaping me this time." Ayato's glare darkened

"Are you...the reason I'm here?" You said quietly.

" Exactly, you thought this was going to be something where you could wedge your way into another timeline? No. That's not how this is going to work. You and I are the same...More than you think we are" He chuckled.

" But, Im not isekai'd I can still go back home." You defended yourself

" Are you? You are dead in your old universe, electrocution at your computer after spilling strawberry ramune on your PC" Ayato chuckled.

" I can have you in every timeline, I could kill you and you will respawn in this universe either remembering or forgetting its going to be a bargain but you can NOT escape me." Ayato smiled softly.

" Run all you might. I'm not letting you escape me in this timeline or any other timeline" He chuckled.

......run all you might remember you are trapped here.

[glitchedsera]

Divine Error

*NOTES*

This is certified cringe, and I'm just realizing this now. I don't know what 16-year-old me was thinking, but it's too late to turn back now. No proofreading, we're going in raw. I'm still learning how to post on Tumblr, also I'm quitting fashion school.

*CHAPTER 2 : Marked as a Pretender*

"Wait a minute-"

"You fake! How dare you try to impersonate me?!"

Before you could even defend yourself, all the knights, including the Acting Grand Master herself, were after you.

This is what your bad feeling was trying to tell you, warning you of what's going to happen, and you immediately regret not trusting your instinct. Fortunately, your body reacts to the situation much faster than your mind, and you start running for the exit.

Fortunately, you were still near the entrance, you didn’t dare to look back as you quickly pushed the people out of your way and sprinted out of the Cathedral. But it didn’t take them long to be on your tail again.

Somehow, you’re lucky enough to manage to get out of the city with a few grazes, but it didn’t seem like they were going to give up anytime soon, as they continue to chase you.

You barely managed to dodge the arrows before you suddenly slipped and fell into a hole. Instantly taking advantage of the condition, you curled yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself less visible to them. As you heard them coming, you prayed to any god out there, hoping they wouldn’t find you.

Fortunately, your prayers were answered, and you heard them run past your hiding spot, unaware of your presence there.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart. You tried looking for a wound on your arm that was grazed by the arrows earlier, but to your surprise, there was no wound mark anywhere. Although your sleeve had a slight tear, there was no sign of bleeding anywhere. Which you find odd, but you quickly brush it aside for now, trying to focus on getting out without being seen by them.

After some attempt, you finally managed to climb out of the hole and quietly scan the area. Just a few blocks from here, there were a few hilichurl camps and a domain in the opposite direction.

“There’s no point in me getting isekai’d here if I’m the imposter…”

You tried to make up a plan as fast as you could. Walking around while you’re wanted in broad daylight will be a problem, but sitting in that hole all day was definitely not an option for you.

After giving some thought, you decided to go to the neighbouring region, Liyue. Getting to Inazuma from Mondstadt would be difficult, especially when you don’t have a boat.

Getting to the border wasn’t an easy task. Everywhere you go, there are knights all over the place. But luckily for you, you’ve been playing Genshin for years now, so it was easy for you to tell their next move and avoid their blind spots.

After a lot of hiding and almost getting caught because you’re smart enough to try that sneaky roll move. But you successfully passed all the guards and made it out of Mondstadt ground.

There weren’t a lot of people near Stone Gate, but just to be safe, you kept hiding in the shadows, trying to keep a low profile, and you tried to come up with another plan.

You wander halfway to Dihua Marsh, and your stomach decides to give you another thing to worry about. Your stomach growled as if it hadn’t been fed for days. The last time you ate was when you were grinding on Genshin before falling asleep, and that was hours ago.

Seeing there were no possibilities of the knights looking for you in Liyue, you decided to risk it and look around for something to eat.

You were sure there was supposed to be some sunsettia nearby, but oddly enough, there was none.

“I’m so hungry… What else can I eat here?”

Right when you were contemplating eating a slime, you stumbled upon a hilichurl camp ahead of you. Remembering that some camps have some fruits, you carefully approach the camp. If you had elemental vision, you could probably take out the hilichurls easily. But sadly, you have no powers or combat skills.

But the thought of the hilichurls might attack you still linger in your mind. In the story, the mobs wouldn’t attack the Creator. But you were convinced you were the impostor in this story.

Your stomach suddenly twists in pain from being starved too long. Being aware that there was nothing else around you, you continued to make your way to the back of their camp.

You observed them for a moment, trying to understand their body language and pattern. Some were dancing, and some were sleeping. It was the perfect opportunity for you to raid their stuff.

Just as you were about to make your move, you unexpectedly feel a presence behind you. Fearing what you thought it was, you slowly turn around, and you somehow feel your soul leave your body.

Behind you was a hilichurl, just staring at you and not doing anything, which made you even more anxious, and you mentally prepared yourself to get rocks thrown at you.

But it didn’t move at all, it was just staring at you, as if waiting for you to do something.

At this moment, you regretted not paying attention to that Hilichurl guidebook.

You slowly raise your hand and wave at it as if you’re greeting it. A few seconds later, the hilichurl copied your move, bringing its hand up and waving at you back. And this left you speechless. Did you just discover a way to communicate with the hilichurls without talking?

Then an idea suddenly pops up, and you put your hand on your stomach, as if trying to say that you were looking for some food.

But to your dismay, the hilichurl just left.

You let out a sigh. Of course, the hilichurls couldn’t just understand your based on just movements. Just as you was about to give up, the hilichurl returned with a bunch of fruits in its hands.

In an instant, you thank the hilichurl and take one of the apples from it, savouring its sweet taste.

After parting ways with the hilichurl, you blindly continue your journey.

Even though you were currently being hunted down, you couldn’t help but enjoy the beautiful scenery. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the midday sun settle on your skin. For a moment, you let go of everything. No footsteps behind you, no weight on your shoulders. Just the soft rustle of grass in the breeze, the distant chirping of birds, and the quiet stillness of a world at peace.

All of a sudden, you hit your head hard into a pole. Stumbling back in pain, you rubbed your head where the impact was. You’re sure that it was going to leave a bump.

But as you look up, you notice your surroundings and find yourself standing in front of a familiar-looking inn.

“This could be the best or worst place to be at right now.”

You decided to approach the place, half expecting to get chased out again. But to your surprise, people were happily greeting you. Just when you thought the knights had already informed the whole Teyvat about you. Liyue seems to be uninformed about the matter.

You awkwardly greet them back as you make your way up using the elevator.

Just like in the game, Soraya was still in her usual spot. But right after she sees your figure, she immediately bows down to you.

“Your Grace, what a surprise to see you here. I thought you were celebrating your arrival in Mondstadt.” You could practically hear the shakiness in her voice. You couldn’t help but wonder if she was scared of the Creator, or is the Creator that intimidating.

Whatever the case was, you are not someone people should be bowing to. You’re just another teenager who plays games in their room all day. Definitely not the right person to bow down to.

You grab her arm in an attempt to make her stand.

“I’m just stopping by.. Seeing how things are going here.”

The chances of her believing your obvious lie were slim. She’s a scholar, of course, she can detect any lie on the spot. But if she does know that you’re a fakie, you could always try and jump off the balcony.

Your characters barely took damage, you’ll be fine.

“You really mustn’t worry yourself over this, Your Grace. Things are going well here.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t know how you managed to get away with that, but you’re not complaining.

You quickly nodded and excused yourself, continuing your way to meet a certain boss lady.

Once you made your way up, Verr was just as shocked as everyone else upon seeing you.

“Your Grace, what brings you here?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure why you even came up here.

“Verr, did you uh, receive any letter or something…? You managed to mumble out.

You were sure that if the knights were on a hunt for an imposter, they would inform the other region as soon as possible.

“A letter? No, I don’t think so.”

Well, at least that’s some good news for once.

‘I should probably go somewhere else before they realize-‘

Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt as a delicious aroma caught your attention. And your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Verr.

“Your Grace, perhaps I could offer you something to eat before you leave? The kitchen has already prepared some Jade Parcels and Almond Tofu.”

If the circumstances were different, you’d be happy to accept her offer. Trying out cuisines from different nations has always been a dream of yours ever since you started playing the game. Alas, right now was not the perfect time to do so.

“That’s kind of you to offer, Verr. But I have to leave soon.”

You politely decline her offer. But she kept insisting, saying ‘it would be an honor to have Their Grace dine at their inn’. 

Seeing how persistent she was, you gradually accepted her kind offer. Happy with your decision, she led you to one of the empty tables before leaving to get your meals.

While you were looking forward to a nice, delicious meal, the people of Mondstadt were facing your copy’s wrath.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you'd gone to the school, hoping to find Wally or Shy Boy or Bitnik Girl. hell, you'd settle for Mina Volkov and her volatility, adamant that you'd had to have practiced the right procedures to join her in the rafters. At that point, you'd been willing to do just about anything (exposing your abilities included) to help course-correct after Simon had been hauled away by the cops.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.21

You were willing to do as Xavier had asked. To stay home and rest—not that you'd have been able to do so successfully, earlier events churning together in a wild storm of tragic memory, frayed thought, and sick emotion. You'd been curled up on Aiden's bed, holding Limon like a lifeline, Xavier long gone after promising to pick you up in the morning.

Then Simon had texted; had told you about Mrs. Grace striding into the interrogation room and disarming the deputies' aggressive questioning with a single look before they'd had a chance to dig in. Apparently, Simon was due back at the station the next day, informed he was to give a formal statement that would be recorded and observed by the right parties.

In the aftermath, his parents had been frantic to the point of guarding the exits and refused to let him out of his room. He'd been allowed access to his phone for ten minutes until he'd had to hand it back to his mother.

You'd weighed whether or not to admit that you knew about Simon and how he could see Maddie, but ultimately decided not to do it over text. If his mother had his phone, she was likely checking notifications as they came in—you knew yours would—and that wasn't a problem you wanted to cause.

Things had already gone from abstract to real too quickly for you to fathom, everything utterly and completely fucked.

You were scared. Scared for Simon, for yourself. For Maddie.

Spurred into action, you tiptoed back into your room, pulled Andrew's hoodie out of your laundry basket, grabbed a pair of slip-on sneakers, and—quiet as a mouse—climbed out of your window. Into the tree that stood against the house. Down the thick ladder of branches to fall the last stretch into the bushes. You waited for a full minute before moving, just in case someone had heard the rustled crash.

The windows stayed dark and the neighborhood silent.

They think I had something to do with it, Simon had relayed, they aren't even looking at Anderson.

You shuffled out of the bushes and quick-marched the path to Split River High, keeping to the shadows to avoid late-night weirdos, and possible Neighborhood Watchers who would tattle on you. You didn't have a plan, knew the school was locked and a night guard was on duty. Either Al or Barry, the two rotating shifts between day and night week by week.

Al was old, watermelon-round, and slow; wouldn't give you more than a lazy warning if he caught you trying to break into the building. Barry, on the other hand, was young, loud; had some kind of point to prove, and acted like his uniform made him the voice of authority. He wouldn't hesitate to tell Principal Hartman who he'd caught in the halls after dark, jaundiced teeth on display as he sneered through a heavily embellished version of the truth just to make things worse for you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you hurried across the parking lot, two cars in the reserved spots. One was definitely the security guard's, but the other you couldn't identify until you got closer. You recognized a charm on the bag left behind in the passenger's seat. A Chinese talisman that Ms. Chung had had dozens of strung around her office.

"What happened to Aiden?" Ms. Chung asked, friendly and serene.

"He...someone..."

Ms. Chung shook her head and tsked, "The truth. What happened to your brother? He fell, didn't he? And you believe it's because you weren't watching him closely enough."

You searched your memory, confused, everything muddled. It'd only been two days since you'd been released from the hospital. Two days since Aiden's death, yet you couldn't form a clear enough picture to share with the grief counselor. There'd been rain. Old wood. The farmhouse's interior a blur as you ran...in? Blood. So much blood. And Aiden, porcelain pale, lips blue, bruises...bruises? God, the blood.

"No, he..."

"He fell down the stairs." Ms. Chung repeated, writing something down in her notebook before casting you a pitying look.

You banished the memory and moved on quickly. You didn't have time to wonder why she'd left her car behind. Unless she was there to have the freakiest date ever with the security guard on duty.

Vigilant, you jogged to the back of the school where you stopped a few feet short of the door. You were relying—perhaps too much—on the connection between you and Wally, blind hope warring with better judgment as you chanted his name in your mind. Over and over, infused with pleas to come find you.

It was stupid, you thought, the dumbest idea anyone had ever had, begging a ghost to ride in like a white knight on the back of the telepathy neither of you had. What was worse was that, even upon entering the school grounds, the connection had only murmured to life, a barely-there purr reaching outward like a cat stretching after a nap. It was unbothered, the way you'd noticed it was when you and Wally weren't within a specific radius of one another.

While it made it easy to concentrate in class, that little mechanism made you want to punch a hole through the fabric of the universe and throttle whatever divine entity had thought it up. Motherfucker. Still, you hoped it would be enough to get Wally's attention.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally felt your presence as soon as you'd stepped through the barrier. A sweet honey tug in his gut that made his lips tingle and his skin warm.

He glanced at the others, sat together in the library as friends despite the drama earlier. The atmosphere was the kind of comfortable that gave Wally hope things were back on the right track.

Rhonda had just finished explaining how the Devils had become the Bandits, an old yearbook open in front of her, and they'd collectively agreed to keep Simon a secret from Mr. Martin.

A sense of excitement fizzed in Wally's core at the thought of sharing a secret with his friends. He couldn't recall ever having had one since his death. Nothing important, anyway. Which he'd feel strange about if it weren't for the fact that he'd shared a finite amount of space with the same handful of people for forty years (he ignored how his gut twinged).

And now he possessed two important secrets. One of which waited outside for him.

Charley had just asked where they went from there when the connection blossomed to life in Wally's chest. At midnight. On a weekday.

After how you'd left earlier, Wally was desperate to see you, to hold you, to make sure you were okay, but he wasn't sure how to make a smooth or natural exit.

He could feel how agitated you were. How you beckoned him, needed him, pleaded with your soul for him to find you, fuck, he had to go. Every cell in his metaphysical body was charged and drawn in your direction.

"Earth to Wally, you still with us?" He heard Charley ask and blinked himself back to the present moment.

He slapped on a smile and nodded, "Yeah, sorry, just...thinking about talking to the living." At least it was relevant enough that he didn't have to lie.

Charley looked at Maddie who looked at Rhonda, then all three of them stared at Wally, clearly waiting for him to elaborate.

"It's nothing," He assured, even as the pull of the connection swelled inside him and became more insistent. "Just. I'll be right back." It wasn't smooth, nor was it natural, but it'd have to do. And when everyone cast him looks of concern and confusion, he said, "I'm just going to grab a snack. Anyone want anything?"

Rhonda and Maddie shook their heads, expressions suspecting, but Charley perked up, "Can you see if there are any of those blueberry muffins left?"

"Can do, buddy," Wally saluted and tried to leave at as measured a pace as he could.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Minutes passed and you paced a groove into the grass, hands shoved into the kangaroo pocket of Andrew's hoodie when you weren't combing your fingers through your hair or flapping them along with the angry diatribe in your head. Because who the hell were those deputies to suspect Simon of anything?

Of course, you didn't know the whole story. Simon had only had ten minutes to talk and he'd also been texting Nicole. Probably Mathilda, too, since she'd been on the verge of rabid by the time he was released into his parent's custody.

Fuck this. The connection wasn't working, or maybe Wally was preoccupied, or, who knew, he could be in that strange state of suspension that you'd read about; a whole chapter dedicated to how ghosts basically shut down like robots between the hours, as if not existing at all, until something roused them.

You didn't even know if the connection between you and Wally would be enough to reboot him if he had gone all suspended animation.

Out of patience, you turned to stomp around the side of the building and check the gym door. You knew that's where the ghosts had their unconventional group therapy sessions, and figured it was as good a place as any to start.

"I wouldn't bother." An unfamiliar voice said from behind you in the same instant your shoulder was grabbed in a hard, yet not painful, grip, halting you in your tracks. "It's locked."

"What the hell!?" You whirled around, recoiled, heart in your throat, terrified that it was Mr. Anderson come to do to you what he'd done to Maddie.

It wasn't Mr. Anderson. Rather, it was a tall boy with South Asian features wearing coveralls—the top half rolled down and tied by the sleeves at the waist. His expression was that of astonishment, staring at his hand as if touching you had caused some kind of reaction. A beat, and then he looked up and regarded you in awe.

The longer he stared, the more time you had to process, and with a thick swallow, dread took the place of your earlier panic. You knew exactly who stood in front of you. Arjun "Ajay" Khatwani. Died 1992. Crushed under the belly of a car during Autoshop.

"Oooh, fuck me." You bemoaned, scrubbing your hands over your face.

In the most disinterested voice you'd ever heard, "No thank you," Ajay said, seeming to come out of whatever shocked stupor he'd been in. He didn't beat around the bush, told you directly, "You can't be here right now." And, yeah, you were aware. It was way past your bedtime and students weren't allowed on the grounds after a certain time.

However, studying Ajay, you had a feeling it had nothing to do with the late hour. "Why not?"

He arched a brow and crossed his arms. "I'm not an idiot," He started, "I know you're here to see Wally. Probably because you have information about Simon. Or..." He peered at you studiously before continuing, "you want to find something to help Simon."

Your lips twisted in discomfort. The guy was eerily astute. Sherlock Holmes level deduction that made you want to hide. You weren't about to back down now, though. And, like Ajay had said, you needed to find something to help Simon.

"Congratulations, you caught me. Doesn't change the fact that I am getting into that building and I am going to search that theater."

"Mina isn't on 'lunch'." He air-quoted. How the hell did he know you knew that? "She'll see you there. And she'll see Wally there with you because you two are like fucking salmon to spawning grounds." Ajay mumbled the last part with disdain. Like he'd seen things. "And then your abilities will be discovered by another ghost. And then another and another because, whatever's going on with you these days, you aren't being as careful."

You had absolutely no idea how to respond to that apart from elegantly asking, "What the fuck?" Although, Ajay wasn't wrong. You blamed it on the connection with Wally. How needy and irrational it made you to be in his arms; your lips on his, his hands on you—ahem. Etcetera. "Well...fuck it." You decided, "You're already talking to me. Who cares if Mina finds out?"

Ajay stepped closer to you, voice low, face set stoically, "It's not Mina I'm worried about." However, before he could explain what the very hell that meant, the side door clacked open and Wally emerged, slightly out of breath.

"Baby," He stepped right up to you, gathered you in his arms and kissed you deep, slow, stealing the air from your lungs as he held your face carefully. When he pulled back, he rested his brow against yours, "Fuck, I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"Uhm...no. Not really," You leaned back to point at Ajay, "He knows things."

"Some might say everything," Ajay said, smug, though his face remained deadpan. He looked to Wally, "Where are the others?"

Wally held you tighter, "I told them I was getting a snack." He returned his attention to you, said, "I don't know how much time I have."

"You're not surprised he knows things." You narrowed your eyes at Wally. "Why aren't you surprised he knows things?"

Wally's cheeks reddened and his eyes slanted away. He wasn't who answered the question.

"In his defense, I already knew about you." Ajay said as he moved closer. "Just like I knew about your sister, Aurora."

You felt the ground fall out from under you. Ajay knew Aurora? Aurora, who couldn't see or hear ghosts; who could've easily hidden her connectedness from everyone, had been discovered by a ghost. You'd question whether or not Ajay himself had connectedness if it weren't for the fact that ghosts couldn't. Blood, flesh, and bone were required to make that chemistry work.

Cautious, "Who else knows about Aurora?" You inquired, pressing a mite deeper into Wally's embrace.

Ajay softened around the eyes, gazed at you with sincerity when he assured, "No one. I promise." Then, to Wally, "What do you wanna do, bro? We sneaking her in?"

Wally snorted, "Like we could stop her." He glanced back at you, squeezed your hip when he revealed, "Maddie found something in the theater today. She thinks it'll help clear Simon's name."

Your heart hammered. Were you really going to take the risk?

While you were relieved that there was a way to get the cops off of Simon's back, you still had to figure out how to do that without alerting anyone else to your connectedness. Then again, you thought, apart from Wally, Ajay already knew. You suspected Mina did as well and the only thing that kept her quiet was that she was a residual haunter.

Besides, you wanted Maddie to know you were there for her. That she had more than just Simon on her side. There was strength in numbers and together, maybe with Wally and Simon playing translator since you couldn't actually see or hear her, you could bring Maddie back to where she belonged.

So. Fuck everything. There hadn't been any tears in the universe. The sky hadn't fallen. No storms or swarms or ectoplasmic squalls. Your mother and Ginny had yet to find out. And, you believed, if you and Simon got Mr. Anderson to confess to the whereabouts of Maddie's body, maybe this would all be over before your mother and Ginny ever would find out.

"Bring her." You said with finality, eyes holding Wally's.

Wally frowned, glanced at Ajay with uncertainty, then back at you, "Babe, I don't think I can get her alone right now. She's with Charley and Rhonda, and they're already suspicious. They know I don't snack after 8PM."

It was your turn to frown, "You have food rituals?" Whatever, that was for another time. You waved a hand in dismissal, "I don't care. Bring them. Bring everyone."

"Not everyone," Ajay advised. Sighed. To Wally, "If you do this, know that I support you no matter what. Even if it is digging yourself a second grave."

Startled, you asked, "Wait, what does that mean?"

"Rhonda just barely got over Charley and Maddie not telling her about Simon." Wally said. You could see how nervous he was, "She'll probably rip my limbs off and use them to play mini golf..."

Well, you didn't want that. "So, what do I do?" You could feel your frustration mounting. You wanted to help. You wanted to be useful. But, just like Xavier had done, it seemed Wally and Ajay were forcing you to ride the bench. "Guys," You stepped back, out of Wally's arms, giving them both your most severe expression, "I have these stupid abilities for a reason. Let me use them to help my friends."

"But the rule—" Wally started.

You interrupted, "Fuck the rule! Nothing's happened since you and I started talking."

"A lot more than talking," Ajay muttered to himself.

"I don't care about the rule, I don't care about being swarmed by ghosts and their unfinished business. I. Don't. Care." You took a deep breath, repeated the mantra Ginny had taught you, and then spoke again when you were calm, "Wally, if you don't want them to know we've already been talking, fine. We'll figure out a way to work around that. But I'm going into that theater tonight and there's nothing either of you can do to stop me." You stared both Ajay and Wally down. "So you can help me, or you can get the fuck out of my way."

Wally threw his hands up, a smirk playing on his lips, "Whoa, baby, we get it." He snatched you around the waist and dragged you against him, smirk widening as he gazed down at you, "We're on your team." And then, lower, in your ear, "You're sexy when you get all bossy, you know that?"

Pained, "I'm right here," Ajay reminded the world at large.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The plan was simple. First, get you into the school and then to the roof undetected (the security guard, Barry, never checked the roof because, really, who would?). It was the safest place to meet and have what Wally predicted was going to be a long and heated discussion.

Second, Ajay would go retrieve Rhonda, Charley, and Maddie from the library—sans blueberry muffin, sorry Chuck. Wally would wait with you on the roof while Ajay explained to the others that there was someone who could help Maddie help Simon.

Third, introduce Rhonda and Charley to you, and pray to every god Wally could name that Rhonda was feeling charitable with her forgiveness. Could ghosts have heart palpitations? Because Wally was having heart palpitations.

Ajay had suggested that he and Wally lie; that Ajay pretend to have been your ghostly contact, and Wally had happened to stumble upon you and him on his way to the cafeteria. A decent enough deception except that the connection between you and Wally refused to let him go more than a minute without touching you.

"You sure you don't wanna do what Ajay said?" You ask quietly, leaning into Wally's side as you and he sat against the low ledge that followed the perimeter of the roof. "I could totally act like I've never met you before."

Wally huffed, grinned, looked at you skeptically, "No way could you do that." He pulled you in closer, long arm around you, big hand on your bare thigh. Fuck. Those little sleep shorts you wore gave him ideas and he wished he'd asked for a few minutes alone with you before executing the plan.

"Oh, you think I can't act? You haven't even seen me try!" You argued playfully, beaming up at him, marbled eyes bright and beautiful and already drawing Wally in.

"Fine," Wally conceded, "Maybe it's me. Maybe I can't act like I don't know you," and dipped in to brush his lips against yours, his hand lifting to caress your jaw and angle your head how he wanted you. "Maybe I can't act like I don't want you," Another kiss, "Every." Kiss. "Fucking." Kiss. "Second." And he tugged you into his lap, hands automatically finding your ass, tongue in your mouth, heart beating wildly in his chest as tingly heat coiled tight in his belly.

He groaned when you pulled away, cute little smirk on your face, "Your friends will be here in a minute. Do you really want them to see me dry humping you when they get here?"

"I really couldn't care less," Wally pouted as he leaned in to kiss you again. Short. Soft. But effective. He took your left hand and brought the back of it to his lips, pressed gentle, dry kisses along the length of your scar. Heaved a sigh and said, "Alright, maybe I care a little."

But you weren't looking at him anymore. Your attention was on your hand, gaze distant, mouth downturned, and Wally could feel the sorrow seeping from your pores like it was his own. As he was about to ask if you were okay, you began to speak.

"Six years ago...my little brother died." You said, voice hushed and strained. Your eyes misted and body trembled so minutely Wally almost didn't feel it beneath his hands. He rubbed your thighs in comfort as you continued to stare at your hand, now resting on Wally's shoulder. A stuttered breath and, "It was my fault."

Wally didn't want to ask how it'd happened, scared to upset you, but you were already there, back in time, reliving the past. Gently, "You don't have to talk about it, pretty girl. It's okay."

You shook your head. Blinked the tears out of your eyes and used the sleeves of your hoodie to wipe them away. "No, I said I would. And I want to." At his skeptical look, "I do." You gave Wally a watery smile, quick and genuine. "He fell down the stairs at an old farmhouse. One of those heritage places in town, you know? We went in to get out of the rain and he wandered off..." Something flickered across your eyes as you pulled the memory to the fore.

A glimmer that was almost lost beneath the marbled colors. It was gone so fast, Wally had to assume he'd imagined it.

"How'd you get the scar?" He asked, so quiet, so afraid to do anything that might perforate the intimate bubble that had formed around you and him.

You stared at your scar again, blinked slowly, opened and closed your mouth a couple of times before finally saying, "Loose nail in the floorboard. I...slipped...fell...running down the stairs to get to Aiden."

Wally winced sympathetically, lifted his hand to place it over yours, and turned to kiss your palm. That must've been one hell of an awkward fall. He couldn't picture it, how your body would have had to have contorted in order for the nail to catch the back of your hand. You must've gone head over heels trying to get to your little brother.

"It wasn't your fault." He said, soft yet firm.

"You weren't there," You whispered, breath caught in your chest, eyes filled with a regret and anguish that stabbed Wally through the connection.

Not knowing what else to do, he held your jaw tenderly in his palms and kissed you. Stroked his thumbs across the arches of your cheeks to swipe away the dampness. "It's not your fault." He repeated, imploring, eyes flickering between yours.

"Wow." A snide voice cut through the bubble of intimacy between you and him. "You weren't kidding. They really can't keep their hands off each other."

Wally peeked around you and gulped.

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY - PART TWENTY-TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[woso-story]

Until Next Time - Last Part

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One | Part Two | Part Three

The Barcelona sun was as radiant as you remembered, its golden light casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets. It had been years since you’d walked these familiar paths, and yet, the city still felt like an old friend. You were in town for a two-week vacation, a short respite before the next chapter of your career began in Munich.

After three years with Portland, you had decided it was time for something new. Offers had come in from across Europe, including Spain, but the idea of playing for another Liga F team didn’t sit right. Barcelona had been your home, your heart, and you couldn’t imagine stepping onto a Spanish pitch wearing anything other than Blaugrana. Bayern felt like the right choice—another adventure, another step forward.

But for now, you were here, sitting in a little café that had once been your sanctuary. This was where you and Alexia used to come on quiet mornings, sharing coffee and conversation. The thought of her was bittersweet, as it always was, but you had learned to carry it without letting it consume you.

You sipped your coffee, gazing out the window, when the soft chime of the doorbell caught your attention.

And then, you saw her.

Alexia.

She looked almost the same, yet different. Her hair was slightly shorter, her features a little sharper, but her presence was as commanding as ever. For a moment, you thought you were imagining it. Then her eyes met yours, and you knew she saw you too.

Her expression shifted from surprise to something softer, something deeper. You felt frozen, your heart pounding as she hesitated before walking toward you.

“(Y/N),” she said, her voice carrying the weight of three years.

“Alexia,” you breathed, your throat tight.

Neither of you moved for a moment, and then she gestured to the empty seat across from you. “May I?”

You nodded, unable to find words.

---

The conversation started awkwardly, as if you were strangers feeling each other out. You exchanged pleasantries, updates about your careers and lives. But as the minutes turned into hours, the walls came down. Laughter spilled between you, old jokes and inside references resurfacing as if no time had passed.

“I can’t believe you still remember that,” Alexia said, shaking her head with a grin after you brought up a particularly embarrassing moment from her early Barça days.

“Some things you don’t forget,” you teased, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

The café staff had to politely ask you to leave when they started closing up for the night. Outside, the evening air was warm, the city alive with soft murmurs and the distant hum of traffic.

“Do you want to walk?” Alexia asked, her voice tentative.

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

---

You ended up at the beach, the waves lapping gently at the shore. The two of you sat in the sand, the conversation flowing as naturally as it once had.

“I missed this,” Alexia admitted after a while, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

You turned to her, your chest tightening. “I missed it too. I missed you.”

She looked at you then, her eyes searching yours. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t either,” you said honestly. “But maybe… maybe we were supposed to.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

---

The next two weeks felt like a dream. You and Alexia spent as much time together as your schedules allowed, rediscovering the connection you thought had been lost. You texted, called, and met up every chance you got. It felt effortless, like slipping back into something that had always been there, waiting for you to return.

When the day of your departure arrived, the two of you met at the same beach where you’d spent that first night.

“I don’t want this to end,” Alexia said quietly, her voice trembling.

“Me neither,” you admitted.

She reached for your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. “Then let’s not let it. Let’s try again. This time, we’ll make it work. We’ll fight for it.”

You smiled through your tears, your heart swelling with hope. “I want that too.”

---

The walk to the airport terminal felt heavier than it should, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. You glanced at Alexia by your side, her expression calm, but you knew her too well to miss the way her jaw tightened, the way her hands stayed stuffed in her jacket pockets as though holding herself together.

Your thoughts drifted to the last time you had said goodbye to her. That night in Paris, one and a half years ago.

You remembered the Ballon d'Or ceremony, the way her eyes had lit up when she saw you for the first time in over a year, the hours you had spent talking afterwards in the the little bistro, laughing, and feeling like the pieces of your life were clicking back into place.

And you remembered the goodbye, how neither of you had wanted to leave but had known you had to. Her soft “Take care of yourself,” the kiss on your cheek, the way you had walked away, fighting the urge to go back to her. You hadn’t known it then, but that night would mark the beginning of a year and a half of silence.

No messages. No comments on Instagram. Nothing. It had been too painful, too complicated.

But now, standing at the terminal, you realized how much that silence hadn’t mattered. You had found your way back to each other again.

---

“I thought about Paris a lot,” you said softly, breaking the quiet.

Alexia’s gaze snapped to yours, her eyes wide with surprise. She let out a shaky breath, her lips curving into a wistful smile. “So did I. So many nights I lay awake and I’d think about that night. I’d wonder if I’d ever see you again.”

Her admission tugged at something deep inside you. “I wondered the same thing. I missed you, Lex. Even when I tried not to.”

“I missed you too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I always will, no matter where life takes us.”

---

Inside the terminal, you set your suitcase down, turning to face her fully. “This doesn’t feel real,” you admitted, your throat tightening.

Alexia nodded, her own composure beginning to falter. “I know. But we’ve done this before, remember? Barcelona, Paris and now Barcelona again. We always find each other again.”

You let out a shaky laugh, tears brimming in your eyes. “We do, don’t we?”

She stepped closer, her hand finding yours and squeezing tightly. “And we will. I don’t care how many goodbyes we have to say; I’ll wait for the next hello.”

Her words hit you like a wave, and you found yourself leaning into her, your forehead resting against hers. The world around you blurred, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.

“Until next time,” Alexia murmured, her voice steady even as her eyes glistened.

“Until next time,” you echoed, your voice breaking.

She kissed you then, slow and tender, as though pouring all her unspoken feelings into the moment. When she pulled back, she kissed your forehead, her hands lingering on your arms.

---

As you finally turned to leave, you glanced back one last time, just as you had in Paris. Alexia stood there, watching you with a bittersweet smile, her hands once again tucked into her jacket pockets.

This wasn’t like Paris. It wasn’t an end. This was a promise—one you both knew you would keep.

---

As you boarded your flight to Munich, your heart felt full for the first time in years. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, you were certain that this love was worth it.

Because some things—some people—are meant to find their way back to each other. And this time, you and Alexia would make it last.

Until next time.

[tizeline]

Ahhh waiiit!!! Is this some really fun like foreshadowing stuff (though we already know the foreshadowed stuff) where you put Leo and Raph facing away from Draxum to symbolise them turning on his ideals first????? And like Leo is in the shadows cause I guess he‘s really formed his own opinion about Donnie and destroying the humans while Raph doesn‘t share his beliefs but still follows him!! And Mikey is facing Draxum symbolising that he and Drax are still gonna pursue their dreams of getting rid of the humans?? Is that what this is?????✨

You're like the third person so far to point out the potential foreshadowing in this panel, which lemme tell ya, is very funny considering it was basically entirely unintentional on my part! XD

BUT!!! I am a firm believer that the audience can find meaning in a piece of art regardless of whether it was intended by the creator or not, and I'm honestly loving your analasys because dammit it works!

That being said, I drew Mikey looking to Draxum for reassurance, while Raph remains more internally contemplative because I thought it fit their personalities. Then again, their differing personalities obviously also effect their actions later on in the story when they're forced to confront their flawed ideology, so in that way this panel kinda naturally parallels their whole character arcs?

NGL, I very much threw Leo into the panel last minute haha. In the panel before, he was still sitting on the ground-

-and the way I drew the perspective in the following panel led to Draxum blocking the view of him. But then it felt weird that he was the only one not visible so I squeezed him into the background right at the end lol (I guess he decided to stand up or whatever). As a result, he's not as clearly visible, but it does kinda work in my opinion. Both in the way that you pointed out, him being turned away from Draxum foreshadows to him turning his back on their mission. But my own thought process when drawing him this way was less metaphorical and more focused on wanting to portray Leo's current emotional state. Leo is arguably the most upset about Donnie rejecting them, which is why he after this starts acting so hostile towards his estranged brother, and while I'm not putting a ton on focus on Leo's reaction specifically in this part of the comic, I still wanted to include it. All of this is to say, Leo is standing with his back turned towards the rest of his family and obscured in shadows because he's being angsty. Lmao.

ANYWAY, that was my actual thought process while drawing this, but I want to make it clear yet again that I absolutely love that you guys are coming up with your own interpretations because fuck yeah!!!

[jojomiwbvb6]

Author's note: I thought this blurb up tonight and knew you guys will eat it up bc bitch, me too. (Yes the title is inspired by INK, but it fits)

The Shower Scene

Warnings: this is a work of fiction. NSFW, MDNI. Smut (18+) Swearing, voyeurism, descriptive, masturbation

Part 2 / Part 3

You had a long day on tour. Load-in was exhausting. Every time you turned around, at least one mechanism had a glitch or a cable went haywire. At least 2 malfunctions during the concert that they spent 10 minutes fixing. By the time load-out commenced, you were flat on your face and crawling to the bus.

The Bad Omens bus was as homey and fun as they could make it on the road. Tomorrow they had a day off in Denver, Colorado, and decided to venture the city for the day. As the bus pulled up to their nightly hotel, the crew, including you, and the band gathered their bags and got ready to depart the bus.

"Dude, I'm so ready to lay in that goddamn bed, I'm so fuckin' tired," Ruffilo commented.

"Fuck yeah, Albuquerque fucked me up." Folio responded.

"I'm gonna take the hottest fucking shower. The devil himself wouldn't be able to take the heat." You said.

This earned a chuckle from a few of the guys around you.

Noah walked up behind his bandmates. His face was calm, devoid of having any idea of what he could be thinking. He briefly ran his eyes over you, quickly looking away into the shadows.

Noah was always so cool, calm, and collected. He was so talented and funny and so, so fine. Of course you would never tell him how much you would say yes to him bending you over if he asked for it.

--

Holding your key in hand, you walk down the stale smelling hallway until you reach your door. You slide the key card into the slot, the door clicks, and you let yourself in.

You're looking at the floor before observing the room, rolling your suitcase into the door. You notice the light is already on and-- "oh my fucking god dude, you scared the shit out of me!"

Noah smirks and gives you a laugh. "Good,"

You blush, and quickly look for something else to look at.

"I know that normally we wouldn't room together," he paused, maybe noticing I was holding my breath. But he continued, "But the hotel was short a room, and we got stuck together last minute." He stopped again.

You nodded, trying to act like you normally do.

"If you're uncomfortable..." He began to say, unsure.

"No, Noah. Not at all. We bunk in the same bus. It's not like we're sleeping together."

There was a small silence that carried on slightly too long.

"Mmm. So, Imma take a shower," you said, ending the conversation with the man you were desperately trying not to want for the sake of your job.

You enter the bathroom, stepping out of your clothes. The door locked behind you, you stare at it and begin to overthink. The tension in your stomach gets you hot when you get the idea. You slowly unlock the door, slowly and silently turning the door handle and leaving the door cracked just a little.

The hot water hits your skin, steam rising into the air. You look at the door, there's nothing there. You shrug. It wouldn't work anyway, there's no way he's even gonna notice.

--

Noah looks down at his phone.

Hey, come get a drink downstairs, we at the bar.

The text from Davis lights up his phone. He texted back,

Yup be down in a minute dude.

Noah gets up from his bed and makes his way to the door, approaching the bathroom. He slows his tracks. Noticing that you had accidentally left the door cracked, Noah reaches out and goes to close the door. He looks up and just by accident, he gets a glimpse of the whole side of you.

You're closing your eyes, caressing yourself with the soap running down your breasts and to your hips. Everything all on display.

He knows that he should look away from you, but my God, the way your hands rub at your skin, his breath hitches and he's glued to his position.

--

After a few minutes of showering, you'd given up the small ounce of hope you had that your nasty fantasy faded and you began to really take a shower.

You applied the soap to your chest and stomach, rubbing the loofah against your skin. You scrubbed at your legs, and then when you glanced up, you almost didn't catch the tall silhouette in the shadow of the hotel room behind him. You did a double take, to make sure he was what you were seeing, and he was.

Your breath picked up. Smirking, you bit your lip and turned away from him. He didn't need to speak, and neither did you. He didn't have to know that you saw him, if he couldn't tell you did. No one in the band or crew needed to know he was in that door frame looking at your wet, naked body. And it's what you wanted.

You began to make every movement you made sexually charged. Pulling your hands over your breasts, you tugged on your nipples. Your fingers caressed and played with your breasts, rubbing the soap into them.

Dragging your fingers down to your navel, you squirmed. How much of a show did you want to give Noah? You decided you wanted him to remember just how hot you got with him standing there.

Not yet looking at him, you turn your back to the door. Rubbing your hands into your ass cheeks, gripping and spreading them only slightly. You bent over as you did this, sure to give him a little sneak peak of what you want him to see very soon.

You see his silhouette shift in the door over your shoulder, just knowing you have him right where you want him.

You turn around, finally letting your hand slide further down, and leaning against the back shower wall, you raise your leg to the ledge of the bath. You finally allow him your gaze and look at him completely as you spread your legs and sink your fingers into yourself, letting a small moan fall from your mouth.

You hear a quiet "Fuck," from the doorway and see his long, tatted fingers grip the door frame, revealing his presence from the shadows.

"Mm. I knew you were there," you said very quietly. He gave no response. You didn't look at him, continuing your movements into your pussy and letting Noah drink in every stroke and buck into your hand.

You continued to fuck onto your hand, gaining confidence under his silent watch. You turned your back to him again, bending over and putting your entire pussy on display for his viewing pleasure. Reaching underneath you, you begin rubbing yourself at a fast pace, small moans falling out of your mouth. You buck back on your hand again when you sink two fingers into yourself. You see Noah's fingers gripping the trim and more of his hand appears from the dark.

You gave him another treat by moaning "fuckkkk," and crying out. You swear you hear a growl from the doorway. The hand falls, palming a desperate hard on, but there's no way he wants what he is seeing to stop.

This was way too hot.

You took your fingers from your heat and placed them in your mouth, looking directly at the doorway. Dragging your hand over your pussy again, you finally lock eyes with his dangerous glinting eyes in the dark.

You insert a finger. "Oh, fuck," you smirk and tease as you talk. You look away, and pretending Noah isn't even there, you put in another finger. "Mmm..." And one more finger, you're brave enough to sigh, "Noahhh..."

At that, he storms into the bathroom. It's no longer a "secret" that he was standing there. His eyes are wicked and wild with a starving desire and he doesn't even hide the hard rise in his sweats. You're so hot and wet already, but it makes you tremble that he's here and has his eyes on your spread heat.

"Fuck..." You trail, gasping through your self assault that you didn't even stop when he surprised you with his barging in. You gasp, a moan coming out through your sentence. "Don't speak. Don't do anything. Just watch me, Noah. Fucking watch me... Please."

He does as you ask. He latches and locks the bathroom door, leaning back on the sink. Noah doesn't say a word. He doesn't touch himself, but his eyes feast on every single inch of you that's available to him.

You continue to touch and tease your body. Your fingers move faster and your heat is wetter with his presence in the room. Your moans are quiet but just loud enough for his ears. You see him run his eyes down your body with a slow lick of his lips.

Under his gaze, your fingers begin to move faster and your gasps come quicker. You're curling your fingers against that spot inside you, arching your back and giving him the best show possible.

"Ah, ah, ah," you chant, "Noah, fuck," you give to him, earning a small and satisfactory "mm." From Noah.

Your eyes roll back. Your hands are making your head spin and your stomach clench under his eyes as you rub your clit and bite your lip. His eyes never give way and stay locked on you. Sparks shoot through your body and your gasps never end. You see stars, your juices flowing down your legs. You're crumpled against the wall and panting.

Noah doesn't speak. He gives you one last burning, hot look, soaking the whole sight and everything that just happened into his mind.

He smirks at you, unlocks the door, and without saying a single word to you, he leaves the bathroom.

--

Noah. Dude. Thought you were coming down?

Text from Davis again.

Sorry man, I accidentally passed out for a minute. Be right there.