nightfurya

[nightfurya]

Sweet Monster P6

Media - Wednesday (Netflix) Couple - Tyler Galpin X Reader Rating - 18 (Blood / Cannibalism / Death) Word Count - 6 min (780) Requested - (Praying I got everyone)

ghostys-craziness - part 6 please? storiesofmyhead - This is soooo good! Part 6!! lilith-7530 - OMG😳 !!!Part 6!!! ifear-myrerefrigerator - Dont you just love it when your Hyde bf just tears apart a man limb from limb ? </3 arianat0221 - Ahh... get him Tyler!! bookfan210 - OH MY GOD, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PART 6?????!!!!! eddies-princess - AHHHHH!!!! 😍🩷 littlerabbitwithwings - Can I be on tag list please? starrynighttimeinthesky - part 6 please?! slytherinroyalty16 - CRASH OUT TYLER!! CRASH TF OUT!!!! kennedyweagle - OMG GIRL YOU CaNT LEAVE US ON A cLIF HANGER!! But damn I loved that 😭😭🥺🥺🤍🤍🤍 m35kbl - I ABSOLUTELY NEED PART 6!!!! moonmark98 - Another part? Please? I'm on my hands and knees begging! Foaming at the mouth! I'll bring cookies? lovely-kitsune-exe - CAN I PLEASE GET ANOTHER ONE THIS IS LITERALLY ALL I HAVE strawberryshortcakebimb0 - Part 6 pleaseee luv234 - Part 6 please moonymoo1 - that guard is gonna get a whooping in part 6 for sure gothicdoctor666-blog - This is seriously getting better and better! IM OBSESSED purplefluffycows - Dude I need a part 6 I beg!! elli4ever - I am so hooked on this series now. And I really, really want to see/read what will happen in Part 6. I love this one so much! cosavuoi-me - Posso essere nella tag list?, ilikefictionmen - Could I get added to the tag list please? mighra - PLEASE add me to the taglist!!(≧∀≦) greensunflowerjuna - Can I please get tagged im so Obsessed with this fic

Sweet Monster - Part One Sweet Monster - Part Two Sweet Monster - Part Three Sweet Monster - Part Four Sweet Monster - Part Five

Immediately, a cacophony of alarms erupted, their blaring wails slicing through the tense atmosphere as red warning beacons pulsed ominously, casting frenzied shadows on the sterile walls. The frantic footsteps of guards echoed down the corridors, their boots hitting the polished floor with urgency, while doctors, faces drawn tight with fear, rushed in a chaotic dash. The sharp clanging of steel locks resounded as they slammed shut, the sound reverberating like an impending doom, an attempt to contain the chaos and ferocity of the Hyde.

The guard’s face went completely pale as he watched Tyler transform, “Ooh fucking hell…” he gasped, his legs trembling as he was completely frozen in the doorway.

The hyde loomed menacingly, its feral gaze fixed on them as it bared its sharp teeth, the sound of its low, guttural snarl reverberating through the damp, stone walls of the cell. For a brief moment that felt like an eternity, He remained frozen in place, heart racing, his face pale and eyes wide with mounting terror. He fidgeted, his grip on the keyring trembling as he slipped further into panic.

Suddenly, with rage fueling his every move, the Hyde sprinted full speed towards the door.

In a mad rush, the guard slammed the door closed just fast enough to seal the cell, before the Hyde reached it. This allowed him a moment to catch his breath in panic, “Okay… that should be safe-” he began,

But before he could even finish his sentence, a bone-chilling screech erupted as metal scraped harshly against metal. The door shuddered violently in its hinges, and then, with a sudden, jarring motion, it was wrenched from the frame and sent flying across the dimly lit cell. Hyde, fueled by raw fury, tore the door apart as if it were nothing more than flimsy paper, sending fragments flying as he hurled it with reckless abandon.

The guard's voice shattered the eerie silence, a piercing scream that echoed off the cold stone walls, as he collapsed to the floor beside Y/n. His face blanched in terror, and a dark stain spread across the fabric of his trousers from his terror.

With a fierce, predatory instinct, the Hyde lunged forward, seizing the guard by the ankle with a grip like iron. The sound of fabric tearing punctuated the struggle as he started to drag the terrified man closer, the guard's frantic attempts to scramble away only fueling the Hyde's relentless pursuit.

“No! No, no, please help me!” He begged his hands stretched out to Y/n, “Nooo no no no no! Please!” he was dragged away from her. He grabbed onto the doorframe in desperation, tears running down his face. But the force of The Hyde’s grip caused his ankle and foot to break, separating with a squelchy sound as bone and flesh separated and spilt blood across the floor. His eyes rolled back as he screamed, almost passing out from shock.

The Hyde pulled the guard closer, hanging the man by his legs. Once face-to-face, the Hyde roared in his face just to terrify him even more. Before dropping him to the floor and beginning to feast while he’s still alive and able to scream.

Y/n sat still, completely frozen, her back against the wall and her legs on the floor. She shivered with fear, but found herself unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but watch the horrific display. She’d never truly seen the Hyde in its fullest of rage’s not with her own eyes at least.

Suddenly, the monstrous figure of Hyde shifted its malevolent gaze from the lifeless body of the guard to Y/n, who sat frozen in a mix of terror and disbelief. A shiver coursed through her body, each nerve ending alight with fear as a soft whimper escaped her throat, her lips trembling uncontrollably like fragile leaves in a storm.

With a primal roar, the Hyde lunged toward her, its eyes glinting with a dark hunger. In a visceral response fueled by panic, Y/n instinctively thrust her hand out in a desperate attempt to shield herself. “Nooo!”

Miraculously, the Hyde came to an abrupt halt, mere inches away from her outstretched palm, its breath heavy and ragged. The air around them crackled with tension as time seemed to freeze, locking them in a moment that hung between them.

The hyde looked over at its back legs, finding its long limbs coiled by thick ivy strands growing taller and tighter around them, leaving the hyde unable to move. Its gaze slowly turned back to the still shivering Y/n.

As she kept her hand out, shaking as she held it, her eyes meeting the monsters’ as firmly as she could. “I said, No, Tyler.”

[nightfurya]

୨୧ ─ taking ‘em all . . .

cw: REQUESTED / SMUT, foursome, (oral m. rec), anal, piv, slight size kink/overstim, pope x jj x reader x john b dynamics.

You’re spread out like a fever dream across JJ’s chest, bare thighs straining where you’re braced over him on all fours, arms shaking from holding yourself up. His cock fills you from underneath, thick and hot, and you can barely process anything but the stretch of it.

Pope’s hovering above, his knees on either side of JJ’s head, guiding himself toward your mouth. And John B’s at your back, hands tight on your hips, cock already nudging your puckered hole, glistening from how wet you’ve gotten just from the prep.

JJ smirks lazily under you, voice slurred with a grin. “Bet you’d look fucking pretty all filled up, huh?”

You’re trembling too hard to reply. John B’s pushes in, slow but not gentle, and it feels like you’re being torn in two. Full in both directions, the pressure unbearable. You choke on Pope, moan around him, hear JJ hiss below when you clench down too hard on his cock.

They’re all making noises now. Pope groans as your mouth opens wider to take him. John B cusses softly, hips working into your ass with the control of someone trying not to lose it. JJ stays quiet, his hands firm on your thighs, grounding you, letting you ride out every inch of stretch from above and below.

The first few strokes are rough. Messy. Overwhelming. And then, rhythm. A fucked-out sync. Pope’s hips bump your mouth shallow and urgent, his moans louder than the rest.

John B rocks into you from behind, one hand hard on your hip, the other wrapped around and on your stomach, feeling the tip of JJ’s cock protuding out.

JJ’s beneath you, just lies there and takes it. Lets it all happen, watches while his thumb lazily strokes over your clit. His breathing’s ragged, his brow furrowed. His cock twitches every time John B drives you down harder onto him.

Then, Pope starts to falter, just slightly, just for a second. But JJ’s hand moves. Reaches up, over Pope’s thighs, then hips, presses lightly over his stomach and then wraps around his cock—stroking him with purpose. Pope shudders violently, thrusts twice more into your mouth, and spills down your throat with a gasp.

He collapses forward, forehead resting against John B’s, who’s grip is harder than ever. Hips rocking into you while his hands push and pull, making you take him impossibly deeper. His hand palms the flesh of your ass a few times before landing a sharp smack against you, making you clench around both him and JJ. He groans against your spine. “Gonna cum,” he pants. “Fuck—fuck—”

One more thrust and he buries himself deep, hips jerking forward as he empties inside you with a broken sound. His hands linger at your hips for a beat, then slide away. He leans forward, presses a kiss to your back, and slowly pulls out, eyes glazed.

JJ’s still inside you. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t let go. Just cups your waist like he’s waiting for something. “You gonna cum with me?” he asks, voice husky.

“JJ,” you whisper. “too much—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” He grinds up into you and you jolt forward, a sob ripped straight from your throat.

“Don’t tap out now, baby,” he says, lower now, like a secret. “Come on. You’re gonna cum with me.”

Your breath catches hard. JJ adjusts beneath you, angles deeper, thumb drifting between your legs, and it’s too much. John B’s cum is already leaking out over your thighs and onto JJ. The mess of it makes it slick, obscene. He rubs slow, precise circles against your clit while fucking up into you with steady, devastating rhythm.

“Full of them and still takin’ me,” he murmurs. “Sweetest girl ever.”

You whimper. He tightens his grip. “You’re mine yeah? They dont get to feel you cum.”

It builds like a tidal wave. Breathless. Crushing. His thumb never lifts, his cock keeps hitting deep, perfect, “That’s it, cum with me,” JJ groans. “Let go for me, baby. Please.”

You break almost instantly. Your whole body seizes as you cum. It’s hard, sudden, blinding. You scream his name, clenching around him, shaking. And JJ lets go at the exact same second, thrusts stuttering as he pours into you, holding you down so tight you’ll feel the bruises tomorrow.

The room feels like it’s spinning. Just breath, and sweat, and the quiet sound of your heart beating in your ears. JJ strokes your hip, almost absentminded. “That’s it,” he mutters, chuckling.

♡ requested by anon for ꒰ ⑅ ๑  𝟗𝟗𝟗 : : RELEASE ꒱

check out my — masterlist / 2k celebration ૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა

[nightfurya]

❦ jj x reader x john b—poly relationship headcannons ❧

warnings: fem reader, chaotic relationship, NSFW themes included, dirty talk, smoking, cursing, smut, i’m personally a slut for boyfriends who are also boyfriends but you can read this however your little heart desires ♡

this relationship is the definition of “two golden retrievers in love w the same girl…and maybe each other”

jj’s the reckless one who asks first, thinks later. john b balances him out, but he’s still there to occasionally encourage the chaos

jj is the first to jump on you when you walk in the door, wrapping you up in a hug that lifts your feet off the ground. john b follows right after, pulling both of you into his chest

if you’re having a bad day, they turn into the most predictable tag-team. jj brings you your favorite snack, john b puts on your comfort show, and neither of them leave your side until you’re smiling again

they have no concept of personal space. jj’s legs draped over your lap, john b bear hugging you from the other side

they’re always hyping each other up when it comes to you. like jj says something filthy about what he wants to do to you later, and john b just smirks and agrees, like, “yeah, she’d look real pretty between us like that”

oh and if you’re trying on a new fit or testing a new makeup look? you got the biggest hype men right behind you, basically high-fiving over how pretty their girl is

when you tease them about how codependent they are, jj flips you off but doesn’t move from where he’s curled into you and john b. john b just smirks, he knows he’s down bad

they love driving you absolutely insane

they text you the most unhinged things when you’re out without them. like “don’t forget who you belong to” and “wear that thong we like under your dress”

they always act innocent when you’re flushed and frustrated, like they didn’t spend the last 10 minutes whispering about how pretty you look when you beg

john b pretends to be the “calm” one until he’s got you pinned under him, low voice in your ear, “you can take it, sweetheart. we’ll go slow this time.” (they never go slow)

when you try to play hard to get, jj gets cocky and john b gets dangerous. like jj’s biting your neck while john b growls, “you wanted our attention, didn’t you?”

jj constantly teases you in public—hand on your thigh, lips brushing your ear, saying shit like “you’re squirming already, baby?” while john b watches with that smug little grin.

john b loves holding your wrists down while jj has his mouth between your legs. “stay still for him, pretty girl”

sometimes they make you pick who you want first. jj gets a little pouty if you choose john b, but he always makes up for it by fucking you even harder after

they love seeing how many times they can make you come before you start crying. jj calls you “messy” while john b kisses your cheeks, murmuring “just one more, baby”

jj’s the more vocal one—talking you through every second, telling you how good you’re doing, how pretty you look with their cocks inside you. john b’s quieter, but when he does talk, it’s in that low, rough voice that makes your whole body ache

you’ve definitely had nights where they take you apart so thoroughly you can’t stand up after, and john b has to carry you to the shower while jj just smirks behind him

when it’s over, they’re all about aftercare—like john b brings you snacks and water after sex, and jj’s the one who gets you dressed while still kissing you between every button

at the end of the day, they’d do anything to keep you safe

jj can be reckless with himself, but never with you. he’ll throw punches over the dumbest shit, but the second he thinks you’re in danger, he goes deadly calm. that’s how you know it’s serious

john b is the planner. if he senses something off—a creepy guy at a party, a boat following too close—he’ll quietly pull you behind him, hand tight on your waist, voice low in your ear, “don’t move, okay?”

they both have this unspoken agreement that if it came down to it, they’d put themselves in harm’s way without a second thought. you’ve seen it happen more than once

they check the locks three times before bed, even if you tease them for being paranoid. jj mutters, “rather be safe than sorry,” and john b just kisses your forehead like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

if anyone ever tried to hurt you, they wouldn’t stand a chance. jj would lose his mind, john b would get that terrifying calm look, and together they’d burn the whole island to the ground

a/n: first time writing poly kinda nervous 😞 no but fr lmk how i did guys—i tried giving both boys their own attention/vibes😭😭

[nightfurya]

jj and john b have been best friends since they were in diapers. they’ve shared bottles, toys, bikes.

as they got older, they shared beers, joints, dirty inside jokes. surfboards and t-shirts.

and eventually, you.

it wasn’t planned, not at first. you were just around—someone’s cousin, someone’s crush, someone’s problem. they passed you between them like they had everything else, until passing turned into keeping, and keeping turned into needing.

they never really talked about it. they didn’t have to. you were theirs in the same way the ocean belonged to them—wild, endless, something they’d drown for without hesitation.

jj and john b know how to share. they know how to take care of you, when to stop bickering, when to stop pushing each other’s buttons and turn that energy on you instead. they know how to drag you out of bed for a sunrise surf, how to pass you a joint without you having to ask, how to kiss you in the kind of way that leaves the other one smirking behind you.

they’ve got a rhythm—jj’s rough hands on your hips, john b’s slow, steady touch on your throat—like they’ve practiced it. like they’ve been building up to it since they were kids.

with them, you’re never split in half. you’re surrounded. jj’s breath is hot against your ear, john b’s mouth is trailing down your spine, their hands moving you where they want you. they talk to each other about you like you’re not even there—what they’re gonna do, who gets what, how they’re gonna make you come first.

you’d think it would make you feel small, but it’s the opposite. it makes you feel claimed. it makes you feel like theirs in every way—sweat-slick, shaking, gasping their names into the dark.

[nightfurya]

Rafe fic,

Rafe makes you record all the times you guys hookup/ you pleasure yourself so he can look back later and got off to the recordings

a/n: 100000% something that he does

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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With the camera fast in his hand, Rafe hovered above you, swiftly reaching down to gather up your legs, efficiently folding your frame in half as you continued to fulfil his wish, before he stroked his fist silkily up and down his throbbing length.

As the patterns you drew over your needy clit caused you to pant, you swiftly whimpered, “please, Rafe.”

“What? What is it?” he smirked, knowing full well what it was you were practically drooling for, “you need this big dick, huh?” he murmured, tapping the hefty weight of himself against your puffy petals, making you nod wildly beneath him as he teased your entrance, zooming in a bit as he recorded your desperation.

And just as you felt his girth slip inside just enough to give you hope, the bright grin swiftly faded from your lips as a curse promptly flowed from his lungs before he pulled back out, only to stomp across the room and situate the camera upon the nearby dresser.

Rushing back with a vengeance, before you had the chance to even squeak, he had buried himself balls deep inside your cunt.

Crushing you down into the mattress below, he grunted, “that’s it,” before he caught both your arms and flung them around his neck, tangling them around him for support before his touch scooped down to cup your ass, lifting you up with him as he rose back up, “fucking take it,” wet smacks filled up the room as he cradled you in his arms, living out his fantasy and making you his personal pornstar, “take it…”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[nightfurya]

Hunter Doohan As Tyler Galpin In Wednesday | The Devil You Woe | 2.02 (2025)

[nightfurya]

Bruce: Why is there a blue turkey going into the house?

Damian: It’s a peacock.

[nightfurya]

Romeo & Juliet (Part 10)

Pairing: Jacob Black x OC!Swan

Word Count: 2354

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 11

Sam took the time to explain the magic in their veins. How a vampire or a group of vampires come to town and stay for some time and their presence activates their genes. They were born to protect the tribe; born to fight the cold ones. Their transformation came with responsibilities that usually bled into their normal lives.

"You don't have to worry about vampires anymore. We'll protect you." Sam had noticed her becoming visibly more anxious when he spoke about vampires. It was evident why. Her first encounter–not counting the Cullens–had left permanent mental scars that would probably never leave her.

Emily had recounted the night she and Kim had found her wandering the empty road in a daze. Sloan had been mentally and physically exhausted. Her arm was broken in a clean fashion. She had been wandering alone for a while.

"You don't have to worry about that vampire anymore." He continued, watching Jacob reach over to hold her hand, "We killed him that day."

Sloan looked bewildered at the thought, pretending not to notice the warmth of Jacob's skin, "He didn't hurt you, did he?" The question was directed to all of the wolves. There were no subtle jabs to their strength, only genuine worry, the wolves found it enduring.

She recalled the vampire's inhumane strength. His maneuver that led the black wolf, one of the people in-front of her, to crash into a tree. It was a petrifying sight, a wolf the size of a horse flying through the air like it weighed absolutely nothing, and it was recovering like it was nothing at all.

Embry beamed, "We heal insanely fast. Nothing can keep us down for too long." He pretended to show off the muscles in his arms.

"Besides," Jared interjected, "We have each other to watch our backs. You have nothing to worry about." He gently patted her head.

"We were made for this." Jacob added, slightly caressing her hand, "We were made to deal with them." There was a slight venom to his voice, not towards her, but towards his mortal enemies. "We'll protect you." His voice sent butterflies to invade her stomach. It wasn't a promise of protection, but an assertion he fully intended to keep.

Emily watched as the boys–her boys–packed around Sloan. Their wolves unconsciously affirm her place in the pack. She had seen this behavior with Kim and herself. They needed to acquaint themselves with Sloan's scent. She was part of the pack now, even if she didn't know it yet. "They appreciate the worry though."

"We do want you to be careful. There's another vampire roaming around. It keeps coming back no matter how many times we've chased her away." Sam didn't reveal it to scare her, but it was information she needed to know. "We don't know what she's after."

Sloan thought back to when she stared down a vampire without even knowing it. His blood red eyes pierced through her being. He had said something to Bella in his elongated speech before he broke her arm, but what was it?

He must've said something important during his lengthy ramble. All she had to do was think. Remove the fear, recall his words. He kept them alive for a reason; a taunt perhaps or a selfish release of guilt.

He referred to it as a mercy kill; explained he was feeling generous and would put an end to Bella. She shook her head. That wasn't it. She had to dig deeper, pushing passed images she'd rather forget. This was important to push herself. She just had to reach deeper in her mind.

She thought in the way the vampire spoke to Bella. He was stunned to have happened across her in the woods like it was by chance. He spoke about her–whoever she was–not being happy with the Cullens, specifically Edward and suddenly it clicked. Her eyes widened as she whispered, "Bella."

Her whisper garnered the attention of the others. "She's after Bella. The Cullens, they did something, killed someone and it pissed them off. They want to kill Bella as an act of revenge."

An eye for an eye, mate for a mate.

The guys pondered on the information, unsure of what to do. She watched as they all turned towards each, waiting for another pack member to ask.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

Sloan nodded, "Positive. The vampire, he said so, before he broke my arm. I didn't piece it together then, I thought he was talking in riddles. But the Cullens killed someone important to her. A mate."

"He didn't hunt us down. He stumbled upon us by chance. He was tasked to get a lay on the land, but he found us instead. He said it would be merciful." She explained.

Paul let out a guffaw, "Just another problem we have to fix."

Jacob just watched her in absolute devotion like he was mesmerized by her. He wasn't acting like the others, who wore worried expressions, instead he looked captivated. "You're amazing, Sloan." He muttered.

Red infiltrated her cheeks as all the attention was on her. She had pieced together their problem without a hitch. She had done so all on her own. She didn't have to share anything with them, but that's the type of person she was; helpful, generous, gentle. She didn't deserve to be forced into this world, but something kept tugging her closer and she couldn't quite put it into words. She was never meant to be this close to the supernatural, but somehow with the pack she felt more at home.

Sam thanked her before lending a helping hand to Emily. He carefully handled each muffin before placing it in an unused donut box. She counted them carefully, ensuring a dozen were in each box, before closing it.

"I know this is a lot to process. Trust me, I was in your shoes before." Emily said softly, "But we really need to start heading out. Kim's fundraiser is about to start and I want to make sure all the muffins get there uneaten."

Sloan was one of the first to stand up from her seat. The others followed suit shortly after except for one: Jared. She saw how love-struck he became once Kim's name was spoken. It was like her name spell-bound him to his seat. She could see all the love he carried for her and only her.

She hoped one day she'd find that type of love. She wanted someone to daydream of her when she wasn't near and get excited at the mere thought of seeing her. It was the type of love that was rare. Golden. Magnificent. A once in a lifetime happenstance.

There was still a warmth wrapped around her hand. A connection so intricate she couldn't quite put into words. Jacob hadn't let go of her hand and for that she was grateful. She didn't know if she'd collapse if he pulled away. He drew thoughts that were buried deep into her psyche; towed emotions that spurred in her stomach banishing any uncertainty of the situation she'd found herself in.

It was akin to being transported into a disparate world with outward similarities, but it adhered to specific rules solely meant for one. However, it wasn't a different world. It only felt like one. She was stuck learning rules she hadn't known existed, but somehow it felt manageable.

She wasn't stuck shouldering everything on her own, she wasn't stuck replaying scenarios to try to distinguish if they were real or not, she wasn't kicked to the curb. Instead she was welcomed with open arms even if the secrets were not meant for her and Jacob's presence was refreshing in the world she found herself in. He kept her anchored without even knowing it.

She found herself not wanting to separate her hand from his and some part of her wished to always be able to hold his hand, but Emily needed help and the boys had gone off to change into something more suitable for the occasion.

She hesitantly released it, her hand falling to her side, as an emptiness began to form and his warmth began to fade. Her hand was becoming cold and she found herself craving to reach for it again, but stilled herself instead.

When she was finally able to control her body, she forced herself to help Emily with the boxes. Emily had two muffin-filled boxes in her hands and there were many boxes that needed to be carried. She picked up two that were closest to her, noting how Jacob stayed firmly at her side. He lugged around four boxes in close proximity to her.

"Are you sure you want to take that many?" Sloan asked. Sam had explained their increased strength, but strength means nothing in the face of gravity. Emily had worked hard to make those muffins from scratch and she'd be destroyed if four of those boxes fell onto the ground.

Jacob laughed, "This is a piece of cake."

He strutted around with the boxes, his foot getting caught on one of the chair's legs, and tumbled forward. The scene felt like it was in slow motion for a second before he caught himself and the muffins.

"Jacob!" Emily shrieked.

He recovered, showing the boxes were unharmed, before saying, "Ta-da!" He let out one of the biggest smiles she had ever seen filled with so much faux innocence.

Sloan let out several giggles.

"What did I tell ya!"

"Please be careful." Emily sent a worrying glance at Jacob.

"Sorry, Em."

"You were almost defeated by a chair." Sloan let out as more giggles followed.

He beamed trying to contain his own laughter before pointing out, "But I wasn't. I reigned supreme."

Sloan added, "Must not be that strong or powerful if a chair can almost take you out."

"It sneak attacked me." Jacob retorted. "I was ambushed."

"All I'm hearing is excuses."

The rest of the boys returned dressed accordingly for the fundraiser. Sam quietly took the boxes from Emily's hands while the others gathered the rest of the boxes.

The boys were the first ones out of the cabin. "We're going walking." Emily told her, "Let's hope all the muffins make it to the fundraiser. The boys have big appetites."

"Really?" Sloan asked.

"Being wolves takes a lot out of them." She explained, "They burn a lot of calories. That's why most of them have a second dinner at my house. It's easier than explaining away their powers."

"Do their parents not know?" Sloan knew that almost all of the boys were still teenagers even with their large build. She would've thought their parents would still be informed about their new responsibilities. It was the tribe after all.

Emily shook her head, "Not all. Some aren't lucky enough to have their guardians be a member of the tribal council."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. She could never imagine holding back a crucial part of herself from her father. Being wolves had become a pivotal part of who the boys were and to be shrouded with secrecy must've been harrowing. It was something she would never understand. Her life, if her sister decided not to pursue a vampire, would've remained relatively untouched.

Kim's fundraiser was being held at the Akalat Center. It was a big rustic building with several cars parked in the parking lot. She had never been inside the building before. It had served as a gymnasium for the tribal school, but now it was used for providing free services such as memorials, fundraisers, and potlatches.

Sloan just followed behind the guys as they strolled through the building. They led her into a large room where tables were still being set up with handmade wooden carvings, woven baskets, and fish lures. Everyone smiled at the group before continuing to piece together their stations. The guys gently placed the boxes onto one of the empty tables when someone called out for their attention.

"Guys, you're here!" A lean figure sprinted towards them. Their footsteps echoing throughout the room. Jared held out his arms, bracing himself for the impact, as the figure crashed into him. He quickly spun them around in his arms laughing.

Paul pretended to be nauseous at the sight while Sam and Emily continued to set the table to look more pleasing. The others outright ignored the demonstrative sight.

Once Jared stopped spinning the girl, she turned to the others, "I'm so glad you guys are here! It's been so busy. I feel like throwing up, but also a bit excited? Strangely, enough. I hope everything goes according to plan. It needs to be perfect."

Sloan barely recognized the girl, Kim Connweller, the girl who also saved her that night. Kim brought a sense of joy to everyone around her, even to strangers like herself. She just radiated happiness and excitement.

When Kim noticed her in the background, she stopped immediately, her form shifting from lively to attentive. "Sloan." She said her name more as a sympathetic whisper. "You're here."

"My dad wanted to help out." Sloan word vomited. Why did I say that? She cursed herself for having a Bella moment. Bella's awkwardness came in full swing for Sloan. She wanted the world to swallow her up right then and there.

"We brought her here." Emily added.

"Well, I'm glad you're here." She clapped before moving close to her, "Have you tried Emily's muffins? They are divine." Kim acted like they've been friends for a while. She chose to ignore the elephant in the room and for that Sloan was grateful.

Kim effortlessly spoke about Emily's superior baking skills. How she would sometimes read stories to the younger members of the tribe. There was a certain air around Kim that made Sloan feel mellow. It was like their souls were intertwined together in some way. Kindred spirits, of sorts, it was nothing like she felt with Bella, it was somehow more deeper than that, but she could chalk it up to their failing connection; but whatever it was felt right.

Main Masterlist

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @magical-spit @thelastemzy @kammsinn @slowlyshycomputer @dilfsandtherapy

[nightfurya]

everything's growing in our garden

jason todd x wife! reader

synopsis: Jason comes back from patrol with a baby and soot in his hair. He never thought he deserved anything good, but you build something soft anyway.

words: 3.8k

warnings: crying baby. no use of y/n

---

The building is coming down around him.

Smoke curls like claws through the stairwell, the air thick with heat and sirens and screaming — but none of it matters. Not really. Not since he heard the crying.

He kicks down the last door on the left. Inside: scorched drywall, a mattress half on fire, and—

There.

Curled in the corner like a forgotten blanket. No older than a few weeks, swaddled in soot, mouth open and wailing. Eyes wild. Reaching.

Jason doesn’t think. Doesn’t breathe.

Just moves.

He’s across the room in three steps. Drops to his knees. Checks the baby over with hands he can’t make stop shaking. No visible burns. Still breathing. Covered in ash.

The moment he lifts him, the baby latches onto his flak vest with tiny, furious fingers.

Won’t let go.

Jason’s heart punches his ribs.

"Hey, hey," he rasps, trying to make his voice gentle. “Got you. I got you.”

A beam groans above them. He doesn’t wait. Tugs his jacket off and wraps it around the baby like armor. One hand under the neck. One against his chest. Head down. Go.

Out the hall. Down the fire escape. Through the smoke.

The baby doesn’t cry anymore. Just holds on.

And Jason?

Jason runs like hell.

—

You are not expecting a baby tonight.

In fact, the only things on your to-do list are:

Recharge.

Hydrate.

Kiss your hot husband when he gets home from his nightly war on Gotham’s crime statistics.

You are currently achieving two out of three. Your AirPods hum low-fi jazz into your ears, and the cucumbers on your eyelids are starting to slip down your cheekbones. Somewhere across the apartment, your diffuser is puffing lavender-scented clouds into the air like a sleepy little train. You smell like a coconut-sugar candle and your nails are drying. Life is good.

You’re just starting to doze off when the window clicks open.

Of course. Jason never uses the damn door.

You expect the usual: a grunt, a dropped helmet, maybe a kiss pressed to your forehead before he stumbles into the shower.

Instead, what you get is smoke. Soot. A strangled cry.

You sit up.

Cucumber slices slide down your cheeks and onto your hoodie. One AirPod clatters to the couch cushion. Your husband is standing in the middle of the living room, soot-streaked and wide-eyed, holding a bundled shape in his arms like it might vanish if he so much as blinks.

You stare at him.

Then at the bundle.

Then at him again.

“…Jason,” you say slowly. “That is a baby.”

“I know,” he blurts. “I know. I just—I didn’t think, okay? I saw him and I—”

“Jason.”

He takes two steps forward, the bundle squirming weakly in his arms. There’s a tiny, high-pitched hiccup. The shape shifts and reveals a round, red-blotched face, mouth open in the start of another wail. Soot clings to chubby cheeks. 

Jason looks wrecked. More than usual. Helmet hair, bruised, a tear down the seam of his jacket. His arms are trembling.

“There was a fire. A ring. The bastards were running kids out of Crime Alley and I—he was just there. Crying. Everyone else gone. And he grabbed me. Grabbed my glove like he wasn’t letting go, and I just—” His voice breaks. “I saw myself for a second. Just. I moved. I didn’t think. I couldn’t leave him.”

You blink. A slow breath leaves your lungs.

“Come here,” you say, voice soft.

Jason hesitates. “Sweetheart—”

“I said come here.”

He obeys, like he always does when your voice dips into that tone.

You reach for the baby.

Your fingers graze the edge of the jacket and pause. The baby’s eyes flutter up. Red, watery, still in panic mode, but he looks at you. Just for a second.

You smile. “Hi there,” you whisper, more breath than words.

And then, gently, you ease the baby out of Jason’s arms.

He goes without a fight. The baby whimpers, grabbing your shirt with one sooty fist, and tucks himself into your chest with the kind of blind trust that makes your throat ache.

You sway a little, automatically. Muscle memory from a life you never thought you’d need.

“You did the right thing,” you say.

Jason’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His chest rises like he’s about to sob and collapse all at once.

“Breathe, Jay,” you tell him. “In. Out. Again.”

He listens.

One breath. Then another. Then a shuddering sigh.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he whispers.

“You brought him home,” you say simply. “That’s what you did.”

He swallows.

“Go shower. You’re bleeding. You smell like fire.”

“I can help—”

“You will. But after you shower.”

Jason hesitates. “We don’t even have wipes or—”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the Red Hood. You own three brands of baby wipes. You said they’re the only thing that gets the powder residue off your guns.”

He squints. “You said you wouldn't make fun of that anymore”

“Go. Shower. We’ll be here.” Jason shoots you a grateful look and then turns to go to the washroom after promising the baby he’ll be back. 

You settle onto the floor with the baby curled against your chest, sitting cross-legged by the coffee table like this is any other Tuesday night and not a total deviation from reality. Your fingers are already moving before your brain catches up, brushing soot from his forehead, rocking him in slow, instinctual sways.

He’s hiccuping. Sharp little spasms that jolt through his tiny body, each one punctuated by a shaky breath and a soft, broken sound from the back of his throat.

Your heart squeezes.

“Shhh,” you whisper, rocking a little more. “I know. I know, sweetheart. We’re gonna fix it, okay? You’re safe now.”

The baby wipes, Jason’s fancy, unscented ones, sit in the middle of the table like some cosmic joke. You grab them with one hand and ease the little boy into your lap with the other.

He blinks up at you, lashes crusted with ash, lips trembling. You think he’s trying to cry again, but he’s too tired. Instead, he lets out a low, wheezy whimper that turns into another hiccup, and you feel it all the way through you.

“I know,” you murmur. “Big day, huh?”

You unwrap Jason’s jacket that's been wrapped around the baby slowly, piece by piece. It’s warm from his body heat, and the baby makes a small sound of protest as the cooler air hits his skin.

“Oh, I know, I know,” you croon, voice going higher and softer without you meaning to. “Almost done. Let’s get you all cleaned up, little guy.”

What’s left of his onesie is charred at the edges, barely clinging to one shoulder. You tug at it carefully, apologizing every time the fabric catches. He doesn’t seem to notice. His hands are curled into little fists, still clutching invisible threads.

You grab the first wipe and start gently, his forehead, soft and warm, dotted with grime. You trace along his eyebrows, then sweep carefully down the bridge of his nose. Each stroke is featherlight, the kind you might use for glass.

He hiccups again, but it’s quieter this time.

“There you go,” you whisper. “See? Not so bad.”

You work your way down. Cheeks, chin, neck. There’s a smudge of blood near his ear that you clean with extra care. Not his, thankfully. His arms are sticky, tiny fingers coated in smoke and something that might have been applesauce at some point.

You talk the whole time.

Not because he understands, but because you need it. Because it keeps your hands steady. Because if this baby is going to live in your world now, then he deserves to hear words that are soft and steady and safe.

“You’re doing so good,” you say as you clean under his chin. “Brave little man. Bet you didn’t think you’d end up in a vigilante’s living room tonight, huh?”

He blinks, hiccups again. Then lets out a slow, shuddery sigh.

That’s the first time he really settles.

Not asleep, not yet. But no longer vibrating with fear. His hands uncoil a little. One of them smacks softly against your chest, fingers opening and closing. Grabbing. Seeking.

You let him wrap them around the drawstring of your hoodie.

“Got me?” you whisper. “Yeah. I’ve got you too.”

You work your way down to his belly, where there’s more ash than baby skin, and clean it in little circles. His legs twitch when you get to his feet. He lets out a hiccuping noise that might almost be a laugh.

You smile, watery and wide.

“Ticklish, huh? I’ll remember that.”

Once he’s clean, or as clean as he can be, you reach behind you for the towel you spotted earlier, fresh and fluffy from laundry day. You lay it out on your lap and ease him into it slowly, like wrapping a present made of porcelain.

He doesn’t cry. Doesn’t protest.

Just lets you fold the corners around him and pull him close.

You lift him again, now swaddled and warm and smelling like Jason’s baby wipes. His cheek presses to your shoulder. One final hiccup rattles out of him, soft and damp.

Then stillness.

You stroke a hand down his back and feel his breathing even out, the rhythm finally syncing with yours.

“See?” you whisper. “We’re okay.”

You hold him like that for a long time, rocking gently, chin resting atop his head. His grip on your hoodie string tightens once more, like he knows this is something new, something he doesn’t have a name for yet, but he wants to keep it.

You kiss the top of his head, right over a little fuzz of hair.

“Welcome to the world, baby boy,” you murmur. “Let’s make it better than the one you came from.”

You hear the bathroom door creak open before you see him. He appears in the doorway, soft footsteps, damp hair dripping onto his shirt, a slight limp that he’s trying (and failing) to hide. He’s in one of his plain black tees and a pair of sweats that hang low on his hips, clean for the first time in hours.

But he looks older.

Not just tired, aged. Like whatever he saw in that warehouse tonight carved something new into his bones. His shoulders are hunched. His hands tremble at his sides. He’s blinking too much, like the light hurts.

You don’t say anything. Not yet.

You’re still on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, and the baby, your baby now apparently, is curled into your chest, wrapped in the fluffy towel, finally calm. One chubby fist clings to your hoodie drawstring. His little mouth hangs open slightly, breath puffing soft and warm against your collarbone.

Jason sees the two of you and stops like he’s been gut-punched.

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

You meet his eyes.

“Well,” you say softly, “you missed bath time.”

He swallows. His voice, when it comes, is hoarse. “You look…natural.”

“Do not make a MILF joke right now,” you warn him.

His lip twitches. Not quite a smile. But almost.

He crosses the room slowly, barefoot and silent, and sinks onto the coffee table across from you, elbows on his knees. His eyes don’t leave the baby. You watch his fingers flex, twitch, then curl into fists against his thighs.

He’s still shaking.

You shift the baby slightly so he’s more visible. “He’s clean now,” you murmur. “Mostly soot. One scratch. Nothing serious.”

Jason nods, jaw clenched tight.

“Want to hold him?”

He blinks. “I—I’ll drop him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m not—he’s so small. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You look at him. Really look at him. The man who faced death a hundred times, the man who ran into fire tonight without flinching. He’s more afraid of this baby than he ever was of a bullet.

“You okay, Ma?” he asks, voice low.

“Jay,” you say gently. “Meet your son.”

Jason sucks in a breath.

You shift the baby carefully, transferring the little bundle into his arms. Jason’s muscles go taut. You guide his hands. One behind the neck. One under the towel. The baby stirs a little, but does not wake.

Jason just stares.

“Our son,” he says quietly. Then, softer, like it costs him something: “You’re already better at this than me, Ma.”

“Not a competition.”

“If it was, you’d be winning.”

You smile. “Let me know when you’re ready for diaper duty.”

He doesn’t laugh. His throat bobs.

“He held onto me,” Jason says. “When I picked him up. Like he was already used to me. Like he knew.”

“He probably did,” you reply. “You’re loud.”

“Sweetheart.”

You glance at him, lips twitching.

He looks back, eyes full of something you don’t have a name for, and murmurs, “You’re killing me here.”

You grin. “Good.”

He snorts, and the sound breaks something in both of you.

You pull a small notepad from the coffee table and hand it to him. Folded. Torn out with care. You made the list while he was in the shower, one-handed, with the baby hiccuping on your chest.

Jason takes it with one hand, still awkwardly cradling the baby in the other.

He unfolds it.

Formula (small can to test for allergies) Bottles (with the little slow-flow nipple things) Diapers (Get all from size newborn to size 3 just to be sure) Wipes (unscented, non-alcohol) Pacifier (whatever brand looks trustworthy) Blanket

He stares at it for a second.

Then he says, “You’re terrifying when you’re calm.”

“You said that already.”

“Still true.”

He glances up. “You sure you’ll be okay here?”

You raise a brow. “I just cleaned a crime scene off a one-month-old with gun wipes and wrapped him in a bath towel. I think I’ve earned your trust.”

Jason exhales, slow and shaky. He leans down, presses the gentlest kiss to the baby’s forehead. Then one to your temple.

“I’ll be back in ten,” he says, voice gruff. “Don’t let him grow up without me.”

“No promises,” you say, already pulling the baby back into your arms. “He’s learning fast. Got a strong grip.”

He grabs his keys and is halfway out the window before you call out, “Hey!”

He pauses.

“You’re doing good,” you tell him.

He looks over his shoulder, silhouetted by the streetlight behind him.

“Only ‘cause I’ve got you” he says.

Then he disappears into the night.

You look down at the baby, who is still fast asleep, tiny chest rising and falling like the most fragile promise.

“Well,” you whisper. “That went okay.”

The baby grunts.

You take that as agreement.

–

You and the baby were doing okay for a while.

After Jason left, you wrapped the baby a little tighter in the towel and curled up on the couch with him tucked against your chest. The apartment was warm, quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional rustle of the blanket nest you’d made. You could feel the baby’s little breaths on your collarbone: slow, sleepy, steady.

You thought maybe you’d both doze off.

But then he shifted.

Just a little.

His head tilted back, eyes blinking open. Still a little glazed from fatigue, but alert now. Searching.

And you watched him look around the room.

His gaze skipped past the shelves, the ceiling, the lamp. It wasn’t random. It wasn’t newborn twitchy nonsense. He was looking.

Your chest squeezed.

“Yeah,” you whispered, brushing a thumb along his cheek. “I miss him too.”

The baby let out a soft sound. Not quite a cry. Just a broken little whimper, like something in his tiny chest had snapped loose.

And then came the tears.

Big, hiccupy sobs, full of confusion and exhaustion and something too big for his little body to hold. His face scrunched. His fists clenched in the towel. He started wailing like his heart was breaking.

And somehow, that was the thing that undid you.

You tried. You really did. You held him, rocked him, whispered, “Shh, baby, shh, he’ll be back soon,” over and over again.

But your voice wobbled. Your throat tightened. And somewhere between one sob and the next, your own tears started falling.

You’re still crying when the window opens.

You don’t look up at first. You just whisper, “Jay?” like maybe you’ve imagined him, like maybe you’ve gone soft with shock and longing.

But then—

That’s when the window bangs open again.

You jump, clutching the baby tighter, but then—

“Sweetheart,” Jason breathes, breathless and wind-chapped and bag-laden, “I’m back. I got it all. I—holy shit, are you crying?”

“No,” you sniff, snuggling the baby closer. “We’re both crying.”

Jason’s face crumples. He’s across the room in two strides, bags thunking to the floor.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, crouching in front of you. “It was ten minutes. What happened?”

“He missed you,” you whisper, gesturing at the baby. “I missed you.”

Jason leans forward and kisses your forehead, your cheek, your temple, like he’s trying to seal the cracks. “I’m here now. Okay? You’re not doing this alone.”

The baby lets out one last watery squeak before going quiet, little fists still clinging to your hoodie strings like they’re lifelines.

Jason exhales hard. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

He scoops the bags off the floor and starts unloading: bottles, formula, wipes, a six-pack of tiny diapers, a giraffe pacifier, and, somehow, a stuffed penguin wearing a bowtie.

“I panicked,” he says when you lift an eyebrow at the penguin. “He looked trustworthy.”

You laugh, a little teary still, and set the baby down gently on the blanket-nest you made on the couch. “Okay. You want bottle or diaper?”

Jason eyes the baby warily. “I’ll take diaper. Can’t mess that up too bad, right?”

You make a noise that is not confirmation and head to the kitchen to figure out formula.

Behind you, Jason crouches over the baby like he’s defusing a bomb. “Alright, little man. Let’s not make this weird.”

You’re measuring formula powder into the bottle when you hear a yelp.

“Did he pee on you?”

“Direct hit.”

You bite back a snort. “Wipes are next to you.”

Jason mutters a prayer to whatever gods govern newborn hygiene and starts cleaning up. You screw the bottle lid on and flick the kettle on to heat a little water.

A minute later, you yelp and yank your hand back.

“Babe?” Jason says, halfway through taping the diaper.

“Burned my finger,” you say, holding it under cool water. “He better appreciate this. Formula smells like wet chalk.”

Jason is quiet for a second. You look over and shout out, “You okay?”

“I’m fine. You?”

You glance down at your finger, still under cool water, then over at him, on the floor in front of the couch, legs splayed awkwardly, baby wrapped in a blanket in his lap like something sacred and possibly radioactive.

“I’ve never been better,” you say.

You mean it.

Jason searches your face, like he doesn’t quite believe you yet. But you watch the tension in his shoulders loosen, just a little. The kind of shift that says okay, we can breathe now. Just for a minute.

You dry your hands on your hoodie and grab the warm bottle from the counter. “Alright, Jay,” you say gently, “feeding time.”

He adjusts the baby in his arms slowly, carefully. Like he’s still convinced one wrong move will make the kid detonate. But the baby just blinks up at him, quiet now, eyes big and glassy.

You lean in, helping Jason guide the bottle toward the baby’s mouth. “Remember what the video said? Just enough tilt to keep the nipple full.”

“Like a fuel injector,” he mutters, which is a sentence that absolutely does not belong here and yet somehow fits perfectly.

Then softly, hesitantly the baby latches.

Jason freezes.

And then the baby starts drinking.

A tiny sound, halfway between a slurp and a sigh, escapes his mouth as he settles in, hands curled against Jason’s shirt like he’s staking a claim.

Jason’s voice is barely audible. “He’s eating.”

You press your shoulder against his. “You’re feeding him.”

“Holy shit.”

You laugh. “Exactly what the baby was thinking, I’m sure.”

The room is so still. Gotham hums beyond the windows with distant sirens, the occasional horn, but inside, it’s just the three of you. Just this quiet miracle.

The baby drinks slowly, pausing now and then to blink up at Jason. There’s something so trusting in that look, like he already knows this is his person. Like he knew the moment soot-covered arms scooped him from the wreckage.

You rest your head on Jason’s shoulder. He leans into you instinctively.

“I thought I broke everything I touched,” he says quietly.

“You didn’t break him.”

He looks down again, awe softening the edges of his face. “No. I didn’t.”

When the bottle’s almost empty, you pull back gently. “Okay. Now for part two.”

Jason squints at you. “Part two?”

“Burping. Remember the video?”

Jason blinks. “Oh God.”

You laugh. “Don’t panic. We’ve got this.”

You lift the baby from his arms and place him carefully against your shoulder, one hand supporting the back of his head, the other patting his back in slow, rhythmic taps.

Jason watches like it’s surgery.

“Not too hard,” he murmurs. “Not too soft. Just right.”

“What is he, a porridge?”

“I swear—”

And then the baby lets out a very small, very proper burp.

You both freeze.

Jason’s mouth drops open. “That was—he—he did it.”

You beam. “He did it.”

“No you did it. You’re the baby whisperer.”

You lower the baby back down, curled against your chest now, heavy with milk and sleep and trust.

Jason reaches out and brushes a single finger down the baby’s back. His hand is so big next to that tiny body, but the touch is impossibly gentle.

“He looks like he’s already dreaming,” Jason whispers.

You nod, watching the baby’s eyelids flutter. “I hope it’s something soft.”

A pause. Then:

“What do you think he dreams about?” Jason asks.

You smile. “Right now? Probably warm bottles. And maybe you.”

Jason’s quiet for a beat too long.

You glance over.

He’s staring at you.

Like the world just narrowed down to you and the sleeping baby and the way your voice wraps around both of them like a blanket.

“I really love you,” he says softly.

You blink.

“Say it again.”

“I love you”

You smile. You tilt your head until your temple touches his.

“Back at you.”

The baby lets out one last sigh and goes completely still.

You and Jason don’t move. You just sit there, watching the baby sleep, your arms wrapped around the beginning of something new. Something that still smells like formula and burnt fingers and trust.

And the thing is?

You’re not scared.

Not even a little.

[nightfurya]

Sweet Monster P5

Media - Wednesday (Netflix) Couple - Tyler Galpin X Reader Rating - 17 Word Count - 10 min 33 sec (1370) Requested - (Praying I got everyone, there were so many I did my best)

bookfan210 - OMG!!!!!! PLEASE PLEASE PART 5, I’M OBSESSED!!!!! slytherinroyalty16 - Just binge read this. PLEASE I NEED MORE!!! I NEED TO SEE THE MONSTED AND THE FAIRY TOGETHER 😫😫 historias22 - i need part 5. pleaseeeee!!! m35kbl - HUN AGAIN I ABSOLUTELY NEED PT 5 lilith-7530 - Can't wait for the next part♡♡♡😊😩 cosavuoi-me - Posso essere nella tag list?, necessito di un part 5 lovely-kitsune-exe - There needs to be a tag list and I need to be on it<3!!! kennedyweagle - Omg I NEED more!!! HOLY FUCK I LOVE THIS eddies-princess - You missed me but I'm obsessed so I came to check and see if another one came out while I was at work. ilikefictionmen - Could I get added to the tag list please? lilinolea - please give us a part five, i beg youu ... mighra - PLEASE add me to the taglist!!(≧∀≦) greensunflowerjuna - Can I please get tagged im so Obsessed with this fic ghostys-craziness - Pleeeeeease make a part 5! yikesdkkemensksow - Part five part five gothicdoctor666-blog - Omg part 5 please! Your writing is absolutely incredible!!

Sweet Monster - Part One Sweet Monster - Part Two Sweet Monster - Part Three Sweet Monster - Part Four

The following weeks were an agonising struggle for Tyler. During the first week, he was on edge, snapping at his therapist with a bitterness that shocked them. His eyes were always darting around, and he clenched his fists as if ready to fight anyone who dared to approach him. Each time a guard came near, he threatened them with heated words, his voice low and menacing, reflecting the deep-seated anger and fear he grappled with. The sterile environment of the facility felt suffocating, amplifying his sense of isolation and despair. The slightest provocation could send him into a frenzy, as evidenced by the way he lunged at the delivery person the moment his food was placed before him. The anticipation of Thursday always filled him with a mix of excitement and dread, but this week was different—Y/n never arrived.

A sense of panic gripped him, his heart racing and his fury bubbling just beneath the surface. The absence of his beloved sweet little fairy left him feeling utterly desolate, as if a crucial piece of his world had been snatched away. He longed for her comforting presence, for the gentle way she brought light into his otherwise chaotic existence. Yet deep down, he understood it wasn’t her fault; a realisation that they had taken her from him, and that thought consumed him with heartbreak. The following week was a harrowing experience for him; his fury simmered just beneath the surface, erupting like a volcano at the slightest provocation. He lashed out at anyone who dared to speak to him, their mere presence igniting a fiery rage that left them bewildered and hurt. To make matters worse, his collar, a device meant for control, became a source of torment, delivering sharp shocks each time he approached the door.

By the time Thursday rolled around again, with no sign of Y/n's familiar presence, a different sensation began to wash over him. Weakness seeped into his bones, and the walls he had constructed felt heavier. The anger that once fueled him began to fade, leaving behind a profound longing. All he could think about was the warmth of her smile and the comfort of her voice. He simply wanted to see her again, to feel the spark of connection that had been his lifeline, now replaced by an aching solitude.

He spends all day, every day, curled up on his unmade bed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutches his chubby little frog plush close to his chest. The soft, worn fabric of the toy provides a semblance of comfort, almost becoming an extension of himself in his desperate moments. Frustration and despair bubble to the surface as he screams at the indifferent doctors and stern guards, pleading for them to let him see her, his voice echoing off the sterile, grey walls of the hospital room. Each sob feels like a weight on his chest, as he longs for the warmth of her presence, for a glimpse of the familiar face that he misses so deeply.

But still, as if in an act of cruelty, they kept her from him for a whole other week.

Finally, three weeks after Tyler last saw Y/n, the door opened.

The two usual guards matched in, Tyler locked eyes with the taller man, knowing what he’d last done when she visited. They came over and chained his hands up to the wall once more,

The guard chuckled, “You’re little lady’s here.”

Tyler didn’t do anything but glare,

“She’s devoted, she’s come every Thursday.”

That broke his heart, to know Y/n still came every week only to be turned away by the hospital staff. “You’re cruel.”

“Cruel? I can be far worse.”

Tyler grunted and pulled at his chains,

He scoffed and slowly headed out of Tyler’s cell.

Tyler sighed deeply, trying to shake off the tension that had been building inside him. He focused on his breathing, attempting to anchor himself in the moment. Yet, the instant the door creaked open, an electric thrill coursed through him, quickening his heartbeat.

Y/n stepped into the room with effortless elegance. She wore sturdy boots that clacked lightly against the floor, green fishnets decorated with delicate ivy leaves. The brown plaid pleated knee-length skirt swayed gently as she walked, the fabric catching the light and giving it a warm, inviting glow. Her crisp white blouse peeked out from under a soft green cardigan that hugged her figure just right.

Her hair was styled in two low, playful buns, with loose strands framing her face. As she caught sight of Tyler, her eyes sparkled, and her wide smile lit up the room, washing away his anxieties in an instant.

He broke into the widest smile of his life, tears welling up in his eyes, “M-My sweet little fairy,” He choked,

“My sweet monster,” she cooed,

As soon as the heavy door swung shut behind her with a resounding thud, she darted across the dimly lit room and enveloped him in a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around his torso with unwavering urgency. She disregarded the jagged scars that adorned his skin and the sweat that made him slick.

Tyler let out a soft whimper, raw emotions spilling forth as tears streamed down his cheeks. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo mingled with the faint scent of hope. In that moment, he strained against the cold metal chains binding him, yearning to touch her fully. His fingertips brushed gently against her shoulders, each light caress a testament to the desperate longing that surged within him, a silent plea for comfort amidst the darkness that surrounded them.

“I missed you,” she smiled against his skin,

“You’d never even comprehend how badly I’ve missed you,” He whined, “five hundred hours without you… It's incomprehensible.”

“They haven’t treated you too badly, have they?” She met his eyes, her own full of fear and concern,

“I get to see you again. I don’t care what they did to me.”

“You are so sweet,” she smiled, hugging him once more,

He smiled and lay his head against her hair, inhaling her scent, taking in the softness of her clothes and her skin against him. “Do you think my fairy could… give me one of those magical kisses? Since I’ve waited so long for them.”

Y/n chuckled, “Of course, my monster gets all the kisses he wants,” she cooed, resting her hands in his, moving to her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his,

Tyler happily tightened his grip on her hands. He kissed her back as gently as he could, even if he wanted to push her to the floor with kisses. But he kept the kisses slow and sweet, as long as he could.

“That’s time, love birds,” the guard scoffed as he opened the door,

Tyler growled as they moved away from Y/n’s lips, “That was not five minutes.”

“New rules. You only get two.”

“I get five minutes, and if you take her a second before swear I-”

“Tyler…” Y/n cut him off, “Please, it’s okay. I’ll be back next week.”

“But two minutes… how can I bear that being all the time I have with you?” he whimpered,

“Any time is better than nothing, isn’t it?” she pleaded,

He sighed, squeezing her hand. “You’re right, I’ll see you next week, my sweet little fairy.”

“See you soon, my sweet monster.” She cooed, leaning up so they could share a sweet kiss goodbye,

“That’s enough, come on, little lady!” The guard complained, grabbing Y/n by the shoulders and pulling her from Tyler’s grip so hard that she screamed and tumbled to the ground beyond his cell door, ripping her tights as she fell.

Tyler’s rage completely boiled over as he heard her scream, his eyes stared down the guard, his cheek twitching, his teeth baring. Immediately, from his heart racing and anger building, his collar began to spark and shock him, but he was too far gone to even feel it anymore.

It was too late… they had pushed him too far by taking Y/n from him.

“What the-” The guard gasped as his eyes fell to Tyler, watching as he broke the chains that restrained him, “Ohh shi- Code red! Code red!” He shouted, “The hyde is out. Repeat. The HYDE IS OUT!” 

[nightfurya]

🪻| pick one?

Heyyyy…. How yall doin….. 🌚- says @purplifield after more than a year of inactivity

Tyler Galpin x reader; implied Xavier Thorpe x reader

KW; kind of angry sex, oral- f receiving, restricted movements, slight overstim, unprotected/ creampie.

Wrote this character kind of based off of Wednesday, but just a bit more modern and with more feelings.. 😝

Pt 2: have you picked?

Being a troublesome meant you had to change schools; a lot. This time after almost killing few guys in school you had to come to nevermore, get on their uniform (just with lack of colors) and play by Weems rules.

Few months in you could say you stayed out of trouble. Yeah you sneaked out to the forest, or stayed up past bedtime but nothing jarring really. You talked to your roommate Enid, knew a guy who worked at cafe in Jericho, Tyler, who was clearly in love with you. Did you fight it? No, you basked in his attention, flirting back sometimes to keep him hooked. You also noticed your classmate Xavier stealing glances during class, trying to impress you with his abilities. You secretly loved it, but saw that little to no interest is was kept him going. So you manoeuvred, giving attention to both, yet not providing any closure that they have a chance.

You were making trouble and didn’t even know it

-

You were in the Weathervane, sipping your coffee, scrolling on your phone as you waited for Tyler’s shift to end. You were trying to be a detective and find out who was the mysterious monster that killed the towns people, he wanted to help. Oh how cute of him, you thought, liking the TikTok’s he sent few hours prior.

Hearing the footsteps approach, you lifted your head and stood up, gathering your things. “Took ya long enough” you mumbled, starting to follow him as the two of you exited the building and Tyler locked it. You went to his car and sat in assigned seats, enjoying the nights darkness, bats whirling around.

Arriving at the destination; his home, you felt a tinge of nervousness. It was the first time you actually had to sleepover. Upon entering Tyler ushered you to go upstairs to his room, which you did after saying hi to his dad. A little banter could be heard between them and then a loud noise from his dad slamming the door.

“Fought again?” You inquired softly as Tyler entered the room, his face displaying irritation. He seemed angrier today. He hummed and began to search for the books he had about monsters, plopping them down on the bed so you could reach them. Once you got a book in his hands and he picked everything he needed, he sat next to you. His eyes instantly, yet innocently raking through your form, appreciating the fae in his presence. “y’look pretty today” he mumbled, ignoring your glare, and meeting your angry eyes with his doe-like, Tyler coughed a bit and looked down at the book in your lap. “Find anythin?” He asked. You shook your head and continued to look over the pages to find any useful information.

After what felt like hours, you gave up. There was nothing similar to what you saw in the woods. You groaned and closed the last book, leaning back a bit as you tried to get rid of your frustration. You felt that you leaned against Tyler’s arm, quickly arching and pulling yourself back to slouch. He smirked at your reaction, finally getting the courage to snake his arm around your waist, only then mumbling out a “can I?��. You decided to nod, getting comfortable in his arms.

You finally got to bed leaning against the headboard, his arm still around you. Engaging in some silly talk about internet trends. Just as Tyler was rambling about a new video of a YouTuber, you got a text from Xavier. “And he was just in an abandoned island, we should watch Ben toni— is that Xavier Thorpe?” He cut himself off as he looked at your phones screen. You hummed “Yeah”, knowing it’ll hurt him but not thinking much of it. You looked up at Tyler, almost innocently, taking in his frown “Nobody said that I stopped talking to him”.

It seemed as if something snapped inside Tyler, his eyes darkening. “You gotta pick y/n, pick one” he said, his arm slightly tightening around your waist. Your eyes widened, brain starting to malfunction, mouth falling agape. Tyler decided to take the initiative “You like him? Want him to be yours? Want to get fucked by him?” He asked, spitting more and more venom with each word. You shook your head, biting your lip; you found this hot. The underlying feelings for him now surfaced merely because of lust. He hummed, slowly getting up and on top of you. “And what about me?”

His question hung in the air as your breath hitched a bit. On a normal day you would shake your head but now… you stayed frozen, your eyes jumping from sight to sight. “Tyler-“ you tried to get a coherent answer out but another notification from your classmate fueled Tylers anger. He took your demeanour as yes, quite frantically kissed you as if you will change your mind within seconds.

You made yourself trouble- you kissed back. And it gave him the wave of confidence to start kissing you feverishly. His hands fumbled around your body, getting under your shirt. Your hands snaked around his neck as you both let out hums of satisfaction, tension building up in the room.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, as if looking for confirmation from your side. You slightly nodded, giving him the okay. “You haven’t picked” he mumbled as he leaned down to nip at your neck. “I won’t” you hummed, not scared of him because you could still clearly see the admiration in his eyes.

As the kiss prolonged, getting aggressive after your response, you felt his hands begin to play with the hem of your pants. His hands ghosted over your pussy, which you couldn’t hide because his knee was in between your thighs. As he was slowly removing the garments you frowned. He stopped as soon as you held his hands “what?” He quipped. “What are you doing?” You mumbled, looking at him confused.

Tyler smirked, continuing his actions “I’m helping you pick” he mused, getting a bit away to get rid of your pants, pushing them on the floor. He also reached to switch off the light, only dim night light illuminating his needy face.

He dipped down between your thighs, kissing the inner flesh to earn small noises from you. You were a bit experienced but nobody ever ate you out. So obviously you felt nervous, but it soon became a past thought as Tyler tongue moved between your folds, getting another moan out of you. He sucked on top of your pussy, giving attention to your clit.

Soon he had you writhing on his bed, his arms holding down your thighs to ground you on his tongue. With ease he flicks his tongue in your folds, his saliva mixing with your slick. You moan, feeling yourself tighten and spasm as you feel the knot tighten.

Tyler is ruthless; feeling yourself tighten upcoming climax, he decides to use his fingers, putting one in your hole and with a teasingly slow pace moving. Your whimpers indicate that his idea is successful, soon tensing up as you see stars. He moves his fingers but pulls away to kiss you, getting through your high with you even if his dick was restrained by his jeans. He groaned as you clenched around his hand, for now only imagining how his dick would feel. It would feel even better he thought and hurriedly got your top off, then working on himself.

He lined himself up, spitting in his hand to pump his dick, hissing at the sight. You were still blissed out and dizzy from his tongue, looking at him with a dazed expression. He slipped in slowly, earning a moan from you, giving a similar sound in return. Once he plugged it full, he bottomed out for a second, leaning down as his forehead hit your shoulder. He cursed before starting to move, his mouth finding your flesh to bite on, not really concerned about bruising your skin.

Your moans mixed as he picked up a rhythm, biting you. Your hands began to trail on his body, which he decided to stop, pinning you by your wrists on the sides of your head.

He smiled when he lifted his head up, seeing your fucked out face. You couldn’t hold your mouth shut, spewing out his name between curses like it was your prayer. Like he was your god. It fueled him to keep up the pace, sometimes pulling out almost completely only to slam himself back in. He loved that he made you clench around his dick, trying to milk him even if he hadn’t finished yet. He released your wrist to push on your tummy, making yours eyes widen. He smirked triumphantly and his hand made its way to your clit, giving extra stimulus to your core. Like 15 minutes before, he had you writhing on his bed yet again, the navy sheets complimenting your body.

He felt it; you felt it. You were about to cum, your hand trying to grasp his but he slammed it back and pinned both of your wrists together above your head “keep them to yourself” he snapped, looking down at your blissed face. He tapped your cheek, getting your attention momentarily “so who’s better?” He said, snapping his hips against yours. You just moaned, not answering. He would’ve left you here, short of orgasm but he wasn’t evil… so he fucked you right and felt you spasm around him the second time tonight, cumming on his dick and leaving a thick and whiteish ring on the base. He didn’t stop, chasing his high and making you whine, feeling sore from the two rounds you had.

You felt it; he felt it. He was about to cum. You weren’t exactly opposed to the idea to him leaving himself inside you, but hummed a little protest as his dick twitched. He was focused on his climax but looked up at you “you haven’t answered” he mumbled “who will you pick” he finished his sentence between already staggering thrusts. You whined in frustration, you hated the question.

So you felt it, as he came and painted your velvet walls white with his cum, hissing as he looked down at your cunt. He thrusted in few more times, mumbling about keeping it in. He hissed again as he kissed you “yeah this pussy is mine. You’re mine”

-

You still talked to Xavier. Because you didn’t pick, now did you? You hummed as you weren’t in a comfortable silence with him. He hesitated for a moment, clearing his throat.

“Tyler.. he told me. Did you really pick him over me..?”

….. muahahah it may be a little tease of a potential part 2

And because I left so abruptly and for so long, here’s a treat- how did Xavier get to know??:

Weathervane was quite busy, nevermore students studying for their exams. So did Xavier, sitting in a corner booth with strong coffee as he read through his notes. He didn’t even notice Tyler going on break and smugly coming over to sit in front of him, speaking up

“I won, you lil bitch” he spat, leaning in with a smirk “i fucked y/n before you, made her cum so easily you wouldn’t even know. Fucked her s’good till she replaced breathing with screaming my name”

[nightfurya]

Obsessive || Tyler Galpin x Reader || (18+)

Outline: The guy who made high school hell for you just escaped Willow Hill and now he’s in your home. He’s dangerous, obsessive, and very, very out of control… but maybe you’ve been just as twisted all along.

Word Count: 5005

Warnings: aged up characters. Mild spoilers for season 2A. (This is a fictional continuation to episode 4) Filthy, feral, possessive smut that includes choking, spit play, biting, bruises, degradation, and obsessive “you’re mine” energy. Mentions of bullying. Read at your own risk (or pleasure).

Author's note: This is unhinged. I’ve been reading way too many feral monster romances lately and it shows.

Nights were always the same in your house.

Books stacked in uneven towers around the living room. Quiet music humming from a scratched record in the corner. Tea cooling too quickly in your chipped mug, forgotten while you read the same page for the third time. Outside, only the occasional hoot of an owl or the low hum of wind pushing through brittle trees...

But something feels off. You hear the crash before you hear the door. Something hits it, hard. Once.

You stand up, mug half-raised, eyes flicking to the dark hallway. Your fingers tighten around the ceramic.

A second crash, louder, like whatever’s out there isn’t just knocking… It’s coming in.

The third hit splits the air with a brutal crack and the door gives out completely, slamming against the inside wall with a violent snap of wood and metal. A burst of cold air rushes in with it, slapping your skin, carrying the scent of wet earth and something... sharp.

You don’t move. You can’t. You’re still holding your tea like a shield, your free hand presses instinctively against your chest, like it might hold your heart in place. And then he’s there.

Tyler Galpin.

Soaked by rain, barefoot and shirtless. Blood streaks his skin in clotted half-moons, dirt smudges his collarbones. His chest rises and falls like he’s outrun hell, and maybe he has. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, jaw tight, lips split and bleeding and those eyes, they are haunted, feral, unmistakable... They find you instantly and they don’t let go.

He doesn’t speak, he just leans against the inside of your shattered doorway and turns the lock like he still believes it works, like he’s claimed this space now.

You haven’t seen him in years. Not since you graduated High School, not since he was dragged away, eyes dead and wrists bound, not since the last time he ruined something that mattered to you.

You take a single, cautious step backward.

His body goes taut, something flashes in his expression… Panic? Instinct? It’s gone too fast to catch.

“Don’t,” he growls, his voice low and cracked from disuse — or screaming — you can’t tell. “Just... don’t.”

You want to run. You want to scream until your lungs rip open but you remember how fast he used to be on the field, in the woods, in the halls of Jericho High, where he used to grab your backpack just to unzip it and let the contents spill.

“Oops,” he’d smirk, stepping over your glasses like trash. Once, he crushed a limited edition of Wuthering Heights beneath his boot like it was a joke.

You didn’t know then that he had a monster inside him. You're still not sure of what he is now.

“What… what do you want?” Your voice doesn’t feel like your own.

He licks blood from his lip and gives you a slow, shaky smile, too wide and too familiar. Something twisted and boyish in it, like he’s trying it on after years in storage.

“What do you think, nerd?” The word is a slap, it lands in the hollow of your ribs like it still belongs there. “Let me guess, you still live alone, still read by candlelight, still got all your little rules and rituals…“ he continues, dragging himself away from the door, limping toward your kitchen like he’s done this before. 

You don’t answer. Your eyes are locked on the blood painting his side. His skin glows pale in the low light, broken only by bruises and grit and the faintest shimmer of sweat. He smells like pine needles and violence.

You should run, but you stay rooted to the floor like a frightened animal, spine stiff and limbs too slow to matter.

He flings the fridge open like he owns it, snorts at the contents, then yanks out a Tupperware of leftover pizza. He eats it cold, no hesitation, no questions, no shame. Then he drinks your milk straight from the carton.

You wonder how many people are dead.

You wonder if you’re next.

When he turns back to you, something in his face shifts, softens maybe, though it’s impossible to say where Tyler ends and the Hyde begins. His head tilts, wolf-like. He breathes in.

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a delight.

“I should be,” you murmur.

He shrugs, his hand leaving a red smear on the fridge door as he leans against it.

“Yeah.” he smiles. 

And for a second — just a second — you forget how to breathe. Then his legs falter. He catches himself on the counter with a grunt, knuckles white. His ribs seize visibly under the bruises, and suddenly, the shimmer on his skin isn't rain. It’s blood.

“Tyler,” you whisper, your voice thin, too soft, too caring. “You’re…”

“Bleeding?” He huffs, not quite a laugh. “No shit.”

He turns slowly, lifting his arm to inspect the gash across his side. The skin beneath is torn, deep, slick with half-dried blood and something darker.

Then, with unsettling calm, he looks at you. “You're gonna fix it.”

Your stomach knots. “I’m not a nurse.”

“You took a first aid class in High School.”

You hate that he remembers. Your eyes flick toward the bathroom cabinet and he notices. His gaze sharpens, tracking the subtle shift in your body like a predator clocking a twitch in wounded prey.

“You're not gonna make me ask again, are you?” His tone shifts, dangerous and tired all at once. “Because I'm not in the mood to beg, not tonight.”

You nod once, slowly backing toward the hallway. His blood is still wet on the floor, his side is still torn open. He won’t chase you.

He can’t.

You make it halfway to the bathroom before you pivot and run, not toward the cabinet but toward the back door. The deadbolt slams open under your hand but not fast enough… he’s already moving. You hear the hiss of pain in his breath as he lunges, the drag of his foot against the wood. You’re almost through the door when his hand wraps around your arm and yanks.

You crash backward into his chest with a gasp, shoulder slamming into the doorframe. He shoves it closed with the flat of his palm and you jolt at the sound. The lock clicks. He doesn’t let go of your arm.

You twist. “Let me go…”

“I said don’t,” he snaps, dragging you back into the hallway.

You struggle against him, wild, stupid, panicked.

“You’re hurt…” you gasp. “You’re bleeding…”

“Not enough to stop me from breaking every door in this place,” he growls, slamming your back against the wall. His forearm braces your shoulder, not crushing but strong enough that you feel how easy it would be for him to really hurt you. He doesn’t but his face is inches from yours now. His voice is ragged. “You really think you’re gonna outrun me? After everything?”

“I had to try,” you reply.

His lips curl. “Yeah, you always run when it gets real.”

You open your mouth to spit back something, anything, but the way he’s looking at you makes the words choke in your throat. He’s staring through you like he knows every version of you you’ve tried to build since high school and doesn’t buy a single one.

His hand slides up the door beside your head, not touching you, but blocking any chance you have of slipping past.

“I’m bleeding all over your floor,” he snaps, stepping even closer, his breath grazing your cheek. So you’re gonna patch me up, and you’re gonna do it now.”

You flinch at his tone, but something in your body responds to the command before your mind catches up.

He pulls back a little, just enough to look down at himself and at the red streaks drying over his ribs. You stare at him for a beat too long. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, so you nod. You push past him stiffly, heart still racing, and disappear into the hallway. He doesn’t follow but you can feel his eyes on your back the whole way.

You grab the first aid box from beneath the sink with trembling hands and return, half-expecting him to be gone.

He isn’t.

He’s sitting on a chair in the kitchen, slouched but alert, blood still painting his skin in angry smears. Still shirtless, still terrifying… And still waiting for you.

You kneel beside him. He doesn’t speak but watches you unsnap the kit. Your hands still shaking. You reach for the antiseptic, the gauze, the tweezers… the routine familiar and comforting in the worst possible way.

When you press the gauze against the deep slash just under his ribs, he hisses so you pause.

“Keep going,” he demands.

You clean the wound in silence, your breath shallow, his eyes pinned to your face. Not your hands, not the blood, but your face. It makes your skin prickle.

“You always flinched when I touched you,” he says suddenly. You freeze and his voice lowers, almost curious. “Still do.”

You don’t look up. “I was scared of you.”

He leans forward just slightly, voice dark and unreadable. “You still are.”

You tape the bandage down, too rough on purpose. He doesn’t even wince.

“You’re not going to say thank you, are you?”

His smile is slow, crooked and dangerous.

“No,” he replies. “But I’ll let you live.”  And that, apparently, is enough.

Your knees are still weak when you rise, your hands stained with blood — his blood — the sticky warmth drying in smudges across your palms. You don’t look at him when you speak. You can’t.

“I’ll… I’ll get you something to wear,” you say, barely louder than your pulse. “It’s cold.”

You can feel his gaze on your back, heavy and unrelenting, but he says nothing, just lets you walk away.

You move like a sleepwalker down the hall, past the broken front door and the dark smear on the wall where he caught you mid-escape. Up the stairs. Each step is deliberate, slow and quiet, as if noise might remind him to follow.

You shut your bedroom door behind you with a soft click, not quite a lock — you wouldn’t dare — but a boundary... Fragile and pointless. Your back hits the door as you exhale for the first time in what feels like hours. And then you see it. Your phone is right where you left it, on the nightstand. It’s a lifeline, a chance.

You cross the room fast, heartbeat stuttering in your throat as your fingers close around it. The screen lights up instantly, casting your pale face in cold blue. No signal, of course, but maybe a text could send when the bars flicker back. You don’t need much, just one word. You start to type.

HELP. 

The bedroom door creaks open behind you. You freeze. Not because of the sound — soft and slow, not violent — but because you didn’t hear him coming up the stairs. He’s just there. You turn, breath caught halfway in your chest.

Tyler stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable, not angry, just calm... Too calm. He looks at your hand, at the phone glowing in your grip and then, finally, his eyes meet yours.

Your throat goes dry. He takes one step into the room. You don’t move. He takes another. Your spine finds the dresser behind you. You feel the edge of the wood bite into your back.

“Give it to me,” he says, extending his hand like he’s asking for something harmless like a book or a pen.

You hesitate and that’s all it takes. He’s on you before you can blink, not violent but inevitable. He moves with eerie precision, stepping into your space like it belongs to him, like you belong to him. His body presses close, not touching but looming, a solid wall of heat and blood and sweat-slick skin. His hand slides between you and the dresser, his fingers curl around your phone.

You don’t resist. He lifts it between you both, studying it, then, without a word, without effort, he snaps it clean in half. The sound is sharp, a vicious crack of plastic and glass that echoes off the walls.

You flinch. He lets the pieces fall to the floor in a final, careless gesture. Then he looks at you and you don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you start to feel lightheaded.

He doesn’t step back, doesn’t ease the pressure. He just watches you, his eyes dragging over your face, down your throat, to the frantic rise and fall of your chest. He’s drinking in your fear, your submission, your fury. It makes something in him relax, not soften, just… settle, like now, finally, things are exactly how they’re supposed to be.

“Where are the clothes ?” he asks, voice low.

You blink. “What?”

He smiles, darkly. “You came up here to dress me, remember?”

You swallow. Your hand brushes the closet door as if by instinct. You open it and pull a folded hoodie from the shelf. You don’t even look at him when you toss it his way.

He catches it one-handed, lifts it to his face, sniffs and smirks.

“Smells like that asshole who took you to prom and that you let kiss you under the bleachers.”

Your cheeks go hot. “He’s not…”

“You’re still seeing him?”

“No.”

He stares at you a long moment, then pulls the hoodie on slowly, wincing as it stretches over his shoulder. He exhales through his nose, then mutters, low, disgusted: “It reeks like cheap cologne and insecurity”

Your chest is tight. You don’t want to hear him anymore, not his voice, not the memories, not how easily he slips back into your life like a nightmare on repeat. Without a word, you walk across the room, past the bookshelf, straight to your desk.

You grab your perfume from the top shelf and spin around, sharp and quick, before he can get another word out. He raises an eyebrow just as you lift the bottle.

Pshht.

You spray him once, directly across his chest. A quick burst, meant to shut him up. The scent blooms instantly in the warm air, floral, amber and something darker underneath. It’s yours and it’s so familiar that it makes your throat catch.

He inhales, startled and then stills. You turn away without meeting his eyes… But you brought his attention to this side of your room. You see it happen in the mirror, the moment he notices what’s pinned to the wall.

You try to move, to step between him and the view but he’s already stepping closer.

“Wait,” you say, too late.

He limps forward, shoulder brushing past you. You grab the bottle tighter, knuckles white. Your shame, your obsession was there, exposed in cheap printer ink and curling edges. Articles, clippings and handwritten notes, circles around words like “Hyde” and “Willow Hill“ and his mugshot, front and center.

He doesn’t move for a long time but his eyes trail over your shoulder, scanning the fragmented headlines like he’s reading his own eulogy.

“Local Sheriff’s Son Declared Unfit.” “Victim Identified in Woods Near Jericho.”

When he finally turns, his eyes rake over you. You wish he looked angry but he doesn’t. He looks... satisfied.

“It’s not what it looks like, it’s research.” you start, voice thin. 

He laughs, not amused, just sharp. “You think this is research? You think cutting out articles about the guy who made your life hell qualifies as some kind of academic project?”

“I needed answers,” you snap.

His voice drops. “No. You needed me. You thought about me every night, didn’t you?” His voice is quiet, but mocking and dangerous. “You looked me up, imagined how I looked locked in that place, wondered if I’d come back for you.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.” He steps toward you. You don’t move. “You probably sat on this floor reading articles about me, while your sweet little boyfriend thought you were reading some harmless books.”

His gaze drops to his mugshot, lingers there before he looks back at you.

“Do you get off looking at that photo?” Your breath catches… not because it’s true, but because it isn’t a no either. He smiles and there’s no warmth in it. “You were always into those dark romance paperbacks in high school… What was it? Brooding vampires? Abusive fae? Criminals who couldn’t be tamed?”

“Tyler…”

“You spent your nights with your thighs squeezed tight, reading about dangerous monsters and wishing they’d pick you?” He moves again, closer, each step pushes the air from your lungs. “And now, you have me.”

You stumble backward — only one step — and hit the edge of your desk. Your hands land behind you, fingers gripping the wood, grounding yourself in anything that’s not him.

He follows, doesn’t touch you but just looms, close enough that your perfume clings to the space between your bodies.

He nods toward the wall of printouts.

“You made a shrine.” You open your mouth — to deny it, to lie, to scream, you don’t know — but no words come. “Why? Why would you care like this? After everything I did to you? All the names I called you? The pranks I pulled? I ruined your books, your grades, your life…”

You make a sound, wounded, half a sob, half a moan. His hand lifts. He presses two fingers under your chin, tilts your face to his. His eyes are fire. Your breath stutters. The words hit low and they burn.

You should push him away, you should scream, you should run… But instead you rise on your toes and surge forward, your mouth colliding with his, not soft, not tentative, but furious. A slap disguised as a kiss. You pour every unsaid thing into it: the years of confusion, the nightmares, the twisted ache he left behind.

You’re the one who closes the space. You’re the one who grips the front of the hoodie and pulls. You’re the one who opens your mouth first.

For a breath, he doesn’t move. Then his hand fists in your hair and he devours you in return, he growls, low and guttural, and the kiss deepens like something snapping inside him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you there, while the other finds your waist, fingers digging in, claiming, demanding.

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth. “You have no idea what you just started.”

You break the kiss, panting. “Then shut up and show me.”

Your breath mingles with his, trembling, not with fear anymore, but with something far more dangerous. His thumb brushes your cheek, rough and reverent all at once. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling like he’s barely holding something back.

The scent of him hits you again, earthy, wild, tinged with sweat and blood and the ghost of your perfume.

His mouth crashes on yours again, no hesitation this time, all teeth and heat and years of tension snapping like a live wire between you. He lifts you easily, your ass hitting the desk with a dull thud, sending papers fluttering to the floor. You gasp into his mouth, but it’s not from pain. It’s the shock of him — all of him — so real, so solid, after years of being nothing but a nightmare in your mind.

He pulls back just enough to drag his gaze down your body, eyes dark with something primal. He groans low in his throat — a sound like fury and hunger and disbelief all at once — and then his hands are on you again, sliding up beneath the fabric, finding skin, heat, need, his mouth open and ravenous, kissing like it’s not just lust but hunger, like he wants to devour you.

Then his hand slides to your jaw, rough and controlling, and suddenly his fingers are pushing into your mouth, two, maybe three, thick and deep. He watches your eyes blow wide as you gag a little, lashes fluttering, and he groans.You whimper around his fingers, spit already dripping from the corner of your mouth, and he grins, wide and sharp and absolutely unhinged. His thumb drags your jaw open wider, forcing your head back to expose your throat, and he leans in like a predator. His eyes flare dark with something that’s not human.

Then it’s a blur; your clothes being ripped, teeth against skin, your name hissed through clenched teeth as he shoves your legs apart with bruising force.

“You wanted a monster? You fucking got him.”

He fumbles with your pants, desperate and impatient, until you lift your hips to help him, and then they’re gone, kicked away and forgotten, and his hand is right there, sliding between your thighs without hesitation, without apology. His fingers find how ready you are for him and he lets out a vicious little laugh.

“Wet for me already?” he remarks, middle finger sliding through the slick heat. “Didn’t take much, did it?”

His finger thrusts deep, then another, stretching you, and it’s not gentle, it’s frantic, punishing and filthy. You rock against his hand, chasing the friction, and he watches you unravel with something close to awe... Or madness.

He doesn’t finger you gently. He fucks you with his hand, two fingers deep and pumping rough, thumb grinding your clit while his other hand clamps around your throat. He watches you choke on a moan and he smiles before biting your neck hard enough to bruise, hard enough to mark. Then your shoulder. Your chest. Anywhere he can reach. And every sound you make, every gasped whimper, every shattered plea, feeds him.

“You're shaking already?” he sneers, dragging his slick fingers down to slap your pussy once, twice, the sound obscene. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He undoes his pants with one hand, the other still gripping your throat like a leash. And when he finally lines himself up, it’s with a dark look that dares you to tell him no but you won’t. You can’t. You want him to ruin you.

He pushes in with a groan so deep it vibrates in your chest, slow just for the stretch, then he slams the rest of the way, burying himself to the hilt. Your cry echoes off the walls, not of pain but relief.

He doesn’t stop. The desk creaks beneath you, the rhythm brutal and raw and perfect. His mouth is on your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips, biting, bruising, like he needs to mark you everywhere, prove you’re real, that this isn’t just another dream that will vanish when the cell door slams shut. You can feel him everywhere. Thick and unrelenting, every inch of him dragging against your walls, pushing you open, fucking you like he doesn’t care who hears or how much the desk rocks beneath you.

“Fuck, yes…” you gasp, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as your body starts to shatter around him, your first orgasm building fast and vicious, like it’s being ripped from you.

He feels the way you tighten, the way your moans break and he loses what little control he had. One hand fists in your hair, the other still choking you, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough to remind you who owns you now. His rhythm is brutal, savage, the kind of fucking meant to leave bruises on your hips and teeth marks on your collarbone. He fucks you like a man possessed, like he’s trying to burn the past from his skin and bury it in you. 

He grunts as he slams into you again, harder than before, so deep you swear he hits something that makes your vision spark. One of your hands flies to the edge of the desk, gripping hard, the other tangling in his hair as if you can anchor yourself there, like you can survive this without falling apart… But he’s not going to let you survive this intact. He wants to see you undone.

“That’s it,” he snarls, watching your eyes roll back, your mouth falling open with a silent cry. “Take it.”

Your legs tighten around him as he starts to pound into you, no rhythm, no finesse, just need. The desk slams into the wall with every thrust, papers long forgotten, and somewhere in the chaos you register the sting of his nails digging into your hips, dragging you back onto his cock every time he drives forward.

Your moan is wrecked, desperate, and it only drives him further off the rails. He loves it. Loves how ruined you sound, how you’re already trembling around him, clenching like your body’s trying to drag him deeper as if you’re scared he’ll leave before it’s over. Every brutal thrust drags you closer to that cliff’s edge, the pleasure so violent it borders on pain; the best kind. You’re soaked, dripping, a mess beneath him and he’s relentless, fucking you like he wants to leave his mark inside you.

Then his fingers slide between you again, rough and sure, rubbing tight circles against your clit as he slams up into you. Your body jerks, the cry ripped from your throat not even human anymore. You try to hold it, try to stay in control, but when he slaps your clit once, sharp and filthy, you break.

The orgasm crashes into you like a wave hitting stone. Your body arches off the desk, mouth open in a silent scream, muscles clenching so violently you see white. You don’t know what sounds are coming out of you — gasps, sobs, broken little moans — but he doesn’t stop, he fucks you through it, riding every aftershock, chasing his own release now with brutal, desperate thrusts, biting your lip until it bleeds.

He pulls out just in time to fist himself once, twice and groans deep, head thrown back as he comes all over your stomach, your thighs, marking you like it means something, like it’s a claim. He’s panting, shuddering, leaning over you with his arms braced on either side. His eyes are wild, blown wide, and there’s sweat sliding down his temple.

He brings his mouth on your neck again but this time, it doesn’t bite. It lingers, open-mouthed and hot, breathing against the bruises he just made.

“Still breathing?” he asks, voice wrecked, lips dragging along your jaw. You don’t answer. Your voice is a ruined thing, somewhere between a sob and a moan, your body shaking from aftershocks, from the mess, from the sheer violence of how hard he fucked you but your legs shift just slightly, just enough to show you’re still here and he grins with something possessive and feral burning in his eyes. “Good.”

He bends down and licks a drop of sweat from your neck. It’s not sensual, it’s animal, marking you again in the filthiest way he can, like tasting the salt on your skin is another form of possession. He kisses your bruised shoulder, not gently, but deeply, like an oath.

His other hand drags up your stomach still smeared with his cum and he wipes his fingers across your skin, then shoves two of them into your mouth.

“Suck.”

You do, instinctively. Desperately. His eyes roll back for a second. He breathes like he’s holding something dangerous back and pulls your head back with a fist in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. Your lips are red, your eyes glassy, bite marks blooming across your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders.

“Look at you, so pretty like this, ruined for anyone else.” Then — as if that wasn’t enough — he spits into your open mouth and you swallow it without blinking. “Good girl,” he breathes, eyes full of madness and worship.

He grabs your discarded shirt and uses it to wipe between your thighs, slow and deliberate. You flinch.

“Sensitive?” he asks, smug. 

You whimper. It’s the only sound you can make.

He tosses the shirt aside, doesn’t care where it lands. Then, without warning, he pulls you against him, your body still a trembling mess, and wraps his arms around you like a vice. One hand snakes up to grip your jaw again, tilting your head to the side so he can mouth at your throat, tasting skin, sweat, salt and spit.

It’s not a cuddle, it’s a claim.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs, dragging his teeth down your neck. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

Your voice finally breaks free, hoarse, barely a whisper. “I wasn’t planning to.”

He hums a low, pleased sound and then his hand slides down to your collarbone to touch one of the bite marks he left there.

“You’ll bruise here, and you’ll feel me every time you walk tomorrow.” he says, almost like a promise. Then he kisses that mark slowly, almost reverent.

“You’re mine now,” he murmurs against your lips, quieter than before but just as deadly. “No one else is ever gonna touch you again, I’ll fucking kill them if they try.”

You don’t even question it because you don’t want anyone else to. You swallow hard, still dazed and his grin is slow… And dangerous.

Other stories:

[nightfurya]

🪻| Have you picked?

Since you wanted some more Tyler…. Hope it’ll live up to the expectations.

This is pt 2 of pick one?

KW: P in v, fingering, orgasm denial, sex not at home, unprotected, slight creampie.

Days have passed one after another, making you feel the air getting colder every day. After your encounter with Tyler you didn’t specifically avoid him, but gave less hope for him. You replied a bit coldly, didn’t initiate conversations with him. Because you still wanted to toy around with the two boys that were drooling for you.

But obviously, you had to be part of the society. So you ended up at weathervane to study with your friends, making prolonged eye contact with the barista over the other side of the cafe. You had to admit, his gaze made you feel a bit nervous and feel some butterflies in your stomach. You had to remind yourself that you’re here to study about Mrs. Thornhills lovely plants.

You stuck to your promise, getting wrapped up in your research for the upcoming test; you had to get a good grade. Even Enid slowly rose, last one to leave, muttering a small concerned warning not to burn out. You hum in agreement and get back to writing, forgetting to check the time.

“You know I’m closing the place in few minutes, right?” You jump at the voice, looking up at the tall brunette with a coy smile. You start to pack up with lack of words, feeling a bit flushed that he had to ask you to leave the place. “Or did you want to talk to me?” He quipped, tapping your shoulder slightly to make sure you’re paying attention.

“Not particularly, but sure” you shrug, finally getting the things zipped up in your bag. Tyler went to lock the front door nearby, scoffing at the dryness.

You both made your way to the back, you stopped near the counter of the small kitchen, waiting for Tyler to switch all the lights off. He approached, the only small light coming from the streetlight through the window illuminating his features and making them more prominent. Your breath got caught in your throat.

His hands snaked on your waist, already plaguing your mind to comply. He pulled you up to sit on the counter, standing in between your legs as his fingers hooked playfully on the belt loops of your skirt.

“Have you picked?”

“No”

“Ah, what a shame…” he hissed slightly, sarcasm seeping through his lips that you stared at “want some help again?”

He looked at you again as his hand trailed on your thigh. He didn’t plead, but his eyes had shown the eagerness that you found so arousing. You were compelled to nod and lean in to kiss him, starting of slower than the last time. Though he picked up the pace fast, his hand sneaking past your skirt and up under it, pushing on your panties to feel how flush you are.

He used your moan to dominate your mouth, holding you by the back of your neck, his kisses starting to get feverish. He pulls away to get his fingers in your mouth to suck on them, to wet them. He frowned with a sigh at the sight, suppressing a small groan. He got his fingers out and pushed your panties down, letting them fall on the kitchen floor.

His eyes stayed on your face as pushed the two fingers in, relishing the feel of your plushy pussy. Your jaw went slack as you looked up at him, grasping onto his shoulders. Small moans spilled from your mouth, Tyler leaning down to kiss your neck and to listen to your whimpers better.

He worked on you like you were finest artwork; with precision and care, fastening up to get your voice pitch higher. Last time he focused to get you to see stars. But today he decided enough was enough. He pulled out his fingers, smiled at your frown, then kissed you as a small apology.

Your hands slid down to tug at his pants, fumbling with the zipper to get the fabrics down. You succeeded, muttering “want you” few times, pumping his dick and earning a bite to your shoulder with a needy whine. He let you toy around for a second before he hissed and leaned back to properly line himself up. You didn’t have time to blink before he pushed in, both of you moaning out as he slowly slid himself in.

“Fuck” he whispered “already molded to my dick. It’s like you were made only for me;only for this.” He spoke into your neck, his hands gripping your waist and thigh, keeping it properly wide open. This time he was more local, grunting and moaning as he moved.

Your voices created a chaotic symphony, the room heating up from your bodies. You could feel your voice pitching, your eyes rolling back as well as your head, Tyler’s muscular hands holding you up.

Yet again, he felt you spasm, your pussy clenching around his dick. So obviously, he pulled out. Your eyes shot open as your cheeks flushed “Tyler what the actual fuck”

“I repeat. Have you picked?” He smiled sickly as you groaned. You played your games, he played his. You nod for the sake of your pleasure and grab him by the collar to kiss him.

You look down to see he had already made a cum mess on your inner thigh, his length twitching, as more cloudy slick poured out. He made sure to get some of it before slipping himself in again, getting the pace up.

You feel the last spurts of his semen in your lower tummy, your pussy milking him as it slowly gets to make those sweet yet so dirty squelching sounds.

He leans in against your forehead as both of you breathe heavily, you slowly following his lead and unraveling. He pushes through your high, gripping you so hard it might leave marks.

He sighs one last time, pecking your forehead and getting some paper towels as he pulled out, earning a hiss from both parties. He wordlessly wipes you down carefully, taking care of himself too.

He leans down to get up his pants and helps you to get your panties back on “Let me drive you back to Nevermore sweetheart”

[nightfurya]

Nothing New (v2)

pairing: tyler galpin x fem!reader genre: smut content/warnings: sub!tyler, dacryphilia, use of nicknames, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), stomach bulge, cockwarming summary: tyler shows up to your house crying, so you help him releave some stress a/n: kinda just a smutty version of nothing new. also, implied they're already not wearing all their clothes

I reattached our lips as I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Tyler had shown up at my window after a fight with his dad, and somehow we had ended up here, with him whining underneath me.

His eyes were still red, his cheeks streaked with dried tears as he grabbed at my hips, feverishly kissing me. Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but admit how pretty he looked like this, flushed from crying.

I slipped my tongue into his mouth as he moaned. He rolled his hips up, rubbing against my core. I pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it behind me as I moved to suck marks onto his neck.

I pulled back, earning a disappointed whine from Tyler.

"Strip for me," I stated, climbing off of his lap. He paused, meeting my eyes. "Go on, baby," I said as I removed my shirt.

His eyes flicked down to my bra—his favorite—before he got off the bed, slowly undoing the button on his jeans. I crawled to the edge as he drug the zipper downward, revealing his boxers as he kicked off the garment.

His dick strained against the fabric, creating a large wet spot. I placed a soft kiss against it, causing his head to fall back with a moan.

"'M sensitive," he whined.

I licked his tip through the fabric, his hips bucking against my tongue. I took the soaked cloth between my teeth, pulling away before letting it snap back against him.

He hissed at the feeling, letting out a moan.

I sat up, pushing my chest out as I spoke. "What do you want, baby?"

"To taste you," he groaned, pulling himself back from the pleasure.

"I'm all yours," I spoke as I laid back, Tyler quickly climbing over me.

He dipped down to my chest, making quick work of undoing my bra. His mouth latched onto one of my nipples, swirling his tongue.

My hand came to his hair, gently tugging on his curls at the feeling. I pushed my hips against him, urging him to hurry up.

"Baby," I moaned. "I need you."

He groaned at my words, his mouth leaving my chest with a soft pop. He peppered kisses down my stomach, till he reached my underwear, hastily pulling them off.

Tyler sat back just enough to give himself a good view of my pussy. He pushed my legs farther open, moaning as he did so. He cast a glance up at me before attaching his lips to my clit.

I moaned at the sudden action, tightening my grip in his hair. My hips rolled against him as his tongue slipped down to my entrance. He pushed into me, lapping at my walls. My thighs clenched around his head involuntarily as my head fell back.

"T—Tyler, oh my god. Fuck—Don't stop," I cried as he brought a hand up to wrap my legs further around his head.

He harshly sucked on my folds as he slipped his tongue in and out of me, moaning along with me as his hips rutted against the mattress. My stomach tightened as I pushed his face against me.

"Baby—Baby, I'm gonna cum!"

My walls spasmed as I came, Tyler groaning against me. He lapped at my pussy as I came down, squirming at the extra sensitive feeling. I let my legs relax as I pulled him off of me, cupping his cheeks in my hand. His face was covered in my slick as he eagerly licked his lips, watching me with longing eyes.

"So good, baby," I mumbled, gently stroking his cheek.

"Can I please fuck you?" he whined, leaning into my touch.

"Of course, baby."

He sat up as I helped him quickly slip off his underwear, exposing his pink cock, covered in precum. I accidentally groaned at the sight, causing him to let out a small gasp as his hips jerked.

I pulled him down by his neck, feverishly kissing him. My fingers laced into the curls at the nape of his neck, my tongue pushing his. I bit his lip as I pulled back.

Tyler sat up, his eyes fixed on my pussy as he drug his tip through my folds, collecting my cum. He lined himself up with my entrance, flicking his eyes up to mine.

"C—can I? Please?" he whined, a pathetically desperate look on his face.

"Yes, baby."

His gaze dropped back down to my soaked cunt, watching intently as he slowly slipped inside of me. I gasped, feeling my walls stretching to fit him. Once he had bottomed out, he paused, moaning as he tried to catch his breathe.

I stroked his hair as I adjusted to his size, cooing softly in his ear. His dick twitched, causing me to groan.

"Move, baby."

Tyler whined as he pulled back, forcefully shoving his hips against mine. I moaned, grabbing at the back of his neck. I wrapped my legs around him as he established a harsh pace, bucking into me rapidly. I sucked his neck as he whimpered.

"I'm—I'm not gonna last long," he whined.

"That's okay, baby." I could feel his abs tightening as his thrusts become sloppy. "Cum for me."

He cried out as his fingers slipped down to my clit, making quick circles as he buried his face in my neck.

"Fill me up," I cooed. "Cover my walls in your cum."

He shuddered at my words, moaning as he came, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum into me. I moved his hand from my clit to the bulge in my stomach, lightly pressing. My walls clenched around him, milking his cock, as he practically screamed at the feeling of his cum filling me up.

I came hard, yelling his name as he tried his best to fuck me through my high. My walls choked his cock as he whimpered in overstimulation, his cum pouring out of me with each sloppy thrust.

He stilled as I came down, collapsing on top of me as he panted, still shaking from his orgasm. I could feel the pool of his cum between my legs, coating both of us.

"C—can I stay here?" he panted, eyes coming up to silently plead with me. He had a new set of tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes still watering from the pleasure. "Inside of you?" he pleaded.

"Of course," I cooed, gently petting his hair. "Go to sleep, baby."

He settled himself between my boobs, letting his eyes flutter shut. I knew I'd wake up sometime later to him needily rutting into me.

[nightfurya]

His New Master

xxx Warning(s): The One Where: Tyler finds out he's the Hyde and Reader does everything to help him Paring: Tyler Galpin x Clairvoyant Reader xxx

You sat at Weathervane with Wednesday waiting for Tyler to serve you your coffee. You smile kindly at him taking the cup from him your hand slightly grazing his. He doesn’t notice the way you inhale sharply as he sits down next to you after giving Wednesday her Quad. Wednesday watches your breathing pick up as you put your silk glove back on.

“So what are your plans for today?” Tyler asked. Tossing an arm over your shoulder.

“I’m supposed to have therapy in an hour but my therapist is dead” Wednesday says.

“Any leads on your little monster?” Tyler asked taking a sip from your coffee. Before Wednesday could answer a customer walked in. Tyler got up quickly attending to them.

“What did you see?” Wednesday leans forward interrogating you.

“I saw his mother, and it wasn’t pretty” You said.

After Wednesday had put Xavier in jail and went to visit Tyler, when he had hugged her in relief of her being alive she had a vision. Now Wednesday had you use your clairvoyance to confirm her vision.

“And I’m back” Tyler sat next to you again. Wednesday gave you a stern look making you sigh heavily as you took both your gloves off setting them on the table.

“Wednesday put Xavier in jail, he’s the Hyde” you said grabbing Tyler’s hand. You tensed immediately as different visions crossed your minds.

“Wow, that’s shocking, I thought Xavier was a creator” Tyler said referring to Xavier’s ability to bring art to life.

“We thought so too, but we found all the victims belongings in his art shed” Wednesday said. Tyler noticed how you let go of his hand grabbing your head.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Raging headache, can I get a water?” You asked him tears brimming your eyes.

“Of course” Tyler got up quickly going to the back room to grab a water bottle.

The look you gave Wednesday told you everything she needed to know making her glare at Tyler. You grabbed her hand grabbing her attention.

“I don’t think he knows what he’s doing, he might have a clue from it but he’s not aware, I think he’s scared”

“That doesn’t stop him from being a monster”

“He needs help, I know someone” You said. Wednesday watched as you grabbed your gloves just as Tyler came back.

“I have to go” You said grabbing the water bottle. You didn’t say anything else as you kissed his cheek before leaving. The pair watched you pull out your phone as you left the cafe.

~

“Xavier”

“Y/n”

You entered the room where they had him locked up, an officer sat at the desk by the door eyeing you.

“Give me your hand” You snatched your glove off holding your hand out to him. The officer watched in confusion as you stuck your hand through the bars. Xavier knew what you were doing and didn’t question any of it as he grabbed your hand.

“What happened?” He whispered lowly to you prettying his forehead against the bars.

“Wednesday had a vision Tyler’s the Hyde, I used my sensitivity and she’s right” You said.

“So why do you need me” Xavier asked.

“Gathering Evidence” You said.

When you were done you let go of him putting your glove back on.

“We’ll get you out of here, I promise” You told him. Xavier could only nod in hope as he watched you leave.

“Tyler, what are doing here” you asked seeing him talking with his dad.

“Y/n, I just came to see my dad before I headed home” Tyler said. He walked over to you wrapping an arm around you in a side hug. “Are you okay, you’ve been acting a little funny today” he asked.

“I’m fine, I’ve just had a lot on my mind today. I just finished visiting Xay” You said resting your head against his chest.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, isn’t he the Hyde?” Tyler asked. You looked up at him seeing genuine concern in his eyes. You sigh heavily dropping your head.

“Despite all the evidence against him, I know he’s innocent, he was falsely accused” You told him.

“How do you know?” Tyler asked. You shrug in response. “Hey do you want me to take you back to Nevermore, I know it’s a pretty long walk”

“That’d be nice, please”

Tyler said goodbye to his father, the sheriff waving you both off as you got in Tyler’s car.

“Talk to me, what’s been up with you today?” Tyler asked making you sigh heavily.

“My clairvoyance has just been off the charts today, I’m tired and my head hurts” You explain.

“Have you been using it?” He asked. He noticed how you uncomfortably shifted in your seat when he asked that.

“Not on purpose” You lie.

“Y/n you kept taking your gloves off at Weathervane, especially when you went to touch me” He stated. You knew he want stupid and was wondering about that. But Wednesday just had to insist that you use your powers on him.

“I’ve just been feeling insecure lately that’s all, I wanted to go inside your mind to make me feel better about myself” You explain which while technically it wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the truth.

“What do you have to be insecure about baby?” Tyler put a hand on your thigh sparing you a glance before looking back at the road.

“Ever since Wednesday came you’ve just been so fond of her. You and Xavier both, and I have nothing against her, I just felt like she was taking my best friend and my crush at the same time” You admit as you fiddle with your gloves.

Both you and Tyler had expressed feelings for each-other a long time ago. But due to Xavier’s distaste for him you decided to not make a relationship out of anything until Xavier felt more comfortable around the normie, or at least what you thought was a normie.

“Y/n, I like you, a lot, and sure Wednesday is cool and everything- but she’s not you. You mean a lot to me, I’m willing to wait however long it takes for us to be together” Tyler grabbed your hand as he pulled up to Nevermore’s gates.

“But the Rave’N-”

“I only agreed to go to the dance with Wednesday cause she asked first of all, and she didn’t want to look suspicious being at the dance by herself while she scoped out Xavier, she filled me in on her plans when I picked her up” Tyler explained.

“I’m sorry I feel so stupid now” You chuckle dryly putting your hands to your face. Tyler grabs both your hands pressing his palm against your cheek. You inhale as you start to have visions of him again “Tyler…”

“Yes?”

“If you ever felt like there was something wrong with you, you would tell me, right?” You asked.

“What do you mean by that?” Tyler asked dropping his hand.

“You know my gifts can help better your mental health, I just, if you ever feel down I want you to know that you have me” You explained.

“I also know that over using your gift causes you headaches, I rather suffer myself than let you suffer for me” Tyler smiles poking your head. “Now go, before Weems has a fit” He said. You smile leaning over the consol pecking his cheek before getting out the car.

xxx

Enid couldn’t help it, the stern look you had given her sent her into a blabbering haze. You storm into Xavier’s shed finding Tyler tied up to a chair and Wednesday asking him all sorts of questions.

“What are you doing!?” You yell running over to Tyler checking up on him.

“Y/n please get me out of here, she thinks I’m a monster” Tyler pleads.

“Wednesday this is not the way to do this” You scold.

“We both know he’s the Hyde Y/n, look his mom was a student here!” Wednesday argues showing you the picture.

“Fine, my mom was an outcast, that doesn’t make me a monster” Tyler argues.

“According to her personal medical records-” Wednesday said grabbing a file off a table.

“You stole her medical records?” You and Tyler ask in unison

“Technically Thing did, he took them from your garage, your father’s quite the pack rat” Wednesday said opening the folder. “Her postpartum depression triggered her condition”

“My mom had severe bipolar disorder”

“We both know that’s a lie, she was a Hyde” Wednesday spits. “And your father has been living his life in dread, never quite sure whether or not she passed her condition on to you”

“Are you all gonna stand there and let her do this to me?” Tyler asked in panic. “Y/n” He looks up at you. You bite your lip tears brimming your eyes as you cup his face in both hands.

“I promise I won’t let her hurt you” You said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tyler says.

“Uh guys, Enid just texted, Thornhill’s suspicious” Ajax said. “How long until he morphs into that… thing?” Ajax asks.

“I’m not the monster” Tyler said his voice quivering.

“You are, I saw it in a vision at the Weathervane” Wednesday let go of your hand taking out a kit filled with tools.

“Wait You’re basing all this off some vision you had? Is that something you can trust?” Tyler argues.

“I saw it to Ty” You admit. “You’re the Hyde, there’s no doubt about it” You tell him. Tyler’s breathing picks up as you try calming him down Wednesday pulls out a bag taking tools out of it.

“Wednesday what are you doing?” Bianca asked.

“Just some light torture, don’t worry I won’t leave a mark” Wednesday said pulling out more tools. You stand up straight pivoting to face the Addams girl.

“Wednesday hold on” Bianca tried to reason.

“Wait are you being serious?” Ajax asked causing Wednesday to pivot and face him.

“There’s only one thing that a Hyde understands,” She slams down the tool she has pulling a taser from her back pocket, “Pain” she stated tasing the side of Tyler’s neck.

“Wait no Wednesday” Everyone yells.

“Wednesday!” You yelled pulling Wednesday’s arm way from Tyler’s neck. Tyler starts crying in panic you trying your best to calm him down. You go to take off your gloves and put them on his head but he resists.

“No don’t touch me, why? You promise you’d never use your clairvoyance on me, why?” Tyler yells at you.

“I had to Tyler please, let me help you” You talk to him as everyone leave arguing with Wednesday.

“Wednesday, I didn’t sign up for this, let’s go to Weems, explain everything” Bianca says.

“Weems won’t help, and Tyler is always one step ahead of his father” Wednesday said pulling out another taser.

“Then You’re on your own” She says walking out. .

“No, don’t leave me here with her, please! I’m begging you please!” Tyler begs as he starts breathing heavily.

“Wednesday stop, he’s obviously not aware of what he’s done” You said standing in front of Tyler protectively.

“He knows, he’s always known” Wednesday says shoving you out of the way. “What is Kinbott, or should I say Laurel Gates, using in you for?” She asked. When Tyler didn’t answer he got tasted causing you to try and strike Wednesday again only for her to taser you as well. “Tyler, the body parts in the basement of the Gates mansion, what was she collection them for?” Wednesday asks.

“I don’t understand why are you doing this?” Tyler asked. Sirens start to go off making you panic as Wednesday grabs a mallet.

“Wens, please stop this” You beg

“Let’s test your reflexes” She threatened.

“I’m in here!” Tyler yells.

“Get away from my son! Drop it!” Sheriff Galpin yells holding a gun up to Wednesday. Wednesday raised her hands dropping the mallet. You quickly crawl over to a panicked Tyler trying your best to calm him down.

“Please Y/n, please, I’m not a monster” He begs.

“Shh Shh I know I know you’re not honey, I’m so sorry” You say. You watch as Wednesday gets arrested and you and Sheriff Galpin get Tyler out of the chains.

At the station as you and Tyler file a case report you watch Wednesday argue with Galpin and Weems. When the two of you are done you sit down with Tyler watching as Wednesday leave with your principal.

“Y/n” Tyler looks at you with watery eyes.

“Yes honey” You say playing with his hair.

“I know I’m the monster, but I don’t wanna be” He admits quietly to you.

“I know honey, I called my stepdad, he can help you” You admit.

“That’s why you left the other day?” He asked.

“I called him on my way to see Xavier, his ex-wife was also a Hyde and he was her master, but he taught her how to control her transformation and she became dormant. So now she transforms at her own free will” You explain.

“Why did they divorce?” He asked.

“She’s a lesbian” You said making him snort a laugh. The small moment of happiness eased you.

“You have to tell me who your master is honey, like that we can cut your ties with her and he can help you” You said brushing his hair out of his face.

“I’m just scared, she’s a really good person, she’s the closest thing I’ve had to a mother figure since my mom died” Tyler said.

“Honey she’s using you, Laura’s Gates gates outcasts, and she’s using you to get rid of us, one by one, please you have to tell me” You pleaded with him. Tyler sighs heavily grabbing your hand. You had left your gloves in Xavier’s shed causing you to have a vision when he grabbed you.

xxx

When Sheriff Galpin went to collect Xavier to transfer him to the courthouse cell you had gone with him. You were visiting him and he allowed you to stay with him on the way to the courthouse.

"How's Tyler doing?" Galpin asked. You glanced at the rear view mirror seeing Xaviers reaction to the question.

"He's okay, little shaken up but nothing I can't handle" You said.

"Thank you for being there for him, it really means alot to me that you're helping him out" Galpin says. You smile in response adjusting yourself in your seat to look at Xavier

Not too long into the drive Galpin's phone starts going off causing him to tell Xay to shut up since the boy kept fighting against his chains. "Santiago what's up" He says.

"Sir, we got a situation, Eugene Ottinger's mom just called, frantic. Something's going on at Nevermore" She says over the phone.

"Get a couple of cars over there ASAP"

"That's just it I can't, the tires on the squad cars have been slashed, every damn one" Santiago says

"Alright I'm on the way" Galpin says, turning on the sirens and drifting the car causing you and Xavier to crash into the car doors.

"Warning would've been nice Sir" You grunted. Galpin apologises before quickly making his way to Nevermore's woods before parking the car.

"Why're we stopping in the middle of the woods?" Xavier asked as you both look over at his phone. "You tracking your little monster?" He asked.

"You shut it" The Sheriff says as he gets out the car. "Stay here" He tells you.

"Hey wait- wait wait, what about us!?" Xavier yells as the car door closes.

"Oh you asshole" You say before you start ransacking his car for the keys to get Xavier out.

"Enid's been filling me in on everything that's been happening. apparently Thornhill, Laurel, whatever her name is got ahold of Tyler before my stepdad could and he's transformed. We got to get you out of here as fast as possible and I have to get to Tyler before he hurts anyone else.

You hear thumping and pattering on the roof of the car before looking at the back window.

"Thing I love you!" You smile getting out of the car opening Xavier's door. Thing unlocks him with a bobby pin allowing the boy to be free.

"You head to the school, I'm gonna go after Tyler" You tell him

"What are you gonna do, how do you know he won't hurt you?" Xavier asked.

"I know Tyler, he's scared and he doesn't like who he is. If he's in his hyde form I'm gonna have to get into his head somehow"

"Y/n"

"I have to do this Xavier, I love him" You said sternly. Xavier nods before pulling you into a hug.

"Please stay safe, I can't lose you" He begs.

"You won't, my stepdad should be around here somewhere, when you see him don't let him leave your sights, I'll get Tyler over to you guys as soon as I can"

xxx

The gunshot is what caught your attention. You followed it seeing Tyler in his Hyde form.

"Tyler son, is that really you?" Galpin asked. Tyler roars as he targets his own father.

"Sheriff run!" You yell getting in between Tyler and his dad. The Hyde stops for a moment almost as if recognizing you, but a tackle from a blonde werewolf with pink and blue highlights snaps him out of it.

"Enid!" You said excitedly, "You wolfed out!" The werewolf nods proudly before sparing a glance as Tyler. "Enid I need to reach his head, I can snap him out of it" You say. Enid nods lowering herself so you can mount her back. You held on tightly to her nape as Tyler goes to attack her. Enid dodges but stand on her hind legs getting in Tyler's face.

You take the jump off her landing loosely on Tyler's shoulder. You scream in pain as he claws at your back. He struggles to get you off him as you swing your leg around his neck pressing your hands to his temple. Tyler claws at your face before successfully swinging you off him but you could tell he was struggling to keep whatever thoughts he had in line.

Enid tackles Tyler pinning him to the ground right infront of you. You scramble to reach his head blood falling into your vision as you felt his head. You pressed your hands against his temple as Enid struggled to keep him pinned.

xxx

Tyler watches as you walk into Weathervane. Prim and perfect posture. Your gloved hands were behind your back as you walked up to the counter asking for a coffee. When he didn’t respond you chuckled causing him to snap out of it.

“Sorry um, coffee?” He asked.

“With extra creamer and a cinnamon stick” You tell him.

“Right on it” Tyler said. You chuckle again when he bumped into the shelf behind him knocking down a few Ingredients.

x

“Tyler right?” You asked as you walked into Weathervane.

“Yes, and sorry I never caught your name”

“Y/n, pleasure to meet you” You held out your hand

“Right back at you” Tyler smiles softly shaking your hand

x

“What the hell is wrong with you” You scold storming into Weathervane.

“What what what did I do?” Tyler asked as you took of your glove smacking him with it. He set down the cup of hot chocolate he was holding grabbing your wrists.

“You ruined Xavier’s Mural? Why would you- how could you- I can’t even look at you right now” You smack him one more time after freeing your wrists.

“Y/n please, you know that’s not me, I just, I’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd lately I guess” Tyler said. Once you had calmed down the grabbed the cup again delivering it to the table. “I’m sorry, I really am Y/n, you can check my head I just- I guess I just wanted to fit in” Tyler apologizes.

You sigh heavily putting your glove back on, “I’m an outcast Ty, there’s no such thing as fitting in, trust me”

x

“I think I'm in love with you” You mumble softly causing Tyler to stop talking mid sentence.

“What?” he asked with a cheeky smirk. You sit up straight in your seat clearing your throat.

“Uh, nothing, nothing, you were saying” You say gesturing for him to continue.

“I love you too” He smiles making you turn bright red.

xxx

Tyler groans as he wakes up finding himself in your arms. Galpin had left to get him a change of clothes while you respectfully covered him up with your jacket.

“I’ll be okay Enid, you can go” You say. Enid nods her head wrapping her pink coat around herself tighter before walking away.

“Y/n?” Tyler looks up at you groggy. His vision blurred by blood and dirt.

“Hey Ty, how you feeling?” You ask brushing strand of hair off his face.

“Shitty, mentally and physically” He says trying to sit up. You stop him reminding he he has no clothes on and your jacket wasn’t doing much to cover.

“Here” You said lifting the bottom of your shirt to wipe his face. You got as much grim off his face as possible causing him to finally be able to see.

“I-” Tyler cut himself off when he caught sight of you. You had three gashes across your face and one under your chin. “Did I do that?” Tyler asked.

“No” You said without hesitation. “The monster did”

“But I am the monster” Tyler argues.

“You’re an outcast Tyler, an Outcast that doesn’t have control over his ability, you’re not a monster” You tell him. You ignore the sheer pain on your face and across your back, you just focus all your energy on the boy you’re holding.

“She’s not wrong” You and Tyler turn around finding Sheriff Galpin and your Step Dad walking up with a bag of clothes and a few other officers.

“C’mon, let’s help you two” Galpin says. Raphael and Galpin help the two of you up The sheriff helping his son dress.

“I’m very proud of you kid” Ralph says. You smile as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“We have Gates in custody, let’s get you in there as well so you can make a statement, Y/n if you could round up a few friends of yours that Can maybe come to Tyler’s defense, cause this is going to be complicated in court” Galpin says.

“Of course sir” you nod your head.

“I’m gonna head with Tyler, are you gonna be okay?” Ralph asked.

“Yeah yeah, go, he’s gonna need you” You tell him. Tyler looks back at you as he’s being walked off. You smile softly blowing him a kiss causing the smallest of smiles to appear on his face.

xxx

Wednesday, Xavier, and Enid came to Tyler’s defense, Bianca was even given permission to use her siren song on him and he admitted that at first he had no idea what was happening, but later had the thought that he might be the Hyde. While Laurel ended up with life sentence in prison after getting out of the hospital, Tyler was given three years of parol, and community service at Nevermore along with court ordered therapy.

Most of Kinbott’s clients had been transferred to Raphael. You being Clairvoyant started as his assistant to help his clients open up more snd calm them down from any anxiety that they had. Though you spent most of your time with Tyler.

“Are you ready Tyler?” Ralph asked.

“No” Tyler admitted nervously.

“I got you Tyler, we got you” You said. Right behind you was Wednesday, Bianca, Enid, and Xavier. Wednesday was holding Bianca’s amulet and Xavier had his sketchbook open to a drawing of Enid in her wolf form, the blonde hadn’t mastered the natural ability of wolfing out on command yet so the drawings were a backup. Every week for the past couple of months they all assisted Tyler in his control over his Hyde. Ajax and the other sirens often helped out as well when they could.

“You promise I won’t attack anyone?” Tyler asked.

“Laurel isn’t your master anymore, Raphael is so regardless of your transformation you won’t be tempted to attack us” Wednesday said.

“Actually judging by our other sessions I don’t think I’m his master” Ralph said.

“Then who is?” Bianca asked. Ralph looked down at you. You were taken aback before looking over at Tyler who sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m your master?” You asked.

“Last time we did this my Hyde only listened to you” Tyler shrugs. Your hand goes up to the three scars you had crossing your face. They were almost completely healed along with the ones on your back. “I know you might not be comfortable with this, trust me I’m not either but, my Hyde and I only trust you”

You sigh heavily taking a step towards him. Xavier reached out to you grabbing your arm. He gives you a certain look as if asking if you were sure. You nodded your head walking up to Tyler taking off your gloves.

“I love you” You say pressing a hand to his temple.

“I love you too” He says. You back away when he starts to growl and his body starts morphing. Everyone gets in defensive stands Xavier getting ready to pull his drawing out of his book. You all watch as the Hyde in front of you stand still.

He looks down at himself almost as if it’s the first time he sees himself. He starts hyperventilating but before anyone could do anything you held an arm out as a sign for them to back off.

“Tyler?” You ask. Everyone sighs in relief as Tyler nods in his Hyde form. You smile brightly holding your hand up. Tyler presses his hand against your but backs away when you go to put his hand on your face. “It’s okay, you can touch me” You said softly. Tyler hesitantly presses his hand to the side of your face. His eyes softened as his claws ran through your hair. “Hi Handsome” you giggle.

Everyone took a stance agin when you squealed only Tyler to pick you up and set you on his shoulder.

“Awww that’s so sweet” Enid smiles softly.

“He finally has control over his Hyde” Bianca said.

“Is anyone else seeing the parallel between this and Bruce Banner and the Hulk?” Ralph asked.

“You know I was thinking the same thing” Xavier chuckles.

You laugh when Tyler finally sets you down. You grab his change of clothes handing it to him. You all watched as he went behind a few trees and boulders his form shrinking.

“I’m very proud of you guys” Ralph said watching Tyler come from behind the boulders excitedly.

“Why do you say that?” You asked.

“You guys defeated Laurel Gates, found out Tyler was the Hyde, and just helped him gain control over something everyone in the world said was impossible” He says.

“Yeah well, he’s our friend” Enid said holding Wednesday’s hand.

“Same way we help Enid wolf out we’ll help Tyler control his Hyde” You said as Tyler wraps his arm around you leaning you side to side.

“C’mon let’s have a celebratory dinner” Ralph says. Xavier grabs Bianca’s hand the two of them taking the lead with Wednesday and Enid in tow.

“I’m really proud of you Ty” You said looking up at him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you baby” Tyler smiles goofily leaning down pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Now C’mon, after dinner we should get you enrolled into Nevermore”

[nightfurya]

Tyler Galpin X Vampire!Reader

**Reader will have a name as it’s hard for me to just write y/n. So it will be kinda like an insert reader.** This will be different scenarios of the same universe, just not a full book as I find it easier to write scenarios than chapters.

Summary: Vienna Adam’s, she was the only one in her family that was a vampire after a spell gone wrong. However she didn’t care, she liked being a vampire it made her different from her family.

“Tyler I can help you!” She yelled at him, his back turned to her as they both stood in the woods.

“No! You can’t! Nobody can help me! Nobody will understand, now I need you to leave. I don’t want to hurt you.” He whimpered shaking his head.

Taking steps toward his body, she placed her hand on his arm but it all happened to quick. His body transformed into a monster. It towered over her as she looked up. Its eyes were huge, but the hair was just like his. “Oh Tyler.” She cooed, “Your not a monster to me.”

He took a step towards her expecting her to take a step away but she didn’t. All she did was reach down and softly grab his hand. “I’m not afraid of you Tyler. I will try and help you to the best of my ability. I won’t leave you.” She shook her head, arms wrapping around her to the best of her ability. 

Soon enough she could feel his body slowly become what it was before. The Tyler she knew. The one she loved, no matter the short amount of time they had spent together. The Tyler that accepted her for who she was.

“You really won’t leave me?” He whimpered, his body bare but neither of them could pay attention to it. 

Her hand reached up to caress his cheeks. “Never. As long as you promise to not leave me.”

“Never.” He gave her a relieved smile, before realizing he was naked. “I-um-“ He stuttered. “I have clothes in my cave. I’ll be- right back.” He continued to stutter, making her giggle as she turned around to give him privacy. Though glancing back just once to look at his toned back. Small scars littered it but to her it just made him look at the hotter.

Blushing she shook her head awaiting his return. “You’re shivering.” He spoke up, now behind her as he slipped a sweatshirt over her head. “Here.” 

Before she realized what he had given her and moved to take it off. He turned her body and gave her a smile. “Keep it. I want you to have it.”

“You know I’m a vampire right? I don’t get cold. I’m always cold. And pa-“ However he interrupted her.

“Pale. Right. Well, I still you to have. I guess like a token of me or maybe as a way to mark what mine to others.” He gave her smirk, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead before he wrapped an arm around her and moved them both back towards Evermore.

[nightfurya]

Poison Heart || Tyler Galpin

Fandom: Wednesday Pairing: Tyler Galpin x GN!Reader Words: 1335 Note: This has been rewritten and reposted from one of my previous blogs. Warnings: Dark romance. Slight violence. Predator and prey vibes. Summary: Upon discovering Tyler is the monster in your story, you find yourself still ensnared in his trap. There's nowhere to run.

NEVERMORE WAS SUPPOSED to be a sanctuary for the outcasts. A place where they could be educated in their own history and become part of a larger community. It had started that way for you but had quickly turned into so much more.

        Jericho used to be nothing more than a blip on the map that you hadn’t even realized existed. If only it had stayed that way. You wished you had never come to Nevermore. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been swept up in some monster hunt whose main target was now the boy you had come to love.

        Tyler Galpin had reeled you in with his boyish charm that shrouded the literal beast inside. You hadn’t wanted to believe it—had wanted to continue to brush off his increasingly strange behavior with lame excuses—but you couldn’t deny it when faced with the evidence. Especially after Wednesday had come to you with everything she had learned during her research.

        Dead leaves crunched beneath your feet as they wore a small patch by Crackstone’s Crypt. Principal Weems had expelled Wednesday just a few hours ago for her determination to hunt and take down the Hyde. Everything felt like it was crumbling through your fingers down to the last speck of dust. Wednesday was expelled, Xavier was in jail, and Tyler was a free beast who still managed to have your heart in his lethal claws.

        “Fuck!” You paused your pacing, picked up a rock by the steps, and threw it as hard as you could into the depths of the woods. It ricocheted off a tree and scaled away strips of bark. You let loose a breath, plopped down on the steps leading into the crypt, and buried your face in your hands.

        How had everything gone so terribly wrong in such a short amount of time?

        Footsteps carried someone around the side of Joseph Crackstone’s final resting place. You whipped your head towards the sound. A familiar face rounded into your view. One that you had once been eager to see. But now, as they approached you, the only thing you felt were the icy fingers of fear.

        You leapt to your feet and staggered back a few steps. 

        Tyler paused to raise his hands. “It’s just me,” he said. Despite looking exhausted, he still sported that smile that used to melt your insides to the pathetic mess of a teenage girl with her first love.

        He took a few steps towards you but stopped again when you retreated. The smile fell immediately. Hurt shuttered his eyes. Eyes that had always looked at you with a soft warmth that made you feel safe. Your heart twisted painfully.

        “(Y/N),” he chuckled wryly, “you don’t really believe her, do you?”

        You didn’t want to believe her. You wanted to deny it until you’d convinced yourself that it wasn’t true. You wanted to lie and make yourself believe that he wasn’t the Hyde that had been slaughtering his way through Jericho. But you couldn’t. You knew the truth.

        The answer was written all over your face without you even having to say anything. You wrapped your arms around yourself as a gust of wind blew through. Tyler smiled again at your silence and closed the distance between you. Your muscles were primed to run, but your feet felt rooted to the earth beneath them. 

        He stopped in front of you. Your breath stilled in your throat as he studied you. Then he pulled you in for a hug. His body felt warm against your chilled skin, acting as a shield from the unfavorable weather, but his muscles were stiff. Rigid. He’d just gone through hell. You told yourself that was the reason for his tense hold as you slowly wrapped your arms around his middle.

        He tightened his arms around you. “You’ve always been a bad liar.”

        His hand suddenly snatched the back of your neck and pulled you back to look at you. Any trace of the Tyler you’d thought you saw had been erased. The malign smirk he gave you had shivers skittering up your spine.

        “You’ve known for a while.” It wasn’t a question. He’d known you’d had your suspicions as much as you’d tried to believe otherwise. You’d known that something was wrong. That he was connected to the murders in some way.

        Your round eyes watered as he held you in place. It wasn’t often you were left speechless. But any words you could say crumbled to ash on your tongue. There wasn’t anything you could say that would change the truth. You could deny, you could confess, you could evade—but none of those options gave you any insight to a possible outcome.

        Tyler hummed, rubbing his thumb back and forth on the nape of your neck. “I enjoy it, you know,” he said. His other hand slithered to curve around your hip—a touch that had once felt so intimate, but now had your heart pounding for a new, frightening reason. “The screams and the blood, the fear… I can taste it, and you know what, (Y/N)?”

        He pulled you in closer. So close that his lips nearly touched yours. Your hands flew up to his chest, but you didn’t know whether it was to keep him at bay or invite him to continue.

        “It tastes delicious,” he whispered, “and I can smell it on you now.”

        You whimpered as the fear banded your chest. Your legs felt weak, like they were going to collapse on you at any second, leaving you further at his mercy. They might have buckled had he not been there to hold you in place.

        Tyler pressed forward to kiss you. His lips felt hard and cold against yours. Nothing like the soft and passionate kisses you’d shared in the past. He moved his hand around to the small of your back to press your body flush against his. You knew he could feel how hard your heart pounded in your chest.

        Nobody would be able to come save you in time if you were to scream out for help. There was no way for you to overpower him. Not even long enough for you to try to make a run for it. Especially not once he transformed into the Hyde. He seemed to be in control of his actions right now, but you feared he wouldn’t once the monster took over. No one knew if Hydes had any control over what they did. Even Faulkner had died before being able to answer that question.

        “We’re in this together, (Y/N). You and I.” Tyler touched his forehead to yours. The tears clinging to your lashes slowly trickled down your face while you trembled in his hands, terrified beyond sanity yet not having the strength to fight back against him. “What do you say? Hmm?” he murmured.

        Knowing there was no way out, you nodded your head just enough for him to detect the movement. He clicked his tongue and leaned back. His fingers grabbed your chin hard enough to leave throbbing imprints against your chilled skin. You winced and tried to jerk your head back. He yanked your face back to his.

        “Say it,” he demanded. Darkness bled into his eyes as he stared at you. This wasn’t your Tyler. Not anymore. He’d stopped being the boy you fell in love with the second he went through the transformation. The loss wrenched your heart inside of your chest.

        Your head started to swim dangerously. “You and I,” you whispered roughly.

        Tyler seemed pleased with your answer. He wiped the tears from your cheeks and cradled his face in your hands. You closed your eyes and let your fingers curl around his wrists. His lips came down to yours once more, and against your better judgement, you kissed him back this time.

        Tyler Galpin might not have been the devil, but in that moment, you felt as though you had just signed your soul away.