#{ no escape from reality; ooc } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

always-just-red · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

Text

bad idea, right? | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,

notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so… enjoy :)

word count: 4.6k

Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.

Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.

You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.

Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.

“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”

To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.

“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.

The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.

She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”

“Did you get a name?!”

After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.

With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”

Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.

Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Finnick.”

********

Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.

Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.

A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.

Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.

Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”

“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”

You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.

“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”

“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”

“Thanks, mum!”

You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.

Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.

District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.

Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.

Oh, fuck me.

He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.

“Finnick,” you greeted.

“Y/N.”

He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.

Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.

Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.

“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”

You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.

“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”

“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”

Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”

He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”

“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”

Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.

You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?

Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.

But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.

Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.

So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.

In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”

He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”

And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”

Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”

You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.

“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”

Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.

This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”

Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.

“I want you,” he whispered.

You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”

He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.

Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.

A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.

Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.

You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”

His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.

“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.

You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.

“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”

Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”

Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.

“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.

He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.

You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.

“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.

Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”

The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”

“That’s right.”

Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.

Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.

And, well, you did.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.

“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”

With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.

With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.

The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.

Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.

“Turn around,” he said, and you did.

You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.

Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.

The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.

You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.

Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.

Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.

“Oh god,” you gasped.

The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.

It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.

You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.

Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.

“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.

His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.

“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.

He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.

“Harder!” you cried.

Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.

His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.

“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”

You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.

He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—

“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”

A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.

You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.

Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.

*********

“Don’t leave again.”

Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.

“Finnick…” you sighed.

“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”

The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.

Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.

You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.”

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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bchemianrhapscdy-archived · 2 years ago

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hello everybody! I guess, it’s time to let you know I’m not dead. As I’ve been telling for ages, I really lacked muse lately and life was really busy and I just knew I had to take a short break from writing to get back into the swing of things. There had been many times where I tried to return but I never made it. That’s why I made the decision of shutting this blog down and bring this era to an end. It’s sad but I think it’s best for me.

And to ring in the new era, I would love to have a few of you guys (those who still wanna write with me) follow me over on my new blog @bchemianrhapscdyy. I will archive this blog as soon everything is settled on the new one. I’ve been working really hard on characters bios, a big weakness of mine, and I’m happy to say that I nearly finished all of them. I will have my new blog set up perfectly with every information you need about my people. And I’m happy to write them all with you.

I have tons of starters and asks that are still waiting for a reply and I will look through them and probably answer most or all of them. As for my current threads, I’m gonna look through them as well, reply to those I still have muse for or start something new and fresh. Of course, I will let people know, which ones I’m dropping. If there’s anything you wanna drop, let me know as well, or feel free to link me in a new starter.

I plan on returning in July. I have another Harry concert coming up on July 6th so I will be out of town for the 6th and 7th. But otherwise, I hope I can already start writing a few things before that.

Once again, I’m really sorry for taking so long and not giving out any sign of what happened or what’s going on. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.

And to bring this post to an end, I hope I get to see a lot of people over on my new blog and we can continue writing.

Love you all <3

#{ no escape from reality; ooc }

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saintobio · 6 months ago

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⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹ ON TRACK.

when being the WAG of a rookie MotoGP rider earns you the front-row seats to a thrilling race and... an unsightly amount of groupies.

▞▞ pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

▞▞ genre. fluff, established relationship, biker boy au, motogp rider au

▞▞ tags. biker!sukuna, motogp rider!sukuna, sukuna rides for ducati, WAG!reader, ooc, profanity, mentions of reckless driving, jealousy, insecurities, accidents, mentions of injuries, sukuna gets a little touchy in the end

▞▞ notes. 1.8k wc. do we miss biker!sukuna? i think we all miss biker!sukuna !! bahaha the influx of biker!sukuna fanarts made me write this. and also bcos i watched motogp clips on tiktok. rbs and comments highly appreciated! :D

Have you ever imagined Sukuna as a MotoGP rider?

Well, his passion for bikes didn’t just stay confined to the open road. He knew he was destined for more than just the city’s freeways and the thrill of 1000cc machines. He was, as a matter of fact, made for the track.

Yes, the scary, dangerous, exhilarating world of high-speed competition.

When he had first told you about competing in MotoGP, you were thrilled for him. Truly, because you knew that the series had been his lifelong dream. Before, he was just a little boy who collected bikes for toys, and now he had the chance to make his dream a reality. So, who were you to stand in the way of that?

In fact, you were incredibly supportive—always present at his races, always cheering for him from the stands. It didn’t matter if you’d lose your voice the next day. You had to be his biggest supporter. And today was just another one of those days where your duty as his #1 fan called for you to be there and root for him with all your heart.

Today’s MotoGP race was in full swing, and your heart pounded in rhythm with the thundering bikes tearing down the track. They all passed by in a resounding zoom! where your eyes could barely keep up from their otherworldly speed. From your vantage point in the VIP section, you watched intently as the riders navigated the circuit, your eyes never straying far from one rider in particular—Sukuna, your longtime boyfriend, riding a Ducati Desmosedici GP24.

“I’m so nervous,” you murmured, hands clasped together as your eyes remained glued to your lover.

Sukuna was a sight to behold on the track, and he always told you that his bike was an extension of himself as he maneuvered with precision and aggression. Honestly, it must be scary to be the one riding such powerful superbikes, especially when the roar of engines alone was a symphony of speed and power that sent chills down your spine. And while you were filled with anxiety watching your boyfriend on the circuit, the red and black Ducati eventually flashed past, neck and neck with the Aprilia rider, and the two bikes locked in a fierce battle for the lead.

You could imagine the commentators keeping a close eye as they narrated the race on live television.

But you trusted in Sukuna’s talent. His ability to escape from cops with his old R6 back in his college days was proof enough of how ridiculous he could get with his speed. He didn’t get a single ticket because he managed to outrun them all. Though, of course, that wasn’t something you should be mentioning to anyone. He wasn’t actually proud of notoriety and history of reckless driving before, especially when he recalled having endangered your life once before while you rode with him as his backpack.

And since Sukuna upgraded to being a professional rider now, you had your fair share of an upgrade, too. That manifested in the form of being part of the so-called WAGs—or wives and girlfriends of the racers. Life as a WAG wasn’t drastically different from your previous one, except now your boyfriend was a huge global sensation in the biker community, and you had become somewhat of a fashion icon yourself. That wasn’t even an exaggeration, because every time you were seen with him publicly, people would soon be talking about your off-duty looks and outfits all over social media.

But going back to the main star of the show, your hands clenched around the railing, knuckles white, as the race progressed. It annoyed you that the Aprilia rider was pushing him to the edge but never quite managing to overtake. Tailing the two were the riders for Honda, Gresini, Pramac, and KTM among the few.

Cupping your hands around your mouth, you cheered for your boyfriend. “Go, baby! Let’s go!”

The giant screen above the track zoomed in on Sukuna, his Arai helmet fitting the aesthetics of his big, red bike. The effortless way he handled his bike sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd. There were lots of cheering, screaming, roaring, and… well, squealing. Your head naturally turned to the group of girls nearby who were the very cause of the high pitched noises, their squeals of delight making the other WAGs around you shake their heads in amusement.

“Oh my God, he’s so hot!”

“Look at him! He’s perfect!”

“Sukuna, marry me!”

“I’ll give you my number later!”

“God, I wanna hook up with him.”

“Girl, me too!”

“You think we should wait outside his hotel later?”

“Count me in!”

Groupies. You felt a surge of pride mixed with a twinge of jealousy as you watched their frenzied adoration for your boyfriend. Literally. Your fingers were itching to gouge their eyes out. You wondered if he had ever been tempted to cheat, that when you were busy with your own corporate life outside of being his girlfriend, he might have rewarded himself by sleeping with an influencer or two. Probably models, too. Those tall, gorgeous women who often get partnered with him on ads and photoshoots.

But the thing was, you couldn’t blame them—yes, your boyfriend was undeniably handsome, and his chiseled features and intense gaze made him a magnet for attention. A true eye-candy if you may add. Not to mention, he had the most attractive tattoos you had seen in a man. Ever.

But he was yours, and that knowledge filled you with a sense of triumph over the hundreds and thousands of girls that were fantasizing about him.

Then, in the middle of your trance, an accident struck.

It was a blur of red and black as Sukuna’s bike suddenly wobbled after the rear wheel slipped on a patch of oil left behind by another rider. You held your breath in, praying to every saint that he remained safe, as you watched him struggle to regain control while the bike fishtailed dangerously.

“Oh, gosh. Oh, gosh.” Your brain rattled with anxiety as you gripped onto the railings. “Baby, no. No, be careful! You got this!”

For a moment, it seemed he might manage to stay upright, but then the inevitable happened. Sukuna went down in a matter of seconds, and his bike skidded out from under him in a shower of sparks.

“Oh, shit!”

A collective gasp rose from the crowd, and your heart was lurching in your chest as you saw how your lover hit the tarmac. The medics immediately rushed onto the track, while you were still awestricken as you stared at the screen displaying his fall.

“Please be okay, baby! Please,” you muttered under your breath again and again.

A fellow WAG eventually placed a hand on your shoulders, rubbing you comfortingly. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Their gears are made for this.”

She spoke like true champ, and you knew you could put some trust in her words since she was a seasoned WAG. She had probably seen worst accidents that her husband had gone through while on track.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself. What if Sukuna sustained really terrible injuries? What if he broke a bone or two? What if he experienced a concussion? And if he did, what if he’d no longer remember you when he wakes up? Oh, Jesus. Your overthinking was the true culprit here. Yet there was nothing you could really do but wait for good news and hope that nothing too serious happened. Seconds felt like hours, and you were almost about to faint until you saw Sukuna finally standing up between the medics that surrounded him, waving to signal that he was okay albeit limping a little.

“Thank fuck!”

“See? I told you he’s fine.”

Relief flooded through you, but unfortunately, such joy ended up being short-lived. Sukuna had lost precious seconds in the fall, seconds that allowed the Aprilia to pull ahead. And by the time he got back on his bike and rejoined the race, the gap was already too wide.

He crossed the finish line in fifth place, a position that felt like a heart-shattering defeat after having been so close to victory.

As soon as the race was over, you didn’t even think twice when you made your way down to the paddock, pushing through the crowd and the throng of zealous fans just to reach your boyfriend. Your heart was still racing, almost akin to the superbikes that were speeding on the track moments ago, as you desperately looked for the love of your life. Only when you rounded the corner did you finally see him, helmet off and leathers dusty from the fall, talking with his team.

“Lovey!” you called out, face full of worry.

Sukuna was quick to turn at the sound of your voice, his expression softening the very moment his eyes landed on you. With long strides, he removed hi’s gloves and closed the distance between you two, and before you knew it, you were wrapped in his arms, the scent of leather and motor oil enveloping you in a comforting hug.

“Are you okay?” you asked, pulling back just enough to search his face for any signs of injury. “I was losing my mind back there!”

As if he didn’t just experience a dangerous fall, he had a mischievous smile displayed when he looked at you. “I’m fine, baby. Just a little bruised ego.”

“It’s not a joke,” you whined, arms crossed at his lack of seriousness to the matter. “I was so scared when I saw you go down."

Very sweetly, he cupped your face in his hands and nuzzled his nose against yours. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m still alive, right?”

That’s true, you thought. But also… “You came in fifth,” you said, letting out a quieted sigh.

But the Ducati rider himself was merely chuckling. Not even an ounce of heartbreak was shown on bis face. “Fifth place isn’t the end of the world, babe. I can live with that.”

You shook your head, not understanding how he could be so calm. Really. “But you were so close. You could have won!” And you’d blame it on your hormones, but you remembered the group of girls who cheered him on and decided to bring it up. “By the way, you had all those girls ready to throw themselves at you earlier. One of them even suggested waiting outside your hotel to hook up with you.”

“Really? Where are those baddies?” he joked, looking around and trying to spot the girls until you flicked his forehead. “Ow! I was just kidding, babe. You’re the only one riding this dick day and night.”

“Not funny.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re jealous.” He started attacking your cheeks with squeezes.

While you, you tried your best to swat his hand away. “I’m not. Stooop—! You’re so annoying!”

“Okay, okay!” He let out a deep chuckle as he raised his hands in surrender. “Anyway, I don’t care about them. I’ve already won the most important race of all."

You blinked twice in the same second, not comprehending his words. “What do you mean?”

Sukuna’s eyes soon softened into a teasing gaze. “I have my beautiful girl in my arms right now. That’s the only victory that matters to me.”

As much as you tried to contain it, a smile eventually broke across your face. “You’re such a sap!”

“Only for you,” was his elfish response, pulling you closer.

The celebrations continued around you as the media and the crowd swarmed into the paddock. Sukuna held your waist tightly the entire time, all while acknowledging the people that greeted him and asked him for signatures. While in his arms, you realized that he was right. Winning or losing on the track didn’t matter because he already had you—and that was his true and greatest victory.

As cringe-worthy as that may sound.

“I do have a request, though.” Your boyfriend focused his attention back on you, giving your bum a playful squeeze in front of everyone before he moved his face closer to your ear. “Make me feel like a winner in bed tonight.”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #biker sukuna #biker au #biker boy au

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bchemianrhapscdy · 7 months ago

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Hello all you lovely people <3

I'm back from the dead! The past months had been really busy for me with everything going on in my life. Most importantly making my outfit for the Eras Tour in Gelsenkirchen. Now that my concert is sadly over, I will be finding more time to be around again. And I'm in a lot of muse.

Missed you all so much. Hope everyone is doing fine.

#no escape from reality ( ooc )

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exorcxqsm · 5 months ago

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You always belonged with me.

word Count: 4,6k

tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, ooc Sylus (how his myth could be in my head), toxic relationship, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, non-sexual choking, spanking, creampies, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, angel), dirty talking, sylus refers to reader's pussy as "she"

Extra Warning: This story contains altered religious themes and biblical references that may lead me to hell. If you are religious or uncomfortable with the prospect of such writing, please, for your own sake, do not proceed with this story. Consider yourself warned.

Centuries ago, you were banned from stepping foot in the place you once called home. You would do anything to return, and tonight was your chance to try your last resort: the man who had damned you to this position in the first place.

It wasn’t the first time you felt the unsettling sensation of being followed while navigating the N109 Zone. This place was notorious for its shadows—every corner seemed to harbor someone lurking, ready to pry into the lives of others.

You had grown accustomed to this unease; after all, this had been your home for years, both before and after the catastrophe that left the area hollow and desolate. In the aftermath, people became harsher, their kindness stripped away by the events that reshaped the lives of everyone in the zone.

Your feet carried you into one of the bars at the far end of town. You couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle at the absurdity of a security guard standing at the door. Everyone knew this wasn’t a typical nightclub—not that anything here could be considered “normal.” This establishment had a reputation as a bloodbath. The guards weren’t there to ensure anyone's safety of course, except for one man: The leader of Onychinus.

Onychinus was a mysterious faction entrenched in the N109 Zone. Unlike other shady groups, they were omnipresent, weaving a vast web of corruption that controlled every illegal activity within the area.

Sylus was not just the head of this dangerous organization; he was regarded as the ruler of the entire underworld. Whispers of his cruelty and insatiable thirst for power circulated like a broken record, echoing through the streets.

People were terrified of him, yet he intrigued many. Tales circulated about his almost supernatural presence—more than just a human leader, he was said to command the night with his sinfully crafted horns and shadowy wings that cast an ominous veil over the town, keeping it cloaked in darkness twenty-four hours a day.

Imagination was a double-edged sword; it could inspire or deceive. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time you overheard whispers about Sylus—tales that veered more towards horror folklore than reality.

The guard fixed his gaze on you, waiting for your entry pass to the club—or, more accurately, the colosseum that lay hidden beneath it. You brushed aside the blonde locks of your wig, letting the brooch of the zone glimmer against your dress, perched just above your chest.

His scrutinizing look was intense, and you could almost sense the gears turning in his mind. “How come I haven’t seen you here before?”

You maintained an expressionless facade, keeping your tone steady under his interrogation. You hoped that the extensive alterations to your appearance—from the wig and colored contacts to your evol that allowed you to adopt features from those you encountered—would obscure any resemblance to the posters plastered throughout the N109 Zone. The bounty on your head had sent ripples of tension through the underworld, but you felt surprisingly calm.

“I usually don’t have to watch business unfold, but tonight is special. You know what I mean.”

His eyes widened in surprise at the implication of your words, and without another word, he stepped aside to grant you entry. As you passed him, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You silently thanked whatever entity governed fate that your deception had gone unnoticed. It was all too easy to make someone believe in your power when you wore the brooch of Onychinus and spoke the right lingo about their underground dealings.

Technically, you didn’t own the brooch; it was stolen. Yet, perched on your chest, it pretty much seemed yours now. You needed access to the inner workings of the N109 Zone, and now you had it—thanks to a clever ruse involving a brief fainting spell in Luke’s arms, where you knew he kept his brooch tucked beneath the leather of his uniform.

As you navigated through the thrumming crowd, the same unsettling sensation crept over you—the feeling of being watched. The intensity of the gaze made you squirm, though you weren’t afraid. Still, you weren’t naive enough to believe that things couldn’t escalate quickly in this dangerous territory, especially while carrying a stolen item belonging to one of the leader’s henchmen.

Scanning your surroundings, you located the secret passage that led downstairs, directly to the imposing double doors of the hidden colosseum. This was a place where fights occurred every night—not just any fights, but brutal spectacles centered around bets on altered and modified wanderers.

Once, this arena served as a testing ground for a wanderer’s limits, but it had devolved into chaos when the underworld began modifying protocores. They injected these enhancements into creatures, unleashing them to tear each other apart in front of a bloodthirsty audience.

The spectators were all too aware that most wanderers were not contained within the arena. For many, death was an inevitable risk they accepted when they chose to witness these horrific displays. People entered with a significant chance of never leaving.

Those who did survive not only walked away richer, based on the wanderers they had bet on, but so did the modifiers. Yet, the one truly profiting from these nights was Sylus. He monopolized the protocores, wielding an unparalleled influence over the creatures, ensuring they possessed the strength necessary to dominate any other fighters.

He was never present during the fights, always lurking in the shadows. You needed to draw him out, for he possessed something you desperately wanted—something you needed.

So, here you sat at the front, betting everything you had on a wanderer from a mysterious modifier who remained anonymous. The bet managers had eyed you curiously when you placed such a substantial amount of gold on a creature that wasn’t one of Sylus’s creations, especially from someone unknown.

You forced yourself to relax your shoulders and crossed your legs as the announcement echoed through the arena, signaling that the fight was about to commence. The massive bars on the left side creaked open first, revealing a wanderer from Onychinus. It emerged like a beast from the depths of hell, its massive form glowing a menacing red beneath its bark-like exterior.

Then, the bars on your side opened, and the arena fell into a tense silence, punctuated only by a few gasps. From the darkness stepped a lone human. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the imminent clash as you waited for the wanderer to attack your chosen fighter.

Snickers rippled through the crowd when the human not only failed to evade the incoming assault but instead stumbled back, his head slamming against the ground with a dull thud.

The impact caused the injected formula to rupture, and in that moment, the modified essence surged through him, transforming his body into a near-giant, nearly matching the size of the opposing wanderer. Veins on his bare skin glowed a fierce red, and his pupils elongated into slits reminiscent of a cat's, radiating an intensity that resembled molten lava.

Showtime.

It didn’t take long for Onychinus’s creation to be shredded to pieces, your chosen fighter standing triumphantly atop the remnants of what had once been a formidable wanderer.

A tense silence enveloped the crowd, and no one dared to breathe as you rose from your seat and made your way toward the exit. Just before stepping out, you turned to lock eyes with the victor in the arena, whispering softly yet confidently, knowing he could hear you clearly.

"Such a good job.”

The night air was brisk against your bare back, your dress clinging to your figure and leaving little to the imagination as you walked down the narrow alleys of the town. You could almost feel the moment the atmosphere shifted, a new energy surrounding you.

A smirk crept onto your lips as you heard the steady, heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

You turned your head slightly, speaking over your shoulder to give him only a glimpse of your profile and your back.

“At last, we meet again.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement as his gaze roamed over your form. You could alter your appearance as much as you wished, but he would never forget the sound of your voice. Yet, he seemed to struggle with the reality of facing you after all this time.

“Let me see you, sweetie,” he said, his voice deeper than you remembered, yet still carrying that velvety, sultry tone.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest. With a slight tilt of your head, you took in his figure. He had changed significantly over the centuries. He stood taller, with broader shoulders, and his muscles strained against the dress shirt he wore. His white hair, once reaching his waist, was now cut close to his scalp, with only the front strands long enough to fall messily over his forehead.

Sylus clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “The real you.”

“I’ve changed,” you replied, your tone clipped and resolute.

He took measured steps toward you, closing the distance until you found yourself craning your neck to meet his gaze. His eyes lingered on your face, absorbing every detail. “I haven’t seen you in forever…” he whispered, his voice calm yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Before you could react, his hand shot out, grasping your wig and yanking it away, allowing your natural hair to cascade down your back. “Don’t mistake our time apart as a reason for me to forget every single detail about you, kitten.”

You tried to steady your breathing, striving to appear unaffected by his words. Not once did you break eye contact with him as you allowed the energy of your evol to envelop you, restoring your true features and washing away the alterations that felt like long-forgotten memories.

Sylus’s eyes darkened slightly as he took you in, his hand rising to brush his knuckles against your jaw with a featherlight touch. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” His gaze shifted to the brooch resting on your dress.

“So do you,” you replied, your words drawing his attention away from the stolen item on your chest. His brows furrowed into a small frown as he struggled to comprehend your statement.

Something clicked in his mind then, and he seized your hand, forcefully lifting it to inspect your wrist. There it was—the one symbol he himself wore, deeply carved into your skin. It glowed an angry carmine, signaling your fall from grace.

A huff escaped his lips as he locked eyes with you again. “Is this the reason you pulled that little stunt back there? You thought I wouldn’t find out about you being the mysterious modifier you placed a bet on?”

“This—” you seethed, leaning closer to him, your frustration palpable, “is your fault. I need to get back, Sylus. This isn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh?” His smirk turned diabolical as he pressed his chest against yours, his face inches from yours. “And where exactly are you supposed to be, sweetie? By his side?”

Your patience wore thin. “Yes.”

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat, devoid of any humor. “His little angel. Tell me, did you think of him, too, when you were clenching around my cock, as if you couldn’t live without me?”

Your gasp shattered the silence of the night, followed by the sharp crack of your slap against his cheek. “That was a mistake. You were a mistake, Sylus.”

His eyes shifted, the warm carmine hue darkening to an abyssal black, all warmth evaporating from his gaze. “I was?”

You didn’t respond to him immediately, taking a step back to regain some semblance of control over the situation. You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I need to get back, and you’re going to help me, Sylus. What we—what I did was a mistake, and I can’t let it keep me away from home.”

Sylus turned his head away, closing his eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as amusement wrinkled the skin at the edges of his gaze. “Was it really your home, sweetie?”

“It was. Just as it was yours, once upon a—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” In an instant, he was back in front of you, his hand tightening around your throat. The burning symbol on his wrist glowed vividly, exposed by the way his cuff had ridden up during the movement. “That place was never my home. He never wanted me there; He only wanted to control me.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice came out strained under the pressure of his grip, yet you didn’t flinch or attempt to remove his hand. “He loves you.”

“Is that why he banished me, hmm? Because he loves me?” His tone turned harsh, slicing through the air like a blade. “Does he love you as well? Is his love for you what sent you falling right after me?”

Your breathing grew erratic, each word he spoke igniting a fire on your own wrist. The more you allowed his words to penetrate your defenses, the more intense the burning sensation became. “We defied him, Sylus. You betrayed him most of all; you are the only reason you’ve fallen.”

His grip on your throat tightened to the point where you had to part your lips to draw in a breath. “Is this what you really believe, sweetie? The fallen angel, scorched by his own sins, sealing his fate away from his brother’s home.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and you instinctively reached up to wrap your fingers around his wrist, struggling against the pressure crushing your windpipe. “I didn’t think you’d be as naive as them.”

“Sylus…” It was difficult to speak now; tears threatened to spill from your eyes. As if he had just realized the extent of the pressure he was applying, he relaxed his grip slightly, allowing you a precious gulp of air. “He can still forgive you. You just never sought him out.”

“You shouldn’t either, angel.” His thumb crept slowly toward your bottom lip, caressing it with a tenderness that felt foreign to his nature. “Do you forget all the times you sought me out? You've always known where your true home lies—by my side. You were always meant to fall with me. Fall for me.”

“No!” You struggled to squirm away from his grasp, desperate to create some space between you. Nothing was ever easy with him. All he needed to do was utter the right words, the incantation that could undamn you, granting you entry back into Heaven without the mark of eternal sin burning your skin.

He seemed almost pleased to see you after all those centuries apart, still trapped down here, far from the place you both once called home. You had foolishly fallen into his sinful embrace, and in doing so, had condemned yourself. He had welcomed you into his own home, promising you a place beside him on his throne, where you would truly belong—with him.

“Speak the words, damn it!” Your voice was nearly a plea as you struggled against him, but he was growing stronger by the second, and he had no intention of letting you go again.

“You don’t belong with him, sweetie. Don’t you see?” His breathing was calm, almost effortless, as he kept you trapped in his grip. “I would never abandon you like he did.”

“I sinned,” you breathed out, feeling yourself pressed completely against his body as he maneuvered you, forcing your back against the cold surface of the alley wall.

His taut form pressed against yours in all the right ways, his head dipping down to find your pulse point, nibbling at the sensitive skin there. Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed by a mix of shame and desire.

“Is this a sin, angel?” His teeth grazed your neck, and you instinctively placed your hands on his chest, attempting to push him away. “Your body was made to provide you with pleasure, so tell me… Why is this a sin?”

A whimper escaped your lips as he emphasized his question by sucking on your skin, his hips pressing forward to brush against your abdomen with his slowly hardening erection. The symbol on your wrist felt like it was igniting, the heat intensifying with every movement he made. “Sylus—”

“Shh… You’ve talked enough.” In an instant, his lips were on yours, a surprised gasp escaping you. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, his hands finding their way to the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

As you surrendered to the moment, you sensed a shift in your peripheral vision. When you tried to pull away to catch your breath, your eyes widened in awe at the sight transforming before you, your mouth falling open.

Sylus’s carmine eyes began to glow, a tearing sound echoing through the alley as massive black wings unfurled from his back, their feathers cascading down to the ground beside his shoes. Your heart swelled with a mix of awe and longing, unable to recall the last time you had seen him like this.

Your pupils dilated, drinking in the striking transformation. His wings, once the purest of whites, had morphed into a dark, charcoal hue, contrasting sharply with his blood-red eyes. Despite the sharp edges of his new form, he remained what everyone described him as; the most beautiful angel of all.

Before you could fully process the shift in the air, his lips were on you again, his hands roaming down your body with an urgency that took your breath away. You had half a mind to pull away, but the heat radiating from your skin was intoxicating. One of his palms settled against the back of your thigh, lifting it until it wrapped around his waist, granting him access to grind against your clothed cunt.

A deep groan rumbled from his throat, and you swallowed it into the kiss, your own moan echoing softly into the night. His head dipped lower, his mouth closing around your breast, the fabric of your dress quickly becoming damp with his saliva. He seemed ravenous, impatience evident in his every movement as he nipped at the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure through you that made your back arch, pushing your breasts further into his eager mouth.

“Sylus…” you moaned, your voice almost breathless, the night taking a turn you hadn’t anticipated when you first stepped into that colosseum.

“I can feel you soaking through my pants, angel,” he grunted into your chest, his hips driving into you once more. “You came here to ask me to deliver you back to him, yet you’re dripping all over me.”

His tone was possessive and almost feral as he threaded his fingers to the neckline of your dress, pushing it down until it rested beneath your breasts, exposing your skin to his eager lips. He began to lap his tongue over your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

Impatience bubbled within you, your body writhing and squirming against him and the wall as you struggled to make a decision. This was a mistake you had made before, one that had cost you your place in Heaven, yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop when your entire being buzzed with the pleasure only he could provide.

His white locks brushed against your collarbone, a teasing sensation that made you shiver. You seized the opportunity to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer even as you tried to push him away, the conflicting desires overwhelming you.

“Don’t deny me.” Sylus’s voice dripped with lust as he locked his glowing eyes onto yours, then fell to his knees, lifting your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself perfectly in front of your clothed cunt, his presence filling the narrow alley. “Embrace me."

“I—” You were breathless, your legs trembling as you took in the sight of him, the way his eyes glowed like embers in the darkness and how his wings loomed large behind him, dominating the space. It was impossible to resist him, yet a flicker of resolve still burned within you. “I can’t, Sylus. He—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he growled, his tongue darting out to tease your panties, and you buckled, a scream tearing from your throat as pleasure shot through you, leaving you gasping.

He glided his fingers along your damp underwear, the soft fabric clinging to you as he brought them up to show you how much they glistened with your arousal. “How dare you speak his name when she’s crying for me?”

You felt as if you were burning, heat radiating from every inch of your body as he tore the fabric with one powerful tug, leaving you bare before him. “Let me remind you what it felt like, sweetie.”

His mouth was on your cunt before you could catch your breath, his tongue lapping eagerly at your folds, devouring you like a man starved. “Such a sweet pussy, angel.”

You mewled and moaned in a symphony of pleasure, your senses overlapping until all that existed was the way his teeth grazed your clit and how his mouth enveloped you completely. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine as you ground your hips against his face, seeking the delicious friction of his nose against your sensitive bud while he pushed his tongue deep into your welcoming heat.

“Sylus, please…” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, but he did. With a swift motion, he brought one hand up, slipping a finger inside you alongside his tongue. “Ah—Oh my God!”

Just as quickly as his mouth and finger were there, they vanished, and when you tried to protest, a yelp escaped your throat as a sudden stinging heat greeted your pussy. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth when he slapped you again, the sound echoing in the dimly lit alley, your body doubling over as you nearly lost your balance. It was only his wings that moved toward you, enveloping you in a soft, feathery sanctuary, steadying you against the cool, rough wall behind.

The tone of his voice was a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his wings as he spoke, a low growl rumbling from deep within. “Calling out his name when you’re begging for me?”

Your eyes widened in shock as the realization of what you’d done washed over you, and your hands instinctively tangled in Sylus’s silken white locks, guiding his face toward where you craved him most once again. “I’m sorry, Sylus, ‘m so sorry…”

Another sharp slap echoed in the air, and you felt an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure surge through you, making you believe you could reach your peak from that sensation alone.

Your frustration simmered as you watched him rise from the ground, his full height towering over you, but relief flooded you when you saw him begin to tug at his belt, loosening his pants around his hips, though they remained on.

Without thinking, your hands rushed to the fabric, desperate to rid him of it, but Sylus only smacked your hand away. His mouth found your neck once more, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “Do you want me to take you, sweetie?”

“Please—”

“Do you want me to corrupt you like I did back then?” His teeth grazed your delicate skin, igniting a mix of pain and pleasure that made you cry out. “You came to my altar once, and now you can’t seem to get enough, can you?”

You hadn’t realized the tears streaming down your cheeks, a blend of overwhelming emotions and bliss, until Sylus’s tongue lapped beneath your eyes, capturing each drop. With a swift motion, he freed his cock from the confines of his pants, rubbing it against your entrance. “You can trick your foolish heart into believing you hate me. That you want to go back, but deep down, you know I am your home.”

He finished his sentence with one sharp thrust, his cock fully seated inside you. A loud moan escaped your lips, and you could swear someone would come searching the alley, finding you pressed against the wall, Sylus’s cock shattering any remaining sense of sanity you had left.

He set a relentless pace, barely allowing you time to adjust as you felt your walls clench around him, as if he were your lifeline and you were desperate to pull him inside you forever.

“Shit…” His groans came freely, raw and unrestricted, as he continued to fuck you against the wall. “I’ve missed you so much, angel.” He peppered your face with open-mouthed kisses, and your head tilted back, eyes crossing from the overwhelming pleasure.

“I—missed you too, Sy—” You struggled to form coherent words, your thoughts a jumbled mess of moans and whines, until the sound of approaching footsteps jolted you out of your blissful trance. You froze in Sylus’s arms, but your body reacted instinctively, clenching around him in a way that made his rhythm stutter for a moment.

He looked at you with a frown, but as he heard the footsteps, his smirk returned, and he picked up his pace. You gasped when you realized how close someone was, mere steps away from where Sylus was fucking you against the wall. His thrusts grew harder, his wings flaring out and slapping against the ground with the force of his movements.

“Sylus! Someone—” You tried to stifle your moans, but he was so deep that you could feel him pressing against your cervix, his hands gripping your hips with a force that would surely leave marks. “S-someone’s coming-”

No matter how alarming your voice sounded, there was no mistaking the way your walls squeezed his cock with each syllable. His eyes rolled back as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, whispering against them,

“You’re squeezing me dry, sweetie.” He breathed harder, his hand slipping down to play with your clit, drawing a cry from your lips that you couldn’t contain. “Does it excite you? The thought of someone coming along and seeing you like this?”

Your brain turned to mush under his double assault—his cock filling you completely and his finger teasing your pulsating clit. You struggled to hold onto yourself, but every brush against that sweet spot inside you sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you quivering.

“Do you want someone to catch you bouncing on my cock, angel? A sweet little creature making a mess on the Fallen Angel?” His thrusts became more animalistic, and in the haze of pleasure, you didn’t even notice that no one was nearing your hiding place anymore. Sylus kept pushing your sanity. “If only they knew that my cock was the reason you lost your own wings in the first place."

Your orgasm hit you like a bolt of lightning, your vision going white as you felt your pussy flutter and clench impossibly hard around Sylus’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, losing control as his hips retracted slightly before plunging back in, chasing his own sweet release. “Just like that, sweetie, give it all to me.”

Your thighs trembled around him, your body on the brink of surrender as you felt his last vestiges of control shatter.

Ropes of thick come filled you, coating your walls while his wings enveloped your body, sheltering you from anyone who might intrude and keeping you impossibly close. He continued until you were overflowing with his seed, leaking down your joined bodies, creating a mess on both of you, your moans echoing in the silence.

“You feel like Heaven, sweetie. Too bad you won’t be making it back.”

914 notes · View notes

jinxsequin · 25 days ago

Note

hiii!!! was wondering if you could write like a modern!au w powder/jinx, maybe them in uni?

ALIGHT ✧.*ೃ

| modern au!powder x fem!reader

| wc: 6.5k

| content/warnings: uni/college au, men dni, brief mention of violence (?) unintentional, fluff, kissing, mentions of anxiety & alcohol, maybe ooc powder, slightly weirdly paced writing, caitvi mentioned (couldn't help myself sorry), reader referred to as a girl, no mention of y/n, r & powder are both losers <3

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

Begrudgingly trekking down to the floors of the flat to escape the deafening sounds of the fire alarm, you joined the others on the field who had actually bothered getting out in the dead of the night for what was definitely the 5th practice alarm of the month. You’d almost not given in, the warmth your blankets had provided you too precious to lose. But the blaring of the alarm was unforgiving, and despite your efforts to block it out, the damage had been done - you were awake.

You stumbled clumsily onto the field, slippers being your swift choice of footwear was beginning to prove ineffective. The mix of people murmuring in the dark, complaining, some yawning hit your ears as you struggled to navigate the crowd of bodies. The field being pitch black wasn’t helping, but right as that thought had passed through your head, the blazing rays of a torchlight rendered you blind, the sight actually leaving your eyes for a solid minute. “Hey!,” you croaked out, squinting through the pain to see where it had come from. The culprit jumped in surprise, torch flying out of their hands and hitting the same affected eye with a whack. “OUCH,” was all you were able to yell, a hand instinctively clutched over the affected eye. As if the aching from the first incident hadn’t been enough, the throbbing pain pulsating in your eye now made you sure you were going to wake up with a nasty bruise.

“Oh fuck, I’m SO sorry, oh my god,” the voice of the offender rambled out, hands coming up to your shoulders in panic. Though the pain hadn’t subsided yet, you moved your hands from your eyes, opening them curiously to catch a glimpse of the owner of the voice. Your breath caught in your throat. Bright blue eyes flicked over your face, rosy lips turned down into a concerned frown. Choppy tresses the same colour as her alluring eyes, save for a singular pink streak, framed her freckled face. She was so breathtaking, the predicament you had found yourself in was slowly being forgotten.

“Hello, are you good? Do you need medical help?? Oh god, what have I done?” the panicked rambling forced you back to reality.

“I’m-It’s fine. It was an accident,” you managed to huff out, her hands sliding away from your shoulder as she stepped back. Her gaze still ran over your face, thoroughly examining you with a guilt-ridden expression. Your right eye was still burning with pain, but you couldn’t even really be that mad at a face like that. Though, you did make a mental note not to ever bother acting accordingly with the fire drill again - leaving your bed had only caused an embarrassing interaction with a very attractive woman.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The girl wasn’t letting go easily, eyebrows drawn in concern as she observed you trying to play it off, admittedly failing. You wished the ground would just open up and swallow you, this whole spectacle reducing you to a mumbling mess.

“I’m fine,” you forced yourself to speak with a cheer to your voice, facing the girl with a smile you prayed to whatever powers were listening was normal. “Look, doesn’t even hurt anymore,” you pulled your hand away from your face, instantly mentally facepalming for your choice of unconvincing words. The girl raised an eyebrow in incredulity, but nodded reluctantly. “I’m so, so sorry, again.”

You chose not to speak, opting for a shake of your head and a tiny smile. As if the gods above had decided your suffering was finally enough, the guards of the building had given the green light, announcing it was safe for everyone to finally go back in. You sighed in relief, shuffling as quickly as you could to get back into your bed and pretend this was just a dream.

Alas, your wish wasn’t granted - when you got in the elevator packed with several other people, who should at the last second sliver through the metal doors but the same blue-haired charmer from before. Her eyes briefly flashed in recognition as she took her spot besides you. Not daring to look, you watched out of the corner of your eye as she looked you up and down, a small smirk on her lips at your bear-covered pyjamas. You closed your eyes abruptly, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. Your cheeks burned, and you swore you heard a faint giggle from her as she caught sight of it. Motherfucker.

As soon as the elevator dinged, you hurried out, your room suddenly not being close enough. You finally reached it, hastily pulling your keys out to unlock the door.

“Oh hey, would you look at that,” the voice spoke cheerfully. You whipped around to meet the mischievous eyes of the girl standing in front of the room right across from you. “Looks like we’re neighbours, pretty girl!”

Your eyes widened at the boldness of the nickname. “Goodnight,” you uttered simply, pretending to ignore her taunting chuckle in response as you turned around and slammed the door behind you. You crashed onto the bed, throwing off your slippers and burrowing your head in the pillow. That was definitely a dream.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

It was most definitely not a dream. The morning after, the remnants of the impact ached, but for the most part you were unscathed. You shook off any distracting thoughts of the girl from last night, setting about having a productive day catching up with university work you’d been procrastinating. It was nearing the end of the afternoon when the knock came on your door. You looked up from your laptop screen, scanning your phone for any texts. None, and when any of your friends came over they always dropped a text beforehand to let you know. Your hands found your temples, massaging to alleviate the aching. Maybe attempting to study with the pain wasn’t the best idea, you thought as you stared hard at the door, as if willing hard enough would make the person behind it go away. It wouldn't - they knocked twice again, slightly louder this time. You sighed in relent and crossed the room, opening the door to whoever was behind.

And who else was it but the girl who’d plagued your thoughts all night. “You,” you breathed out, staring in surprise. You hadn’t meant to sound so contemptuous, regretting it when the girl’s confident gaze faltered for a second. She quickly recovered, holding up a plate. “Hi. I made cupcakes,” she grinned, gaze steadily scanning your face.

You stood back, wordlessly inviting her in, not knowing what else to do. She looked around for a place to put them, deciding your desk would do. She turned back to you watching her actions curiously, then moved towards you quickly. You barely held in your yelp of surprise as her cool hands came up to your face, fingers running under the skin underneath your eye. Your eyes fixed on her concentrated gaze, struggling to get any protest out, the proximity striking you dumb. “What are you doing…” you finally stumbled out, voice just a tone above a light whisper. She stepped back abruptly, hands dropping to her sides as she smiled nervously. “Thank god, toots, no damage done. How are you feeling?”

Your hand briefly ghosted over where her hands had just been. You’d already thoroughly examined the injured area in the mirror the moment you’d woken up, thankfully no mark had been left somehow. You shot her a look as she flopped down onto your bed, looking up at you expectedly. Resigning, you joined her on your bed, facing her.

“I’m completely fine,” your gaze flicked over to the sweet treat she’d set down on your desk, “thanks for the cupcakes though, you didn’t have to do all that,” replying genuinely. She smiled amusedly, waving a hand as if it was nothing. “Consider it an apology.” You returned her smile, the thoughtful gesture was a complete contradiction of her feigned nonchalance.

“So what’s all this,” she was holding a page of your dog-eared meticulously taken notes, trying to make out the words scribbled across it.

You rolled your eyes at her antics, “well I was studying.”

“Oh! What do you study?”

“Psychology,” you answered, shuffling the notes out of her reach, all plans of studying disturbed. “You?”

“Mechanical engineering. Different worlds then, huh?” she mused amusedly, shifting her position so she sat with her shoulder to yours.

“You could say that,” you replied, still not adjusted to how comfortable she had made herself next to you. The wildly different degrees and schedules answered your question of how you’d never seen her around despite how close she lived. But here she was, dropping into your room like you were best friends, and with cupcakes - not that you were ungrateful, just completely stumped.

She watched you closely, puffing her cheeks and blowing the air out as she figured out her next proposal. “So….what are we doing this evening?”

“We???” you shot back, though your lips curled up despite yourself.

“Yes, we,” she rolled her eyes lightheartedly, getting off your bed and walking backwards towards the door, “be ready in 15 minutes. Gonna show you the best sight you’ve ever laid your pretty eyes on,” she sang out.

“I don’t even know your name!” you called out.

“It’s Powder!” her voice laughed back, voice fading as the door swung shut. You barely had time to process what had just occurred before you remembered the time limit she’d given you, pulling yourself to hurriedly get ready.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

Ever since the day Powder had, by definition, dropped into your life, you’d become immeasurably close. Despite your slightly rocky start, from the night she’d shown you the hidden rooftop where you could observe the city’s twinkling lights for miles, you’d grown a bond that was undoubtedly unbreakable.

Of course, it wasn’t immediate. Though you’d absolutely taken a liking to Powder, perhaps even from the moment she’d hit that torch over your eye - putting yourself out there wasn’t really a thing for you. You much preferred to stick to your own small circle of friends, the familiarity calming your nerves. But then Powder had come along, the very picture of candidness, spontaneity and openness - everything so unfamiliar it surprised you how much you craved more when you were apart. Though Powder was never away for too long.

Thinking back to the first evening you’d hung out, how she had her head thrown back, laughing at something insignificant you’d said. Calming down and nudging your shoulder with hers, so casually throwing out “I think we’re going to be good friends, you know,” watching you as you stared back at her, smiling softly. She’d been so playful the entire evening, wary of your resistance, but you truly felt the genuinity her words conveyed for the first time that night and it set your body alight, enveloping your body in that warm fuzzy feeling you constantly seeked in her absence. If only she knew how open your heart had been towards her from the beginning, regardless of your anxious demeanour.

You could barely remember a memory from the past six months that didn’t include her somehow, it was as if she’d become entwined with your very being. Library visits, movie nights, exploring a new place in town, concerts, occasional parties, everything was done with you by her side. Contrary to before, you found yourself saying yes to things that you’re sure would have astonished past you. Of course, she never pushed you to do things entirely out of your comfort zone, much preferring cuddling at your side staying in if the two of you weren’t up to something particularly adventurous. Powder was your greatest weakness, it was increasingly hard to do anything but agree with her. And your massive crush on her certainly didn’t ease that impulse. You’d, of course, been aware of that from the moment you laid eyes on her. Many times, you’d fallen victim to the false belief that it didn’t exist anymore, then she simply lean into your personal space with her charming grin and the truth would come crashing down on you once again. You’d reached a point of acceptance now, convincing yourself you were content with how things were. Admittedly, though you’d definitely consider each other your best friends respectively, somewhere the line between friendship and the unknown had become fuddled, and you were currently residing in the limbo that was characterised by fleeting, uncertain tension.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

Powder lay sprawled out across your head, tossing something - likely one of your poor calico critters - in her hands, throwing it into the air and catching it repeatedly as you worked away at your desk. Summer break closely approaching unfortunately meant an influx of exams, and though Powder had already finished all of hers, you still had one left, the timing particularly cruel as the start of the holidays were only 2 days away, simmering on the horizon.

“When will you be done? I’m getting boooored over here with no attention,” she drawed the words out, haphazardly opening your bedside drawers.

“The same answer you got when you asked last, you big baby,” you replied, flipping through your textbook.

“Wrong answer!” Mimicking an incorrect buzzer sound. “C’mon, trinket, you’ve been studying for this one for weeks now. How about you give that brain of yours the rest it deserves?” She remarked, glancing at the back of your head as you exhaled softly. “And I mean that shit, you’ve been muttering study notes in your sleep.”

“I have absolutely not,” you turned around in your chair abruptly, wide-eyed. Powder simply raised an eyebrow in response, teasing grin on her face, and you turned back round, resting your forehead on your hands.

“Okay, you’re right,” you spoke, your voice muffled. “One more page.” Powder huffed at that, but counted it as a win ultimately.

“Also, I’ve witnessed you, with my own two eyes, do chemistry problems for fun, I don’t wanna hear it,” you teased back, straightening up in your seat.

“Touché, toots.” She closed the drawer, glancing around the bedroom she’d grown accustomed to curiously, before sitting up and staring at the back of your head again.

“Why haven’t you packed up? Leaving it to the last minute doesn’t sound very much like you,” she asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

You paused in your seat at that, pen frozen in its place. You didn’t dare turn around for fear of being read instantly, a power Powder had annoyingly acquired very early on into your friendship.

“I’m not going home,” you simply replied, picking up your pen again and hovering it over the page, though your train of thoughts had long dissipated.

Powder’s question as to why stopped in her throat, the memory of you mentioning your complicated family situation flashing quickly through her head. She simply nodded though your back was still turned, tinged with guilt at bringing up bad memories for you unintentionally.

“Well, there’s one big final party tomorrow, the night after your exam,” she spoke up again after a few beats of silence, the question hanging in the air.

You turned around to face her, your turn to raise an eyebrow at her lightheartedly.

“Way to end this year with a bang?” she practically pleaded, “I live all the way across the country, this’ll probably be the last thing we do before we come back for next year.”

The thought hadn’t even had the chance to cross your head before this, and hearing it now from her made something in your chest twist a little. The next few months without being attached to Powder at the hip were going to be surreal to say the least, a wave of the imminent loneliness crashing over you as you sat before her now. You managed a small smile, meeting her anticipating gaze. “Sure, Pow.”

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

To say parties were not your forte was an understatement, but the buzz of the shot you’d taken 10 minutes ago was starting to hit you now as you downed another. Powder had been swept into conversation with a few friends that greeted you cheerfully and roped you into their chat, very familiar with you at this point, but the lack of alcohol in your system was beginning to make you doubtful about being here in the first place. So you’d slithered away, making your way into the kitchen, taking in the surroundings, people packed into every corner, the bass of the music matching the beat of your heart, the bloodstream running through your veins.

“Sulking in a corner so early in? Can’t have that, toots, can we?” came Powder’s voice, a lilt in her tone as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing her face close to yours so you’d hear her over all the noise.

“Are you forgetting I sat an exam this very morning, and still made it here?” you remarked playfully.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Powder’s expression quickly turned serious, concern flickering over her face though your words had been lighthearted. She hadn’t had a chance to ask about it, getting ready before arriving had only consisted of excited chatter. “How did that go?”

You shook your head in response, “let’s not,” you whined lightly.

“My brave soldier. I’m proud of you,” Powder’s grin reached her eyes. You made a face at her words though the giggle escaping your throat betrayed you as you picked up a third shot. Powder’s eyes widened slightly.

“And tipsy already, without me???” she said mock-exasperatedly.

You shrugged slightly. She was exaggerating, she’d taken a couple when you’d first arrived, but the effect hit you a lot sooner than it did her.

“You were pretty busy over there,” you opted for, and raised the glass to your lips. Powder’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a second before swiftly taking the glass out of your grip, holding it to her own lips and tipping her head back slightly as she drained the glass. That fuzzy feeling intensified as you watched in awe, eyes unblinking as the heat of her shoulder wrapped around you suddenly became too much to bear.

“Dance?” She abruptly asked, a hint of a light smirk on her lips.

“Dance?” you quizzed back, incredulously, though that glint in her blue eyes told you she was serious, determined to get her way.

“Oh come on, you won’t refuse me a dance will you, when we’ll be apart for so long,” she replied, a hand draped against her forehead dramatically.

“It’s not like we’re going off to war, Powder,” you shook her head at her antics, smiling widely.

Powder snorted at your response, before wrapping her hand around yours, squeezing tightly as she led you through the packed crowds of people dancing wildly.

Settling in your own space, she danced freely, the movements coming to her naturally as just about everything else did, in your eyes at least. You followed her movements, though the combination of alcohol and the heat from the close bodies was slowing you down significantly. The bleary feeling increased as the two of you continued, your head fuzzy from the shots and the loud bass music blaring through the speakers, Powder moving dangerously nearer. Somewhere in the haze, some emotional switch was turned on in your body, your heart twisting and writhing in your chest at the mere thought of being apart from her for just a second. How on earth would you survive months without her? Your movements slowed down to almost a halt as you were caught in a trance, watching as her blue tresses slipped free from her half pinned hairstyle, cheeks flushed, the signature charming grin spreading across her face as she wrapped her arms across your shoulders, pulling you into her.

The sudden contact broke you out of your haze, nervously chewing at your lower lip as your gaze ran over Powder’s suddenly very fixated stare. Her eyes dropped down to your lips at your involuntary action, staying there for a beat before they looked up to meet yours, though you were mirroring her action, glancing at her rosy lips before darting up to meet her questioning eyes. She held your gaze for what seemed like a painstakingly long amount of time, wordlessly searching for an answer before you nodded desperately. You met her halfway as she closed the distance, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that seemed to speak a thousand unsaid words. You reciprocated immediately, any previous expectation of this moment crumbling away beyond comparison as she tightened her grip on the back of your head, pushing you even deeper into her embrace. When you eventually parted, her eyes immediately met yours, attempting to read you but you wrapped your arms around her hastily, deciding the vulnerability was too much, hiding your face in her shoulder. She held you tighter, the touch a middle ground between intense and tender, all thoughts of the implications and consequences melting away. The way she was holding you made such things feel so insignificant, as if nothing mattered outside of where you were right now.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

The coloured scenes of Fantastic Mr. Fox reflected off the white walls of Powder’s bedroom as you fixed your gaze on the screen of the TV, currently pressed into her side as her arm lay casually across your shoulders, fingers occasionally lightly tapping your arm, betraying her current nerves. It was the day after the party, and though what had occurred hadn’t been brought up by either of you, the weight of it lingered like a brewing thunderstorm after a heatwave. When you'd got the text from Powder asking you to swing by, you'd paced your bedroom several times, worried that the topic would be what had transpired the night before. It wasn't, she had just asked because it was the last night she'd be here, set to leave early the next morning. The air was still charged, you’d both somehow silently agreed to not acknowledge it, you personally attributing a lot of it to the fact that today was the last day before summer break. The bags and half packed suitcase strewn across the floor of the room was a constant reminder of what was looming on the horizon, but you tried your best to ignore the surge of emotion and focus on right now, the feeling of Powder’s arm around you. You felt sick at the thought that no matter how much you both pretended nothing happened, or that it was a drunken, spontaneous action not holding any meaning, that blurry line of your connection had spiralled out of control, and that nothing would ever be quite the same.

The sound of Powder calling your name broke you out of your brain spiral, focusing your attention back on to the movie playing. You hummed in response, assuming it was another observational comment on the movie.

“Come with me.” You whipped your head away from the screen and turned to Powder, finding her already staring at you, eyes wide with her objective. “Come home with me,” she repeated when you stared in silence.

“Pow, what do you mean? I can’t do-”

“I’ve already talked about it to my family. I don't want you to be here alone for the rest of the holidays,” she quickly cut you off, rambling.

“You don’t need to pity me, and I don’t want to be a burden,” you replied, heart in your throat.

Powder shook her head, eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re not a burden,” she replied firmly, “and it’s not pitying. I want you to come home with me.”

The words caught in your throat at her response, the surge of sentiment washing over you at her sheer generosity. “Thank you, Powder. I appreciate this, so much,” you settled, smiling softly though anxiously hoping at the same time she understood how genuine your thankfulness to her was.

Powder breathed out as if in relief, before shooting you a small smile. “I’m so glad.” She paused, laughing at something in her head. “I am gonna have to warn you about my sister though…”

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

The drive back to Powder’s hometown had been pleasant, though long. The music from the stereo played quietly throughout, sometimes you’d pass conversation back and forth but for the most part you watched your surroundings or slept, absolutely exhausted from having stayed up the entire night before, hurriedly packing your things and making rearrangements.

“It’s like you’re moving in,” Powder had remarked teasingly when she saw the amount of stuff you’d packed.

“It’s called being prepared, we don’t all live as spontaneously as you,” you’d retorted back lightheartedly, while she began loading the bags into the car, insisting she could do it all by herself.

The nerves that had been building along the journey melted away the moment you’d stepped into the home. Vander, Powder’s adoptive dad, had hugged her immediately upon sight as she yelped playfully, her coat not even fully removed. “You’ve gotten taller since I’ve seen you kid,” he jested when he stepped back.

“It’s always the same joke with you every time, old man,” she’d quipped back, biting back the laugh as her gaze shifted to you at the side watching the interaction fondly. A nervous expression flashed across her face briefly before she took the chance to introduce you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” you finally spoke up, smiling. Vander paused for a second before copying the same action from before, hugging you too.

“Nice to meet you too, kid.” He tapped your shoulder, smiling. “Heard a lot about ya.”

You finally felt at peace, all worrying thoughts of somehow making a bad impression vanishing the longer you conversed with Vander and Silco, who had joined the three of you for dinner in honour of Powder’s return for the summer break. The best part was being able to watch Powder so at home with them, alternating between serious conversation and jesting. She was so loved and content, the warmth spreading and seeping into your bones, that fuzzy feeling making you feel fulfilled again.

Once the post-dinner spectacles were over and the exhaustion began to take over, Powder had showed you up to the bedroom you would become familiar with over the break. You were currently going over the funniest moments of the evening, stifling your giggles in fear of waking anyone up as you entered the room.

“Well, it is a pretty ridiculous story after all,” you laughed as Powder flopped onto the bed, tossing a monkey plushie off the side as she patted the space beside her, beckoning you. You were referring to Silco’s reaction when you were recalling the story of how you’d met and befriended each other, Vander shaking with laughter despite seemingly having heard the story already.

“I think it’s actually more ridiculous how quickly you let it go, actually,” she retaliated.

“I wasn’t going to,” you replied, playfully punching her shoulder, “I just got…distracted.”

“Distracted, huh?” she hummed as she leaned in closer to you, smirking, “so you’ll just let anyone hit you over the head with a torch as long as they have a pretty face?”

“Only one,” you shot back, hoping she couldn’t hear how wildly your heart was beating underneath your confidence.

Powder smiled at your unexpected response, watching as you broke the eye contact, choosing to sweep your eyes across the decorations lining her room. “I thought I’d screwed it up, you know, I’d seen you around a few times before that.” You looked back at her, eyebrows furrowed together as you were about to question what she’d meant, but she shifted on the bed, moving to lay under the duvet cover.

“I’m sorry about this room,” she spoke up, suddenly feeling insecure about her younger self’s taste.

“Don’t, I love it,” you breathed out, smiling fondly as you gazed at all the sheer amount of decorations and trinkets that lined almost every surface of her room, paper stars dangling from the ceiling, imagining teen Powder adorning the room with them.

She smiled tiredly, lifting the duvet cover so you could join her. “Thank you so much for this again, Powder, you didn’t have to do this,” you said, eyes slowly losing the fight to stay open as you settled under the covers next to her, meeting her gaze.

“How many times, toots, I wanted to. Besides, I don’t think I would have survived break without you anyway,” she joked, though her grin was genuine. “I thought today might be a lot for you, so I tried to break it up a little,” she huffed out a laugh, though you picked up on her nerves as you listened attentively. “Vi and her girlfriend Cait invited us out tomorrow, though only if you’re okay with that,” she looked to you, gaze shifting from where she’d been fidgeting with her fingers.

“Powder,” you lay your hand lightly above her fingers, stilling the movement, “I love your family. Of course I’m okay with that.”

She moved her hand so her fingers were interlaced with yours, squeezing them together. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your pulse was still racing when you laid down later to finally sleep, back faced to Powder’s back in your usual sleeping position. You squeezed your eyes shut as if to will yourself to calm down and actually sleep ahead of tomorrow, Powder on the other side of the bed blissfully unaware of the effect she had on you.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

“And I think you’re going to really get along with Cait,” Powder was filling you in on details as you walked into the restaurant. You’d of course heard plenty of stories from Powder before, so none of this was new, but it was endearing how she rambled on in attempts to alleviate any anxious feelings. You simply nodded with a smile in response, watching as her eyes darted around the room, finally landing on the table where they had already taken a seat, waving briefly before turning to you. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you affirmed, welcoming the feeling of her hand wrapping around yours as you strolled towards the table. You watched as Powder greeted the two and vice versa, before their gazes shifted to you inquisitively. You introduced yourself, shaking your hand over the table as you and Powder took your seats across them. You passed conversation as you waited, already deciding you really liked them as the waiter made their way to the table.

“Well, it is certainly nice finally meeting the girlfriend, we’ve been convinced Powder was like, gatekeeping you from everybody or something,” Vi snorted as she raised her glass slightly.

Cait’s head whipped to the side to shoot Vi a sharp look as Powder melted into a mess beside you, though you hadn't noticed a single thing, your hearing having left you after the word ‘girlfriend’. You tried your best to compose yourself, you’d been midway through a sip of your drink when Vi had unexpectedly piped up, the choking sound that had left your mouth particularly undignified - and you were now miserably aware of the waiter to the side cluelessly asking you if you were ready to order. Powder glanced at you, then pointed at two random things on the menu in despair, words similarly failing her.

Vi watched the scene in confusion, eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment as Cait took over the ordering before turning back to you with an entertained grin. The look on Vi's face was so similar to Powder’s, it took everything in you to hold back from bursting into laughter at the comparison.

“In other words, we’re both very glad to meet you. Any friend of Powder’s is a friend of yours,” she spoke genuinely.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve heard so much about you both,” you smiled back.

“All good things, I hope!” Vi finally chimed in. You simply shrugged playfully in response, though you swore you heard Powder mutter something about ‘not after this’ under her breath.

You waited for a pause in the conversation before leaning closer to Powder, letting her know you were just going to the bathroom quickly. She nodded, getting up so you could make your way out. She gripped your wrist just as you were about to leave, making you turn back to look at her questioningly.

“Please, don’t leave me with them for too long,” she whispered desperately. You snickered lightly in response, promising you wouldn’t before leaving.

“For their sake,” she added under her breath as she sat back in her seat, shooting a scowl at Vi across the table.

“What the fuck was that about before??” Vi blurted out, gaze alternating between Cait and Powder confusedly.

“She hasn’t asked that question yet,” Caitlyn responded, amused as she watched Powder groan frustratedly into her hands.

“WHAT? Are you kidding? How??” Vi shot out exasperatedly.

“They haven’t talked about it yet,” Caitlyn replied, a giggle escaping her lips as the sheer ridiculousness of the conversation.

“Yes, we don’t all move as fast as you guys,” Powder snarked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Okay, that’s nonsense - you said you were going to ask for her number before you ended up hitting her eye,” Caitlyn teased in retaliation.

“I told you that in confidence!”

“You told us you both already kissed too!”

“Hold on, hold on, there’s way too much too much to unpack here,” Vi clutched at her head, “and why do you know way more than me about this?” She turned to Caitlyn quizzically.

“Right, stalker,” Powder narrowed her eyes playfully.

“I prefer observant,” she shrugged, before pointing a finger at Powder, “besides, you told me all this over call plenty of times.”

“You just had to open your mouth, sis,” Powder huffed out, though there was no bite in her voice as she shot Vi her 100th glare.

“Put it this way, Pow, I just made things a whole lot easier for you,” Vi smirked as Powder looked around the restaurant, eyes landing on you as you emerged and began to walk back to the table.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

“Are you kidding?? That’s so many plans, I’m barely going to have you to myself at this point,” Powder grumbled playfully, laying her head on your shoulder as you both sat propped up against her pillows. Caitlyn and Vi had made an array of plans to hang out over the summer, you’d hit it off very successfully with them and the thought of winning the approval of Powder’s loved ones warmed your chest as you chuckled at her protest.

“You’re going to be there for all of them, Pow,” you rolled your eyes as you shook your head.

“This was their plan all along, trust me,” Powder sighed though she was smiling too as her gaze fixated on your face. She was similarly delighted at how well you’d all got along, her heart warming at the thought. You continued your idle chatter, both waiting for the sleepiness to wash over you.

“And Vi totally cheated in that last round - there’s no way she got a strike all of a sudden,” Powder snickered, still salty over the two of you losing to Cait and Vi in your impromptu bowling game.

“Sure, Pow,” you giggled, “we’ll get ‘em next time,” you said, stifling a small yawn. Powder’s eyes flickered at the action, pulling your arm to lay down properly.

“That’s enough, toots, time to sleep!”

“I’m not tired, I wanted to talk more,” you whined sleepily, though you let her tug you down next to her.

“As much as I want to, we have all the time to do that. You need to sleep right now, I have more stuff planned for us tomorrow and I don’t want you to be grumpy for it,” she smiled amusedly as she faced you, lying down. You pouted mockingly in response, her simply tapping your cheek lightly before turning around. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, giving in as you turned around too. The events of the evening ran back through your head as you closed your eyes. Your mind drifted off to the fiasco before you left the table, her memory lighting up the bulb in your head as you’d almost completely forgotten it. You stifled a giggle, reminiscing as you heard Powder’s soft breathing from behind you.

“Girlfriend, huh?” you spoke quietly into the silence, unable to hold yourself back. You’d said it teasingly, not expecting a response - and it didn’t look like you were going to get one, taking the silence as an indication that the girl beside you had already fallen asleep. You froze as the sheets ruffled as Powder sat up in the bed, looking down at you wordlessly. You mimicked her movement, sitting up next to her as you turned to face her. You were expecting a smirk, her usual confident steady gaze, anything but the vulnerable, anxious look painting her face as she fought herself to keep eye contact with you.

“I was going to ask you soon, I swear, I just didn’t know if you felt the same, but then we kissed but we didn’t talk about it and-” she rambled breathlessly, words spewing out uncontrollably. Your hand placed on her cheek stopped her train of thoughts briefly, gaze dropping from your hand back to your eyes. Your face flushed furiously, the beat of your heart threatening to spin out of your chest altogether as you nodded slightly.

“I wanted to kiss you long before that, I just wasn’t sure…” she carried on, words stumbling out now.

“Powder,” you stopped her going on another anxious rant, her eyes fixated on you as you spoke, “I’ve felt the same since the first time we met,” you confessed softly.

“I’ve been plotting on you since I first laid eyes on you,” Powder managed out, grinning back at you. Her gaze flitted between your lips and your eyes as you leaned in closer to her apprehensively.

“Are you going to stop talking and kiss me already?” you laughed, teasing.

Powder didn’t waste a second before closing the remaining distance between you, her soft lips working against yours as if they’d been made for this very purpose, smiling into the kiss as you tugged her closer by the hand still cupping her face. She snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against her as she deepened the kiss. The first time had been great, but God if this didn’t feel a thousand times better, unrestricted, the uncertainty and intolerable tension vanquished - and both of your feelings reciprocated. It set your very insides alight as you pulled back for air, briefly, before you were pulled back in, Powder pressing kiss after kiss to your lips as if to make up for lost time. It was much later in the night when you lay down to finally sleep, Powder’s heart steadily beating pressed to your back as her arms held you tight, close to her. She pressed a sleepy final kiss to the crown of your head before finally closing her eyes, content enough to stay like this forever with you in her hold. As you were both finally drifting off, she suddenly opened her eyes, as if remembering something urgent.

“I didn’t even ask the question!”

You snorted, turning around in her arms to press a kiss to her cheek. “Yes, I will be your girlfriend, you absolute dork.”

✧.*ೃ⁀➷

a/n: first req done !! hopefully met your expectations though this was definitely supposed to be a drabble i just got entirely carried away <3 also wrote this when i have two exams to be studying for (guess my degree!) calico critters are actually called sylvanian families in europe, but i figured barely anyone would know what i was talking abt 😭 anyways enjoy, pls let me know ur thoughts and feel free to send more requests ♡

(gifs by cafekitsune)

#powder x reader #powder x fem!reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x reader #au powder #powder x you #powder x female reader #jinx arcane #powder arcane #arcane x reader #jinxsequin

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