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nicromancytarot · 1 year ago

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ALL ABOUT YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE 18+ themes, lots of information!!

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

(This took me 3 days lmao, please like, follow and reblog)

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you need to know about your future spouse, pick a pile to find out!!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1 (TW sexual abuse)

“I need to take time for myself” “let’s take this to the next level” “i don’t want anyone else”

Their appearance

I’m seeing lighter hair, light brown to a blonde-white, I’m seeing they may have muscles, or just a nicely toned body. It also looks like their back may be very prominent to their appearance, they may work out extra to achieve really nice back muscles. They could honestly have a large top half and skinny bottom half (Miguel O’Hara for example.) I’m seeing someone quite tall, they may have an interesting shaped head, like not in a bad way, it might just appear more prominently on them. For a guy, long third leg.. (They allowed me to say this one.) Possible big ears, or maybe even wears earrings or something to highlight them. The right side of their face is the best for them lmao, they might pose showing their right side for pictures.

About them

They‘ve have been through some hardships in their life, they’ve been fucked over pretty bad in the past, and while they don’t like to dwell on it, I wanted to bring it up. It’s seeming like they may have gone through sexual assault, I’m seeing that they used to appear quite sexualised in the past, something they did themself, however, someone close to them felt valid enough to abuse their power and cause harm to your partner through their self-expression. This hurt your partner a lot, they’re still healing, I’m heading “please take your time with me” when it comes to sex, they have some extreme vulnerability about it, they need you to understand that; they’re begging me not to sexualise them, and they’re asking you nicely to do the same, give them the respect that someone thought was ok to steal from them.

Due to this mass betrayal, they appear very closed off to new love, they have a lot of people that want them, and fawn over them, but this situation has completely made them turn a blind eye to those who see them. It will take you a while to crack this person open, however once you do, it will be more than worth it.

They will be very slow to start this connection with you, but once they are sure that you can be trusted, and they feel safe around you, they will set up camp by your side, and they don’t plan on leaving.

Their career

They’re very financially successful, but I see that this took them a while, I think they began building up financial abundance due to wanting their family to be there for them, and take notice in their achievements.

In work I think they may be underestimated, appearing as the lioness, I can only be reminded of the over glamorisation of lions, and the societal irrelevancy of lionesses, even though they do more for the lion population than the lion, as a collective do for themselves. Unfortunately this being said, I see they are idolised for their body, rather than their talents (I’m getting Sidney Sweeney, and Vinnie Hacker for this, both talented people, who are only seen as pieces of meat, or some type of chew toy.) Your person is really disrespected and it’s making me so mad, man. They’re trying their hardest to break out of the stereotype, however I feel as though there are colleges of theirs that constantly sexualise them, making them feel very uncomfortable. Again, I’m getting the same message as before, they are yearning for someone to treat them like a human being, and not just a vessel of sex organs.

Their family

Mentioned prior, they do not have the best relationship with their family, I think there’s some deep-rooted and ínstense trauma from possible childhood, I see they were the type of child to get all perfect grades to try and impress, and make their parents proud, however I don’t think it worked. Their parents seem very self focused and absorbed in their own life, and business.

They assumed that becoming even more successful, making a name for themself, earning masses of money would make their family proud, but it never worked.

They may have cut their family out of their life, or they are considering it. If they don’t decide to cut their family off, it most likely comes from hope and fear, they are scared that their family won’t notice all their biggest achievements if they cut them out, and they hope that eventually they will be able to achieve something big enough so their family is proud of them. They blame themself a lot for “not being enough” and not making them proud.

How they are in bed

I was not able to get much for this, but I do see that they need to really be able to trust you fully before getting into bed with you, they need a lot of time and reassurance, they really need you to understand their fears. The first time you guys have sex, you may unintentionally bring up some hidden wounds, they’re telling me to tell you not to worry, they’ll look into your eyes and it’ll be gone. They may need eye contact the first time, they need that constant reminder that it’s you, and that you won’t hurt them.

They gave me a few explicit messages, so for that I got

“Cum on your face”

“Make a sex tape” (I feel like they would burn this onto a hard drive and keep it in a place only they know about, only showing you if you asked them to.)

“Food play”

When I got these messages, I had a fan on so I needed to put the papers under something so they didn’t fly away, I unknowingly put them under the chariot card, so I’m really getting again that you will need to work for this. The chariot was also the only sexual illustration I got.

Another thing is that they don’t want you telling your friends about your guys sex lives, they don’t want more people to sexualise them.

They also may finish very fast the first time, this could be out of sensation since I don’t think they would’ve had sex for a very long time by the time you guys meet and start dating.

Their love language

Acts of service, they enjoy doing things for the people that they care about, unfortunately it seems this has stemmed from their neglecting childhood, they feel as though they must do something for someone to feel loved. They do not quite understand that love is not a give to receive, you may have to be the one to teach them this. Your future spouse only believe people will love them if they do something for that person in return.

Quality time, they like to be with the people they care about, i’m seeing two people sat in silence on some arm chairs, one person is resting their head on their arm while scrolling aimlessly on their phone, meanwhile the other is reading a book, holding it with one hand as the other plays with the hand belonging to their counterpart, their fingers tracing the skin of their lover’s hand gently, fingers only just intertwining.

Their shadows

Your future spouse does not see their own self worth, they do not value themself as a person, or even a creator, whatever they do in life, they are a very creative and diverse person, yet they don’t feel that way. It’s as if they suffer from imposter syndrome, they never feel worthy of their achievements, because no one ever made them feel as though their success mattered.

They can be very closed off with their feelings, they become resentful towards their emotions and just wish they could rip the feelings from their body. They may say things they don’t mean in the moment, mostly because they don’t feel worthy of your love, but as soon as they realise what they have done, they will bring you to their chest and hug you tightly.

This reaction will never escalate further than a shout of anger.

I sense they might refuse therapy, you may have a lot of arguments about this, they try to tell themself that they do not need therapy, but this is mainly because they fear they will be laughed at, for coming to this person with trauma that even they struggle to understand, even after having gone through it. I would encourage you to try your best to get them to go to therapy, maybe even both of you together so you can get to know each other on a more intimate level.

Please be gentle with them my pile 1, they are truly a blessing of a soul.

PILE 2

“I’m not ready” “you’re too good for me” “let’s take this to the next level” (you may have been attracted to pile 1, if so maybe go check it out.)

Their appearance

Lighter hair, for a select few of you, it’s black. I think they might have longer hair, and like to wear it up, or they enjoy covering their head with a hat or other accessories. I’m getting medium height, maybe even shorter than you, or possibly only a little taller than you. I think they enjoy dressing more provocative, perhaps having shirt buttons undone, or just not wearing a shirt at all, they really like their body, and they know they have a good one. If they have abs, I would say they are there but quite faint, not toned, just enough to show. Their hair could be curly, or it’s just the first thing you notice when you meet them. I’m getting pirate vibes, they might dress up more like a pirate honestly, buttoned down blouses, a bandana on their head, their hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. The area of their nose, lips, philtrum, and chin is very prominent, a main focal point on their face. Their eyes make them look tired and drunk, the classic sleepy eyes. They may wear a lot of jewellery, specifically gold. Their skin seems more into the tanner tones for the dark haired individuals, they may be part of the latino/a community. For the people with lighter hair, I see they could be based around Europe.

About them

I hate fuelling delusions like this, but multiple cards are pointing to this person being an ex, it seems like they had your heart at one point and came back for more, after having messed up the first time. They do seem very remorseful for their previous mistakes, they want you to know that they were naive and selfish, they didn’t know how to treasure something as important, and valuable as your love, however they want you to know that they are ready now. I see they could have cheated on you in the past, left you for another person, or just been toxic with you, and just treated you badly. Please take in mind that I do not want you to get back with any super shitty ex, you have free will so don’t do that, however I do think this person has changed for the better. With the chariot, and hanged man, I’m seeing they worked on themself to be able to be good for you, it may have taken them a few years.

For those of you who’s future spouse is not an ex, I would say that the first time you guys met, there was a sense of competition and it turned you completely off from them, or they just came across rude, and arrogant while trying to impress you, and you just weren’t feeling it. They’re coming back around to show you how serious they actually are about making this relationship with you work. They will need some time, one sided enemies to lovers lmao.

Their career

I feel as though they have a good amount of material wealth, they seem to have everything they could desire, they could be a little bit of a workaholic, which possibly can cause some drama between you, you will need to remind them of how important spending time together is, they will listen, they are always willing to compromise with you.

Their job is one filled with a lot of competition, I’m honestly getting technology, they could work with technology, they could be under a tech company position, or maybe they even work from home doing their own thing on their computer.

They can appear secretive when it comes to their job, they’re not trying to keep it a secret, or hidden from you, they simply just don’t really think to talk about it that much. Lowkey, they could be a moderator for some type of famous streamer, (lmao??) or they could work in a position where they help people with managing publicity, like an agent or something.

This job does seem interesting, but it does come across a little like they do it more so for the money, than for an actual enjoyment that they find. Some of them do enjoy their job, but I don’t think they would stick with it, if it didn’t offer them the money and exposure that it does.

Their family

I honestly feel like it was their family’s influence that got them to start working on themself, I get the sense that their mother was possibly the one to force them into therapy, she may have even sat through his first session lol.

I think he’s mainly closest to the woman in his family, I’m getting a close friendship with their 1-2 sisters, possibly older, rather than younger. Im getting that they see them a little puppy that needs training, if you guys get into an argument, and they go to their sisters, the oldest one would be quick to correct your future spouse on their mistakes, and convince them to talk to you again and apologise for whatever they did.

Their family love you, if it’s a second chance scenario, they are so happy that you guys get another chance at loving each other, they truly want you to stay part of their family.

I’m seeing a young girl, possibly around the age of 5-6, you will be very close to her, I’m feeling it’s a niece or cousin, who is constantly around when you visit the rest of the family.

How they are in bed

They honestly appear quite vanilla, all bark no bite to be honest, they will say the flirtiest things to you, and they appear quite sexual, but once you get into the bedroom, they become all shy and reserved, there is a potential for you to bring them out of their shell however.

I’m seeing that sex for them is more-so about their own pleasure, they can seem a bit selfish during sex because of this, they may also see it as a way to compete with others, I’m hearing “I have them in a way that no one else ever will,” they may deal with a little bit of jealousy when it comes to your relationship, they are you as a very desired person, so they worry that someone will steal you away from them, being intimate with you is like proof to them that you are there’s and no one else could have you in such a compromising position.

They may finish really fast, I’m seeing someone who is struggling to keep their attraction in, the way your eyes penetrate into theirs will have them a stuttering mess, unexpectedly pushing them to their climax, though I feel like you will be nowhere near your own. You may need to help them with how to pleasure you, so you also reach your destination!

They could be a virgin, they don’t seem very experienced, they may have even waited for marriage, so this could be the night of your wedding.

They’re on top, it makes them feel more masculine and in charge of the situation, I also think they need to be able to pick their own pace to make sure they don’t overwhelm themself the first time.

They will be bursting with anticipation every time you initiate something with them.

They may have a desire to watch you touch yourself, they know about the important places of pleasure for people of your gender, however they don’t know exactly how to treat those places, so they may ask you to touch yourself to show them, this could lead to an intense session of mutual masterbation, for the select few of you, this will come before your wedding, they’ll ask you about how they should pleasure you on your wedding night, and you will show them, they will get into the mood as well and join you in the bed, this will almost make them cave in and take you there and then.

“Pull my hair”

“You make me so hard/wet”

“Let me taste”

Their open to whatever you’re into, just give them time to adjust to the new sensations of sex first, before you spring any random kinks onto them.

Their love language

Physical touch, they enjoy being around you and putting their hands on you at any chance they get, they like to hold your hand, to wrap their arms around your waist, they just like how you feel under their touch, if they feel like they’re working too much, they will invite you to sit with them, possibly on their lap so they can have you with them.

They like their bare skin to touch yours, I don’t think they sleep with much on, maybe shirtless with a pair of underwear, they will press their front of your back, making sure their bare chest hits your bare back, and back of shoulders.

Gift giving, they like to buy you things, I think it’s in a way of trying to make up for how they treated you in the past, they use their money to prove to you how serious they are about you and their relationship with you, they’re very possessive of their material wealth, so sharing it with you is something massive, and unexpected. If you see something in the store window, they’ll notice you even as much as glanced at it, and they will make sure it belongs to you in no time.

Their shadows

Their can appear a little selfish at times, I think they’ve had to protect and defend themself all their life, so now they feel as though shutting people out and not letting them in is the best answer to cure and keep away any upcoming insecurities.

Your future spouse needs to lose things to understand how much they actually mean to them, they don’t appreciate things enough until it’s taking away from them, luckily for them, they tend to work hard enough to manage to get this back, ensuring that it will never be taken away again.

Their downplay their transformations, they don’t exaggerate, but honestly the complete opposite, they feel as though their past and their future and two completely different identities, they need constant reminders that their success is still their success, no matter how long ago it was.

PILE 3

“I don’t want anyone else” “do you feel the same?” “you’re the only one I want in my life” (again, you could’ve also been attracted to pile 1, I wouldn’t recommend going back up however, I think it may have been the warning that caught your eye rather than the pile itself!)

Their appearance

I’m getting chestnut brown, to black hair, for a woman, it’s casts down her back, quite long. For a man, It’s around medium length, maybe just above their shoulders. Their back is very prominent in this pile, I feel like they have nicely defined back muscles, however I do not think they are an incredibly muscular person. They could honestly dress more punk/emo, wearing black leather jackets which are decorated, and bedazzled with silver spikes, I do see a possibility for a more alternative style for men, feminine outifts for women, types of styles that accentuates their hips and bust.

They might like going outside a lot, they’d be the type to suggest a camping trip, so they wear clothes that are suitable, and durable for being outside for extended periods of time. Big black boots is another thing I’m getting, their hair could also be spiked up for a select few of you. (I’m honestly picking up Johnnie Gilbert similarities for this pile, maybe Johnnie’s future wife is watching, and they just don’t know, that’s crazy.)

About them

They know better than to overwork themself, they may be the type that needs to mentally recharge after being around people for too long, they also seem to take in a lot of energy when around people, they’re like a little portable charger, however this does mean that they get burnt out very quickly. Luckily, they are not one to ignore the signals of their body and mind, so if they need to rest and be alone for a little, they will do that, this can however make them appear a tad aloof.

I don’t think they’re the best at expressing their emotions, they keep them hidden for a reason, I believe out of fear of judgment, or getting hurt again. I’m seeing someone who may have been cheated on by an ex partner, I don’t imagine they got closure on whatever this situation was, if it wasn’t cheating, it was some type of intense betrayal. They may appear a bit condescending at times, this is their way of trying to push you away before you find out about their feelings, they weirdly think you will leave them or condemn them for showing any natural, human emotion.

Their hardworking in all areas of their life, mainly self improvement, they want to become the best version of themself, so their partner can be comfortable with them. I do see that they will have a dramatic change of circumstance, or just who they are as a person, around the time that they meet you, which would be done for you, or for some of you, they will improve themself right before you guys meet, this change in their life will bring you to them.

Their career

They have a job where their workload and work time is flexible, they have the ability to not work one day, and pick up the work the next day if they so please. This is good because it means they will be making sure they always have time for you, to make you feel appreciated.

Their job is focused around nurturing responsibility, they are a leader of their area, but not a leader overall, they may have some type of job where they have to be a role model for people of a younger age, mild fame or influencing is showing strongly (bro which one of you are Johnnie’s wife, this is getting too specific.)

The job brings in a lot of material abundance, I don’t see they have to worry about too much, other than understanding that their work can be overwhelming, and that they need to pace themself, allowing themself to take breaks is super important with this pile.

It’s a job that offers them long term stability, and more money with the higher their position gets, if this person is mildly famous, or some type of influencer, the more fame and fans they gain, the more money they will be raking in, however they do need to remember where their loyalties lie, and always make sure to appreciate the fandom that gave them what they have now.

Their family

Their family are so different from them lmao, like polar opposites, I’m seeing the sweetest mother who always makes baked goods, sometimes they can appear a little interesting, but taste good nonetheless. Their father calls them by a nickname which your future spouse hates, their father is really sweet, I’m getting someone a little more laidback, who would rub your partners hair to mess it up for absolutely no reason.

You will feel very welcome into this family, they do not discriminate since their son/daughter/child has gone through some intense stuff in their life, and they are just thankful that you are able to bring them security, and safety, your person could’ve struggled badly with mental health, and it may have worried their family, so their parents are super happy that you’re able to keep them happy. However, please remember that someone’s mental health is not your responsibility solely.

How they are in bed

I don’t think they would’ve had sex for a while before you guys got together, I think they may have done some type of sexual cleanse, they were possibly a fuck boy/girl in the past, so they quit it to help themself improve and be the best version of themself.

They may need a little while to really get ready to be intimate with you, it might come as a conversation that the two of you share, explaining that you would like to have sex with them, and them setting a date for it so nothing can go wrong. I see them prepping by shaving their entire body lmao, they’re going all out, if it’s a man, they’re going to get so many cuts in all the wrong places, and they will definitely complain about it to you. They do expect you to be as prepared as they are, so get yourself ready, find yourself a nice, new perfume and get to it.

I do not think they will have sex with you outside of the relationship, I feel as though they have so many sexual requests from people, it makes them feel only valuable for their body, they don’t want to be seen as just a warm body that you get to lay under, the first time you are intimate with them. You have to prove yourself before sex, and even then, it may take a while. I’m getting around eight to ten months after dating, they really don’t want to be fooled and used for their body, especially after their sexual cleanse.

They like to be on top, they may honestly end up sweating and shivering at the end of it, like that one scene from Titanic when Jack is shaking in the carriage while laying on top of Rose with a blanket.

The sex will get progressively more rough and interesting over time, but the first time is just pure love making.

“Look into my eyes”

“Fuck you silly”

“Tie you up”

I’m getting that they will need aftercare more than you will, while both of you will be giving it to each other, they are a lot more in need of it, I feel like you would be fine to just go into the kitchen and make yourself something to eat, meanwhile they desire to be in your arms for the next couple of hours.

Their love language

Physical touch, they need to be at least holding your hand at all times, they would lowkey like to wear a lipstick stain you created on their cheek or jaw, they like people to know that you are theirs, and they are yours. They may also really like when you give them hickeys, they will absolutely allow those to be on show for everyone to see, they are too proud to hide them. They like to hold your stomach? Perhaps it’s when you sleep, they like to rest their hand on your stomach, or perhaps they want to get you pregnant, they may be very serious about having kids sometime in the future.

Words of affirmation, they really appreciate when you tell them how good they look, or how the outfit they’re wearing is amazing on their body. They specifically enjoy your compliments, you have a way with explaining things, that makes it seem so much more authentic and honest, they trust your judgment a lot. I do see they have a tendency to feel very insecure, and although so many people tell them how beautiful they are, your future spouse struggles to believe them, thinking it’s some kind of sick joke, but they know you would never joke or make fun of them about that. You’ll be very surprised to find out about their insecurities, you may even think they’re playing with you the first time they mention it, this could make them feel invalidated, so be careful how you tackle this!

Their shadows

They constantly ignore their problems, they have an “out of sight, out of mind” way of thinking, which is just barbaric because it means they don’t sort through their issues and instead push them out of the way. You may need to help them with healing from some past trauma, and realising that they are allowed to feel hurt and anger from those past situations, as they were not at all ideal.

Your future spouse is quick to push people away when they feel as though they’ve said too much, and opened up more than they desired to, due to this, there may be a few times when you feel helpless, and they seem helpless, this is something you can work through together.

They get very defensive, very quickly, if you say something that unintentionally triggers them, they will shut off, going into some type of hermit mode until they feel ready to talk about whatever it is that bothered them.

#pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards

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a-pute11as · 7 months ago

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stubborn pt 2

summary - part 2 of stubborn, part 1 can be found here

warnings - 18+ MDNI smut, more stalker texts, angst, very possessive alexia, but a cute happy ending

words - 3247

i was sitting on the sofa inbetween cata’s legs with her arms wrapped around me, tears staining my face with a heavy chest. the blinds were down and the only light was coming from the salt lamp in the corner of the room and the tv that was being used as background noise. i could feel my phone buzzing, but that was the least of my focus right now.

“none of this is your fault, she used you” cata said, running her hand up and down my arms.

“i let it happen, i was upset about the incident, mapi and i went to a bar and she was there” i sniffled, “it was just meant to be a one time thing but she kept texting and I felt bad and it kept going from there”.

“at least you found out now rather than a couple months later” cata said, doing her best to soothe me.

“i’m going to sound like a terrible person but -“ i hesitated before remembering that cata wasn’t in a place to judge me, “i just needed a distraction from the whole incident” i confessed.

“i know how much that affected you, i think we could all see the way it hurt you” she agreed, her hands moving to run through my hair.

cata had been someone i instantly clicked with after moving to barcelona, quickly becoming my best friend. she helped me build all the furniture in the flat, helped with my spanish lessons and held me when i cried over a women who i thought i had a chance with. clearly not. cata did know all the techniques to help me open up and relax though, which i was very grateful for.

“did you ever talk to ale about why she did what she did?” i asked, sinking into her chest as i relaxed somewhat.

“nena, you’re so oblivious, she’s been into you for ages, she was just too scared about how that would effect your friendship” she explained, but that still didn’t answer my question.

“you know i won’t ever believe that until she’s the one saying it, but did you talk to her?” i asked again, pressing for an answer.

“honestly, no i haven’t” she replied, i instantly huffed, “but i did overhear her tell jenni that she wanted to make it right” she added.

as she finished speaking my phone buzzed again, prompting me to pick it up.

10m ago - unknown number : i don’t think you know how angry i am about what she did to you

she took advantage of what’s mine

i hate seeing my pretty girl hurt

now - unknown number : i need to know you’re okay

i’m coming over

my heart rate sped up, the texts reminded me of alexia. her words rang through my head, they matched the exact phrasing of the texts i had been sent earlier. surely it couldn’t be her?

and who the fuck was about to turn up at my apartment?

“everything okay?” cata said, peering over my shoulder, “wait who is that?” she asked, her voice filled with a sense of worry.

i hesitated to answer her, not really knowing the right answer myself “um, i don’t know” i whispered.

“you don’t know?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

i was quick to turn myself around to face her before i started my explanation on the possibility of who it was, until i was stopped by a knock on the door. my eyebrows furrowed at cata as i internally questioned how that happened so fast, which she shrugged in response. i motioned for her to open it, just in case my stalker had showed up and it ended up being creepy old man that was here to kill me and not the women i’d be pining over.

“alexia, uh what a surprise to see you here” cata said, as her eyes flickering between alexia standing at door and me still sat on the sofa.

my eyes instantly widened.

“can i come in?” she asked.

“I don’t think that’s up to me” cata said, awkwardly using her body to block alexia’s view of me.

“cata” she sighed, “can you just ask her”.

cata turned to me in hopes of an answer, causing me to nod in response. with that she moved out of the way to allow alexia to come in.

“well I’ll wait in my car” cata said, before picking up her stuff and heading out of my apartment to give us some space.

“hola” she said, pulling her same awkward stance from earlier, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as her eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to focus on.

“if we are going to speak about this could you at least sit down?” i asked, shuffling myself further along the sofa so she had somewhere to sit.

she sat down but still held an awkward demeanour, sitting herself just on the edge of the sofa, finding absolutely no comfort in the place we once would spend hours wrapped up with each other.

“please can you just give me a single reason why this all happen, one day we were spending every free second with each other and the next it’s like i don’t exist” i explained, my voice shaking slightly from the mix of emotions being felt throughout my body.

“i thought it’d be awkward” she replied, very bluntly, her voice staying monotone.

i sighed, “alexia, you’ve seen every part of me, why would a drunk kiss make it awkward, if you regretted it then i would’ve just ignored the fact it happened, but -“ she quickly cut me off.

“that’s why, i didn’t want it to be just a drunk kiss, i didn’t want you to see it as a mistake, i kissed you because i’ve wanted to do it for a long time, do you know how painful it was sitting here with you for hours and not being able to do exactly what i wanted to do”

“okay but -“ she cut me off again.

“no y/n, you had your go to speak, let me talk” i nodded, she took a minute to adjust herself, appearing more comfortable as she directed her body in my direction.

“we would always talk about the moments we would see each other at international games or champions league games before we really knew each other and how we couldn’t have expected to turn into such ‘good friends’ but i’ve never wanted to be just friends with you.” she took a deep breath. “do you know how hard it is to have you so close to me and not do exactly what I want to you, to not touch you how I want to touch you, to not be able to feel you in the ways i’ve dreamt about, every minute has felt like torture.”

before my mind could even process what she was saying, my body did, my legs instantly pressed together looking for some kind of friction as she spoke.

“the night we kissed was everything i wanted and more, seeing you exactly how i imagined, in my bed was like a dream, i could’ve pinched myself, but we were drunk and i wanted to remember every second of it and i wanted you to remember it too, i wanted it to happen, but not like that”

“ale i wanted it too, but why did you ignore me after? and then ask for space? that's what confused me” i admitted.

“i think i was ashamed of myself, it was like i lost out on my chance, i could’ve woke up, made you breakfast in bed and asked you on a proper date, but instead i rushed you out and ignored you, yo era una idiota, lo siento mucho. sé que no te merezco después de mis acciones, pero por favor perdóname.”

i sat with her answer for a minute, processing what she said and the apology that came with it, yet that didn’t explain everything, “can i ask you a question?”

“si, anything” she nodded, now leaning against the sofa as if she found some comfort in telling me how she felt.

“were the texts from you?” i questioned, raising my eyebrows.

“si” was all she responded.

“por que?” i asked, switching to spanish in hopes that it’d give her prompt for a real answer.

“i was jealous, you’re mine and that didn’t change just because we weren’t talking, every second I saw you with her or her hands on your body during recovery made me so angry and i assumed you blocked my number after i ignored you at the game so i needed to find another way” her reply was nonchalont, as if she would find it normal receiving the same kind of texts.

her jealously and possessiveness had my legs clenching together further, the heat spread across my body as her words went through my head, “i thought i had a stalker” i joked, wanting to lighten the mood, “it was pretty hot actually”.

i watched as a smirk grew on her face, her eyes darting down to my thighs as she watched me shuffle in hopes of getting the sensation i was desperate for.

“oh really?” she mocked, her head tilting, her tongue flicking across her bottom lip.

all of a sudden i shrunk in her gaze, any confidence i previously had disappeared, and all i could do is nod in response.

her hand reached out and met my cheek, her eyes flicked between my lips and eyes, “can i?” she asked. yet again all i could do was nod.

her lips instantly crashed against mine, any moment of tension had completely disappeared and the way our lips moved against each other felt natural and familiar. she kept one hand on my jaw as she tugged on my waist signalling me to move closer, she guided me as i straddled myself on her lap. her hands moved up and down my sides as i wrapped my arms around the back of her neck. her teeth grazed the bottom of my lip allowing her tongue to gain access to my mouth, winning the battle of dominance before it even started. my hips rocked against her lap, begging her to fulfil the throbbing feeling that was building between my legs.

one of her hands moved to the back of my neck as she tilted my head back to gain better access to my neck, her lips placing desperate but passionate kisses along my jaw before attaching themselves to the spot underneath my ear causing an aching explicit moan to leave my lips.

“tell me what you want from me” she whispered, her teeth grazing my ear lobe.

“i want you to fuck me” i whined, making no attempt to hide how desperate I was.

“be specific amor, how do you want me to fuck you?” she pressed, continuing her assault on my neck.

“ale please, do whatever you want to me, i just want you to make me feel good”

“eres tan buena para mi princesa, you sound so pretty when you beg” she was quick to use her strength to her advantage, standing up from the sofa with my legs wrapped around her waist and her hands resting underneath my arse as she walked into the bedroom and dropped me onto the bed.

“take it off” she demanded, lifting her own top over her head and discarding it on the floor.

i’d seen her without a shirt on many times, mostly in the team locker rooms, but this was something else. my eyes traced down her torso, taking in every part of her incredibly toned body, looking at her felt like looking at a piece of art that hung in the louvre yet as she stood in front of me all i could think about was how lucky i was to be the only one seeing this version of the art.

“i’ve waited long enough, don’t make me rip it off of you” she demanded, snapping me out of my gaze as she reached to tug at the hem of my t-shirt.

i was quick to comply, pulling my t-shirt over my head and shuffling my shorts down my legs before kicking them off the end of my bed and propping myself up on the pillows.

“i’d love to say i’m going to tease you and see how long you it takes to break you but i don’t think i can wait any longer” with that she was quick to join me on the bed, her knee pushing between my thighs making space for her.

her lips reconnected with mine as her hand traveled down my body, stopping at every opportunity that would heighten my arousal, gripping at my chest before letting her hand trail further downwards. her hands were quick to remove my underwear, granting her better access to what she wanted. she was quick to run her fingers through my folds.

“tan mojada para mi ya” she groaned. my face flushed a bright red as she spoke, but how else could i possible be expected to react with her on top of me, “did she make you this wet?” she asked, the jealousy prominent in her voice. i quickly shook my head, denying the claim.

“are you going to be loud for me?” she asked, her lips making their way across my chest.

“make me loud” i spoke up.

“oh amor, are you getting confident?” she replied, her head raised allowing her to look down on me asserting her control once again, leading me to feel as if maybe i overstepped with my words.

“maybe” i muttered, barely above a whisper.

“don’t get too confident or you won’t like the consequences, i want to hear everything, vale?” she raised her eyebrow, waiting for my response but the possible threat was enough to make me quiet and only nod in response.

my compliant nod was enough for her to reattached her lips to my chest, leaving marks as she went, whilst her fingers began to circle my clit causing my hips to arch towards her hands in hopes to increase the pressure and luckily enough for me she did exactly that.

she propped herself up on her elbow and watched as her hand pushed me closer to the edge. it didn’t take her long to slip two long slender fingers into me, curling them as they pressed into me. her pace quicken causing me to throw my head back whilst biting my lip to suppress the noises that were desperate to leave my mouth.

“i thought you were my good girl, do i need to remind you what i want to hear?” she asked not taking a minute to slow down and let me response, in fact pumping into me faster and harder.

“fuck, more ale please” i whined, the built up sounds of satisfaction finally leaving my mouth.

“buena chica, you feel so good” she smirked, revealing in the effect she had on me.

i could feel myself tightening around her fingers, “i’m getting close”.

“mhm are you going to ask?” she mocked, leaning her lips down to meet mine.

“please can i come alexia?” i breathed out against her lips.

“come for me bebita” she whispered before locking my lips against hers. it only took seconds for me to fall apart underneath her, bucking by hips against her fingers as she continued fucking me through my orgasm. her fingers began to slow down to the point where they matched my slow heavy breathing. she took her fingers out, leaving me feel empty without her touch.

“that felt incredible” i puffed out, trying to regain my breath.

before i could fully recover, alexia was quick to shuffle herself down, placing her head in-between my thighs as she peppered kisses along my inner thighs. her arms wrapped around my thighs, holding me down in the exact position she wanted me in.

“ale i don’t know if i can -“ i was quickly cut off.

“one more please, let me taste you” i knew she wasn’t asking me and that it was more of statement of what she was about to do. before i could agree her tongue made quick work in heightening my senses again.

her tongue flicked across my clit, making me squirm under her grasp, i could feel myself building up easily considering i had barely had a minute to breathe after her first take over of my body.

“you taste so fucking good” her words vibrated against me, sending me further into a pool of pleasure.

i could feel myself coming undone underneath her again, her tongue worked expertly, “can i ale, for you please” i pleaded.

“yes, i want everyone hear it” her permission made me buckle, my moans getting louder as her movements pushed me over the edge.

she was quick to move herself back up to my face, placing one hand on my cheek as she smashed her lips into mine, allowing me to taste myself, she pulled away with a smile painted across her face, grinning as if she won the lottery. she fell next to me, her head turning to meet my direction. I had imagined what it would be like to lay next to her in this way, after doing something you wouldn’t necessarily do with a ‘close friend’ and yet this feeling surpassed it.

“that was everything i’ve ever wanted” i smiled.

“me too” she said, returning my smile. we sat in a comfortable silence, both with grins stuck across our face smiling like two teenagers who had just kissed for the first time.

“sooo, did i fuck you better than she did?” she asked, breaking the silence with a question that i knew was laced with jealousy.

i giggled slightly, “yes, of course you did”.

“good, i don’t think i could forgive you if that answer was any different” her hand reached out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, her hand resting against my cheek.

“you’re such a mix of jealousy and stubbornness” i commented.

“how could i not be jealous of someone touching what belongs to me” she smiled innocently as if what she just said wasn’t one of the hottest things possible.

in that moment all my angst towards her disappear. this was everything i had been waiting for for months, even after she ignored me for weeks i couldn’t not give into her, especially with a smile like hers and definitely when her fingers were inside of me.

she pulled me into her chest, her arms wrapping around me as if they were made for it, i felt a level of comfort that i hadn’t felt since the day after the incident.

alexia’s phone buzzed from the floor as she reached over to grab it.

cata : i came back to check on y/n but by the sounds of it, you two are all good now, i’m never forgiving you for the things i heard

“well your bestfriend heard everything, so good luck with that” she laughed, flashing her phone in my direction.

you would think i’d feel somewhat embarrassed, but not this time “so so worth it”, i grinned.

a/n - first time writing smut so any feedback is very much appreciated, any spelling or grammar mistakes is because google docs is homophobic

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso oneshot #woso imagine #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #fcb femení

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navydoves · 30 days ago

Text

Blood Bag — Chapter 2

“Does it hurt?”

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✎ᝰ. summary. you’re a vampire, you need blood. sylus is the most powerful man on this side of the planet. he has what you need.

✎ᝰ. cw. you’re a vampire/sylus is a human, yearning sylus, depressed sylus, lonely sylus, luke and kieran are side characters, not unrequited but maybe a little, ANGSTY, erotica, lots of pining here bro, sylus is currently getting more pathetic! ✎ᝰ. wc. 6.7k

✎ᝰ. a/n. alright a little bit overdo for a second chapter but here it is! hoorrraaay! sorry for the delay, i’m still a student and i do this in my free time. if you have any questions about the story, i answer all dms so feel free. this is not proof read because i wanted to get it out asap but i will try n fix things as time goes on. hope this chapter is satisfactory to you all and if anyone wants to be tagged for chapter 3, lmk!

chapter 1

he couldn’t believe he was in this position right now, both literally and figuratively. cradling the soft hair of this vampire’s head and pushing them further into the crevice of his neck, encouraging them to suck blood that even his enemies didn’t have privilege of seeing.

that first sink of your fangs stung a lot more than any normal nicks he’d gotten, but his body didn’t flinch away. he barely made a face as the room filled with groaning and slurping noises, all coming from you and your eager, insatiable hunger.

he thought maybe a few minutes of sucking would be enough time—enough blood—to pull you away and finally start questioning you, but you were insistent. and sylus, he was generous.

you were pawing at his chest, gripping onto his shirt and anchoring yourself closer as you reveled in what was the best blood to ever cross your tongue. you didn’t have the mental capacity to think about how he wasn’t pulling you away, how he just sat there compliant in your feeding. even when blood dripped down his neck and collarbones he made no move to clean it. he just held you.

but that generosity is why you were able to survive, and why the two of you are here where you are now.

his voice is a low rumble, interrogative but not angry. “who are you?” sylus asks once you finally pull back. he mentally remarks how much better you look, health gracing your face in a way that wasn’t there minutes earlier. you turn your head. defiant? maybe. scared? he wouldn’t believe it. “speak up. you don’t get to choose when and how you’re fearful. you weren’t hesitant when you broke into here, you don’t get to be hesitant now.”

he hooks a finger under your chin and turns your face to face his. one of his eyes glow, you notice, but that wasn’t your issue right now. you say your name quietly and it causes an identifiable feeling to sprout in sylus’s chest. it seemed so familiar… but it wasn’t the name on the report.

he holds up the slightly crumpled paper to you, eyes piercing into yours as if daring you to lie. “and who is this?” he sees you avert your gaze again but before he could force your face back to him, you answer.

“me.”

it takes a few moments but an incredulous chuckle escapes sylus throat. “can you see why i’m a little confused then?” he rasps, frustration lining his voice. all this time. “what’s a dead girl from philos doing in my fucking house? ah sorry, supposed to be dead.” sylus leans in closer, his hot breath crowding your face and forcing you to back up into the corner. “and you fucking bit me. you bit me in hopes of turning the strongest man in the n109 zone into a vampire, but guess what sweet thing? it didn’t fucking work. i’ll bring your dead body back to whomever you work for and show them myself how much of a fucking failure they are. would you like that? because death is mercy compared to what they’ve done to you.”

the monologue does little to disturb you, sylus notices. you instead keep still with your eyes squinted and brows furrowed, like you were a little disgusted at him and his threats. but whatever you were feeling was irrelevant to sylus. how you got yourself here and why was the only thing on his mind.

he was near seething at this point. seeing the stress he’s dealt with over the last several weeks be given a face and a weakness was nirvana itself for him. all the ways he could make you suffer and make an example out of you; he could show all other nations just exactly how to deal with a vampire.

“silence huh? it’s fine, i can play the long game,” sylus grins. you were still unmoving but there was unspoken emotion in your eye. behind what seemed like disgust, you looked a bit defeated. and despite wanting to explore what you were hiding, sylus couldn’t bring him to stare at your eyes for too long. it was painful. it felt painful, like he knew those eyes and that pain too well.

sylus stands, grabs you by the nape of your cloak, and almost drags you out of the room. he was so sick and tired of this, he needed a break even if he did also need answers.

“luke, kieran,” sylus mumbles while stepping out of his office door, you stumbling behind him. “take her to security and confine her in a silver cage. any and every camera in there should be pointed at her. keep the lights low, i don’t want to kill her yet.”

the twins perk up seeing sylus and the strange, staggering girl. when they caught her she could barely walk or fight back, but now she was up on two feet.

“silver? lights?” luke mumbles, not believing the conclusion he was about to come to.

“vampire,” kieran finishes that thought telepathically.

both their faces were a little horrified-looking. a vampire? here? in their estate? the same string of questions that crossed sylus earlier was now being shared by the twins.

“wait but, h—“

sylus raises his hand and cuts kieran off. “i gave you orders, none of which say ‘ask sylus questions.’ take her there, do what i asked and then come back up. no interrogating, no torturing, nothing. you speak to me only.”

the twins exchange a glance and nod imperceptibly before moving toward you and hooking you tightly against their bodies with their arms. without question, without fuss, they stumble you to the elevator and give sylus one last concerned look before disappearing from the hall.

sylus stays still for several moments before grasping at his hair and groaning.

“fuck me.”

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“she… she bit you?” luke whispers.

kieran wasn’t able to even formulate words at the impossible scenario, but this was neither impossible nor a scenario, it was the reality.

“she did… twice,” sylus responds, his hands rubbing at his face. after weeks of high stress all he could do now was sit in his exhaustion and not even triumph in catching his prey. and sylus loved catching his prey. “but… i let her the second time. the first time, i don’t know how or when but she got to me but i was asleep. the second time was just now. she was dying and… i couldn’t let the vermin perish without knowing how she infiltrated the n109 zone and the estate.”

the twins stay uncharacteristically still while they absorbed sylus’s words. the quarantining and stalking of the house was finally being explained to them; a vampire under their noses this whole time.

“so then… boss are you…” luke continued, “are you… a vampire now?”

there was tense silence between the three. “no, i’m not. a dragon like me can’t be taken down so easily, but i do feel weaker.” he sighs, sitting up and looking to the ceiling. “not just physically, but mentally. like i’ve been duped and that i’ve gone soft. she got me in a weak spot i didn’t know i had, and i hate having weak spots.”

with his head angled up, kieran could see the fresh bite mark on sylus’s neck. it made him wince. “what’re you gonna do then?” he asks softly.

sylus gives the question a few moments of thought. torture was almost a guaranteed way to get anyone to talk, but he still wasn’t a fan of that idea even to a nuisance like you. your refusal to speak could mean an indefinite amount of things. as hypocritical as it was; maybe you were scared. or maybe you (rightfully) didn’t trust sylus, or you were still dying, or that you didn’t want to give up the name of the people you were working with. if you were with others anyway—that conclusion was one sylus came up with on his own. but how could you not? this couldn’t have been a one-woman-show.

“i don’t know…” sylus exhales, “i’m going to get what i need to out of her, but this entire thing is… more than complicated. i do know what we aren’t going to do, though.” the twins lean in a bit interested as sylus readjusts himself. “we aren’t going to torture her. we have to keep her at least stable. she can’t start withering away under our noses and all of the sudden, next day we walk in on a dead vampire in my house.”

luke glances down as if he didn’t really like the idea. “sounds like we’re treating her more like a guest and not an intruder,” he mumbles, “an intruder that tried to turn you, by the way.”

“luke,” sylus warns, “listen i don’t need the remarks, okay? i know… it’s not what you guys want but we can’t just kill her and… i just can’t bring myself to torture her. it’s never been my sort of play and it’s not now.”

another tense silence follows.

“so then…” kieran whispers, “how’re you gonna keep her ‘stable’?”

“as long as we keep the lights low and give her blood—“ sylus cuts himself off. fuck, blood. you need blood. you need blood to survive and he can’t just give you half-assed meals to eat. you’re a vampire, that’s the whole fucking issue here. “listen,” he continues, “let me worry about the logistics. i don’t want you two going near her until i deem it safe. god forbid you two get hurt in someway, it’ll be in my conscience until i die myself.”

the twins perk up slightly. “really? you’d care if we got hurt or died?” luke asks almost cheerfully. kieran simply looks at his brother to reprimand him.

“i’m not gonna entertain that question,” sylus gruffs. “all i ask of you two is for some space while i consider where to go from here. if i need your help, ill come to you, but for the most part, just go on about your duties like normal. is that understood?”

the twins look at each other and then back at sylus before giving him a slight nod of understanding. being asked to pretend like everything was normal when there was a vampire a few floors down was insanity to them, but they knew better than to fight their boss on this. sylus needed his time, and they trusted him to effectively handle this.

“alright, boss,” kieran sighs softly, “but if your condition gets any worse, tell us okay? we at least wanna be there for you. y’know… even if we can’t do anything about it.”

the twins slump slightly—kieran’s word came off a lot more solemn they he intended. boss wouldn’t die, right? they hoped boss was stronger than a few vampire bites. but that look on boss's face did not quell their anxieties. that look of pure exhaustion.

instead of fighting them on their insistence, sylus simply nods at the two, acknowledging their care for him even if he felt it unnecessary. he motions for them to leave his office and doesn’t bother wishing them a goodnight. the last thing on his mind was pleasantries.

alone, in his office, with nothing but his thoughts and an aching body affected by the vampire bite, sylus was unsure of what to do next. he had to talk to her, of course, but how to was the issue. another issue was just how to feed her.

former hostages, criminals, suspects, all that galore didn’t compare to this simple vampire. because at least with them, coaxing the truth with threats and humiliation came easily. humans were easy to crack, but vampires? maybe not this one.

when his eyes glance over it, sylus immediately goes back to the discarded death report on the side of the room. this was another thing he wasn’t sure how to interpret. was this another fake report? but no, you said it yourself, this was you. well this was supposed to be you. a human from philos.

staring at the paper would do him no justice, though, and the answers had to come directly from you otherwise he would find dead ends all day. so for the time being, he would just… be calm. the ache from the bite was still strumming through sylus’s veins and he needed it gone before he could make his way to you. no way was he gonna let you see your effect on him, he’d already been humiliated in your wake once.

sylus stands, moves over to the black and red encrusted mirror on the wall, and faces a man he no longer recognizes. today that man would become more of a stranger.

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clink, clank, clink, clank.

those were the sounds of sylus’s boots stepping down the stairs to the security room where you were kept away. he opted for the stairs and not the elevator to give himself time to… think, of course. he wasn’t stalling. he had no reason to… this is just some silly vampire that he could deal with. just another obstacle in his life that would make him stronger, coming out the end of it.

at the bottom of the stairs, he sighs. the air was already tense with the sound of generators and electricity humming throughout. he knew you were in there, he could see you vaguely from the door separating the stairs and the room. you were quiet as a mouse and still as a possum. he hoped what he had would change that, make you more lively to talk.

in one hand was a silver box filled with jars of animal blood that he hoped you would drink for food. in the other hand was a notepad and pen, something for you to use to write if you refused to verbally speak. if you could write at all.

it took him a few more moments of “thinking” before he decided to step into the room. his strides were long and calm, no doubt or hesitation in his movements. he knew better than to come off as anything but confident. he was confident and still all the more irritated at the situation.

outside of your silver cage he pulls a rogue wheely chair and sits on it quietly before setting his things down. he could see your face peeking out of your hood, scanning his lower half.

there’s a heavy silence between the two of you. it was understood that you weren’t going to speak first anyway, so the man across from you took that liberty.

“are you hungry?” sylus asks lowly, not concern in his voice but a neutral tone for a very simple question. as expected, you don’t answer. he reaches down to the silver box and clicks it open. one by one, he places the jars of blood in front of your cage, just out of your reach. “i have blood here, ready for you. i’ll give you some morsels… but your vow of silence will prevent me from doing so. you should understand it’s in your best interest to speak.”

no reply. he sees just slight interest in your very subtle movements, but nothing more. the jars are in eyeshot of your vision, but whether it be disinterest or defiance, you weren’t making any attempts at them.

sylus places the box down and picks up the pad and pen. he slides it through the slivers between bars around your cage, right where you can reach it. “if this vow of silence is so important to you,” he drones on, “then it’d be easier for you to write. either way, i’m the only one who can keep you alive now. you know how desperate you were for blood just yesterday, it wasn’t a fun feeling was it? starvation. so i’d advise you to communicate if you want to avoid that pain.”

sylus inches one of the jars to you with his foot, watching carefully how you react. for several moments you were perched the same—huddling at the farthest edge from him in your cloak, hiding your form and face from him. but in the next second, you were moving. with one snatch you took the jar from the other edge and just when sylus thought you were about to scarf it all down, you instead threw it to the side of the cage and smashed it into pieces. blood was now soaked onto the floor and dripping down the bars, some of it on your cloak.

from under your hood, sylus could see seething anger from your eyes. in the short time he’s known you, he’s seen you desperate, upset, fearful, disgusted, and now angry. the sudden violence took sylus aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

he scoffed. “throwing a fit now? i’m not here to talk morals with a vampire but i don’t know if you have the right to be angry when you’re the cause of all of your problems.” sylus tilts his head and taps the side of his cheek with a slow, pondering finger. “there goes one of your meals. i won’t be providing more so think rationally before you break another jar.”

sylus watches you tentatively now. you were so interesting and annoying all at the same time. he couldn’t let you starve to death, so his words were more-so puffery—somewhat lies. he couldn’t say that he was desperate for your answers because it gave you the power, and you’ve had enough power over him at this point.

he had to play his cards right. he couldn’t seem too soft, but he couldn’t threaten you too much because he wouldn’t be able to go through with threats. you’d catch onto his bluff real quick. if you were to break all the jars, what was he gonna do next? go back on his word and give you more? an unfortunately smart vampire like you would just continue using him.

but thankfully… he didn’t need to do all that overthinking.

“i don’t want this… fucking animal blood,” you grit out lowly.

for the first time, sylus was hearing your real, normal voice. not the voice that was dried up and begging for blood and not the meek one you used to point yourself out on the report. a full, hearty voice. a voice he… felt distantly familiar in his chest somewhere. but sylus tries not to let his surprise show.

“so, you’d rather starve?” he chuckles, “i’m fine with that. means i won’t feel guilty when you die cause it’ll be a death by suicide.”

he wasn’t fine with that.

“you’re not fine with that.”

sylus raises a brow. you pull your cloak back and let your true anger show in the very dim light of the security room. you still looked healthy and nourished, at least enough to give you this newfound energy you had. what a soft face for such a cruel creature.

“i don’t plan on starving,” you continue, “but i don’t plan on drinking animal blood. it has no nutritional value to me.”

another low laugh rips from sylus’s chest. “you think you have the right to be picky as well? may i remind you where you are and who you’re speaking to? this is the last sovereignty on earth to be so pompous. humor me then, how do you plan on surviving?”

a beat, then your voice. “sylus,” you whisper rather softly.

“huh?” sylus grumbles.

“that’s who i’m speaking to, but that’s also how im gonna survive. im gonna survive off of you. your blood.”

sylus takes a moment to just simply stare at you and take in your indignation before a small fit of laughter broke into him. it welled up from a few chuckles to a genuine and hearty sound from his chest, pure amusement and disbelief lacing every sound. you simply stare back, annoyed and somewhat unsure of what to make of the situation.

“i’m being serious.”

“i’m aware, and that’s why it’s funny,” sylus retorts. “you’re trying to use my own desperation against me like i’m feeble enough to just give into your demands. let me take a little guess. you want my blood so that in exchange, i get information out of you? yeah? not a chance.”

sylus would be lying if he said he didn’t already consider this deal. he figured that if there was any negotiation between you two, it would have something to do with him being generous with you. you had something he wanted; so despite you being the one in the cage, you were leading this discussion—and he didn’t like that.

“i’m not quite sure why you’re laughing like the idea is outlandish,” you respond with a slightly offended tone. “it’s not like you can’t take it. for the things i could tell you, a few pints of blood to hold me over is cheap. sylus, head of onichynus and overseer of the n109 zone, turning down a bargain that could uplift his sovereignty to even greater heights… because he can’t part with some blood? pathetic.”

sylus’s amusement quickly falters at your words. your words could be bluff or exaggerated, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. at the very least you had some insight on him and his sovereignty enough to speak with such familiarity. i mean, fuck, you made it into his estate—if anything you knew intimate details about his own personal life.

sylus tilts his head in irritation and bares his teeth slightly. “i’m sure you didn’t come all the way here to give me some sort of extraordinary intel out of the goodness of your heart. you broke in and bit me, not much of a conversation there.”

you smirk slightly. “it’s true, i came here for your blood. but i also didn’t come here to share my life story with you. i’m only negotiating now because i’ve been caught.”

blood? fuck, he was one step into the door now. a motive—he has some sort of motive as to why you’re here, but that answer of yours only begs more questions. why his blood specifically? it didn’t seem like you wanted it because of his status, but what other reason could you have.

“my blood?” sylus repeats mockingly. “surely a quick-witted, mouthy vermin like you could get her hands on any human that walks by. there are two healthy young men in my estate, blood surely fresher than mine. the n109 zone is filled with young vigilantes with blood surely more course than mine. and not to mention… philos—if that is your birthplace—is populated by high-ranking officials and families, with blood surely sweeter than mine. and yet, you’ve chosen me? why have i been hexed?”

there’s a slight flicker of dejection in your expression that adds such a human element to you. every new emotion in your face feels so utterly familiar to sylus, it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“i think you know why i chose you,” you whisper back.

“what?”

there was silence from you now. of course there was. you were still playing games with him and for him to play with you, it would cost him some blood. in the silence that ensues, sylus considers your words. what did he have that regular humans didn’t? apart from his status and power, what could make him a target for blood?

and then.

an idea hits him.

but it was… unfathomable.

he could almost feel the horns growing on the sides of his head, the cold scales prickling at his skin, the phantom tail moving behind him. that body that he once was was luxurious but also all the more hated. luke and kieran were born from a human woman. the vigilantes in the n109 zone were unreformed, outcasted humans from other nations. philos was regal, but not divine. their people and rulers were all human.

but sylus… sylus is a dragon.

or at least, was.

he furrows his brows and eyes you down in your cage. you meet his gaze with an equally challenging look. there was unspoken tension between you two, secrets that both of you were unsure how or if to unravel.

you broke the tension first.

“i need blood,” you whisper. “i’m getting hungry again and i wither away quickly. i don’t want whatever pigs blood you’ve brought. stop fighting me, just give me what i need.”

another short silence.

“i have every weapon you could imagine perfected in silver and stocked up in this very room,” sylus states very, very carefully. he gestures to the crates around them. “if i sense even the slightest bit of threat from you, i kill you with no hesitation. and i will do it in the most painful way possible.”

you simply look at him, resolute unshaken. you nod.

with no words to continue his threat, sylus reached into his jacket pocket and takes out a small knife foldable knife. he clicks it out and brings it to his palm for a cut before your voice stops him.

“no,” you jut in rather loudly, “i need it… from the source. it’s not as good otherwise.”

sylus opens his mouth to denounce that idea but your voice once again stops him. a small, almost pitiful, and unusually earnest, “please” that falls from your lips. he stills with the knife against his palm for a few more moments before clicking it back and putting it away. while at the beginning of all this, giving into your demands would’ve been humiliating, the idea of you knowing about his past is even more so. so now, it’s easy to unlock the door to your cage and gesture you to come to him.

and you, so as to not wear him out or risk your life, come to him slowly and quietly. once close, gently, you climb his lap and tilt your head into his neck. his scent was all too familiar to you, it almost made you sob right there, but your hunger was more pronounced.

the bite was a soft and almost imperceptible nick to sylus’s throat, followed by the sting of your sinking fangs.

the only thing sylus could do at this point was wait until you had your fill like he did when he first caught you. you weren’t as loud as the day before, though. instead of desperate slurping and groaning, you were quietly gulping with soft sighs to accompany it.

he felt quite humbled by letting this happen to him, but at this point, maybe it was too late for him to care that much.

sylus felt the crowd of your body against his as you sank in for more. he was unsure of what to do with his hands so, with a bit of resignation, he placed them on your hips and savored your familiar warmth against his body.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

two crow masks were discarded to the middle of the couch. luke and kieran faced each other on opposite ends of it.

“do you think he’ll be okay?” luke asks softly. him and his brother spent the last few hours after they put the vampire away, worrying and mulling the situation over.

“we’ve seen boss get through worse. he’ll be alright. there’s no reason to worry luke,” kieran responds trying to reassure. except, the worry between them didn’t let up one bit.

“but has he been through worse? forget conflicts and trade wars and everything else between the sovereignties. no one has gotten to boss this personally before. i mean… almost killing him? kieran…”

“luke,” kieran sighs softly, “you saw him. two vampire bites and he’s still holding up. i can’t think of anyone else who could do that. we can worry all we want but… but it’s not our place to do anything. boss won’t listen to our advice anyway.” kieran rubs his face and perches his chin on his palm. a soft sigh escapes him. “plus… he has his own weird way of caring for us. he won’t let us help ‘cause he worries we’ll be like… traumatized or something.”

luke chuckles just slightly, “at least he cares.”

the twins both laugh a little painfully at the slightly morbid humor. they meet eyes, their identical faces mirroring identical expressions of exhaustion.

“what’d’you think he’s doing now?” kieran asks.

“hm, probably threatening her with all his weapons to get a confession or something.” luke responds.

well it wasn’t going to be that difficult.

“does it hurt?” you ask softly while looking at sylus through the bedroom mirror. you were sat decorously at the small round table in the room, glancing over to sylus who was standing before the mirror and patching up the bite mark.

“doesn’t matter, don’t small talk me,” he responds straightly.

after a few more moments of ensuring the bandage patch was securely on, sylus strode to the small table where you were sat quietly. apart from your need for blood, there was unfortunately nothing odd about you. the politeness was strange. he doesn’t waste any time.

“how did you get in here?” sylus presses.

you glance around, a little unsure of how exactly to answer this. “well, you. you told me,” you respond.

sylus knits his brows together and almost laughs. he shakes his head incredulously. “no i didn’t. how did you get in here?” he repeats.

“the bar,” you state simply. “you were at a bar a about a week ago. you were downing shots and racking up a tab. first ten or so it was my coworker who served you, then it was me. unprovoked, you started complaining about the renovations of your home. i simply continued asking questions and you… well you essentially told me the security was off until they were done. i asked you at some point how you’d get home so drunk and you told me the numbers of your chauffeurs. once you were finished with your drinks, i offered to call them and went into the back, got my male coworker to do it, and took off before the renovations were done. i made it just before you did and overheard your… twins? talking about their bedrooms on the fifth floor. so i took a chance and went up there to also find your room, where i hid until you came back home.”

the monologue of your story leaves sylus absolutely bewildered. it was the first time he really was showing something genuine to you. his face was crumpled up in some sort of upset and disbelief, and despite his racing thoughts, he couldn’t really say anything. you both look at each other in practiced silence. what could he make of this?

“you were plotting against me? working for that bar knowing i frequented it to get me at my most vulnerable,” sylus laughs humorlessly, “and you found a blessing just that day.”

you shake your head. “that’s only half true. i wasn’t working there knowing you frequented it. in fact i’d only been there a week before you showed up. but i did take advantage of you and your situation once i had the chance.”

yet another tense silence. sylus couldn’t really believe how direct and open you were being. everything you said seemed honest to him, a man who’d dealt with dishonesty from criminals his whole life. but what sylus couldn’t believe more-so was how much of an idiot he had been. his loose lips and foggy mind haphazardly put him and the twins in danger and he couldn’t even be proud to finally figure out some of the mystery.

“but that doesn’t make sense,” he grits, “you were in the n109 zone as a vampire? we have border security checks for threats. are there fucking more of you?”

he notices how you hesitate to answer. the last thing he needed was for you to say there was some vampire affiliated gang in his sovereignty.

“no, not that i know of,” you respond softly. “i came to the n109 zone a long, long time ago. when i first turned, that is. i came from philos. the outbreak there was bad and there was worldwide panic due to vampirism. after i got bitten, i escaped because i knew if anyone found out i’d be staked immediately. the n109 zone seemed the safest because of its reputation of taking in outcasts. no one would question me here, everyone minds their business. so i’ve lived here for the last… i guess many decades.”

“many decades?” sylus repeats. the disgruntled expression on his face couldn’t properly portray the mess that was his mind. it felt like week after week for the past almost month, he’d been beaten down with a stick and left to lay in exhaustion. his worldview was constantly changing.

“have you killed?!” he barks. “tell me, have you killed anyone for blood?! you’ve killed haven’t you? you’ve gone this many years living under the radar, you’ve surely killed—“

“i haven’t!” you yell, stopping sylus’s growing anger. “i haven’t! i haven’t at all. i’ve been barely getting by with animal blood. fucking… killing rats in alleyways and stray cats and dogs… stuff like that. i’ve rationed frugally, okay? stake me for trying to fucking live, but i’ve never hurt anyone.”

“how do i know that’s true?” sylus breathes out. there’s his eye, glowing again and really boring into you.

“well, i guess you don’t. but maybe you should. this is your nation after all, these are your people after all. if i really did kill someone, maybe you should’ve been fucking aware of it like a good leader. but you don’t know about killings because i didn’t kill. i hid so well and adapted to your society so perfectly that to you and to everyone else, i was human. so don’t go fucking pointing fingers at me saying i did shit i didn’t.”

sylus could feel his heart beating harder now. he was upset at you but more-so himself. but during all these decades, has he stumbled upon you? has he seen your face and heard your voice that now he thinks—

“is that why i recognize you?”

the question immediately shuts you up. he sees you move back into the chair and immediately relinquish any type of aggravation you had. you looked hurt, but he didn’t understand why.

“no… no. i’ve always hid away from you. i made sure i never saw you in person and you never saw me.” you whisper. you could feel a bitter ache in your stomach. he didn’t remember you.

sylus also backs down, sitting back in his chair.

“i need you to answer this again, and i want an honest answer,” he states firmly. “why my blood?”

a long, impending silence follows. sylus is patient. you are worried.

“dragon’s blood. your blood is more potent than any human’s. after decades of living on scraps… i needed it. when i saw the opportunity at the bar i took it, and every single bite afterward felt so, so fucking good. like nothing i’ve ever tasted before. you don’t even understand.”

dragon’s blood.

it was true that sylus was a human now, but his dragon heritage was still apart of him. it was quite literally in his blood, but that heritage was always kept a secret. sylus wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t have that boyish fear of being judged. after all, it has been instilled in him for years. outcasted as a baby dragon to a full grown one, there wasn’t a day where he didn’t face ridicule and torture for being what he was. he wasn’t cruel, but people made him cruel. only faintly did he know happiness and love brought upon a person he can no longer make out.

“why… how… do you know about my…?” sylus trails off. he hasn’t talked about his past in literal eons, and now the topic of this conversation was getting to him. similar to you, there wasn’t bitter ache within him.

“they talked about you in philos, told tales and stories about evil dragons and teach them to the kids, even. i learned about it when i was young. they never specify you, though. i just… um… happen to know.” your whispered truth was only half the truth. you couldn’t bare to be fully honest.

“…do you believe them?” sylus whispers. his eyes were squinted down at the table and searching for an answer in the air. “the stories… tales.”

you shake your head gently. “no. i don’t. and it’s not because i’ve learned differently or something. i just never have.”

sylus takes a moment to consider your words and lift his head back up. this sort of dejection was unfamiliar him, but you seemed to quell that feeling. he’s never met someone accepting of what he was. maybe it was because that disgusting form with horns and tail wasn’t before you now, but he’d take anything.

“why do you want to live?” sylus asks simply. that tired, dull look was back.

you curl your lip in thought. “because… i deserve to? i haven’t hurt anyone. i’ve lived a quiet life. i’ve paid my dues and my sins with my human life. i may be immortal but i will die one day. i’ll choose when that day is. it’s not now.”

i don’t want to be reborn. i don’t want to be reborn.

sylus lets out a small breath of surrender. he couldn’t fight you on this anymore. even with the lingering confusion in his head, you’ve answered most of his questions. a week ago, he’d imagine this moment where he finally reached the end of this mystery to be triumphant and empowering.

but he felt none of that right now. he felt a little empty. unrecognizable. like his weaknesses are loud to everyone around him.

the fog clouds him and through it he can hear your voice.

“sylus,” you whisper.

he looks to you, patient.

“can i have more blood?”

silently, he pushes out his chair and nods.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“do you think he’s in there?” luke whisper shouts to his brother. they were both huddled at the end of the hallway where the bedrooms were.

“i mean,” kieran whisper shouts back, “we’ve checked his office, the living rooms, the kitchens, the security room, he wasn’t anywhere there. this is the last place.”

“do you think something happened, kieran? i mean that damn vampire girl wasn’t in her cage!”

kieran sighs. “no, i don’t. he’s probably out at base with her or something. we never know what’s going on in his mind, he’s probably out handling this his own way.”

luke exhales in defeat. his brother was right, boss did never clue them in on his plans unless they were directly needed. he always took care of things in a very specific way that only he knew how to do. this whole situation was only worrying them because they did not like the idea of a vampire in their estate. they even made it a routine to check for bites and nicks on their bodies before and after bed, just to be sure.

“okay,” luke stands straight, “let’s just go check his bedroom and we’ll go back to our rooms before he gets mad at us for bothering him. if he’s in there anyway.”

kieran nods at his brother. the two very quietly scuffle down the hall until they were right by sylus’s bedroom door. up until this point, they were next to convinced that he wasn’t in the estate. but that was until they heard noises from behind the door.

voices, but not speech.

one of which was definitely sylus’s but the other of which was unrecognizable. they tense but decide to knock anyway. the sound is soft and non-intrusive, but it did nothing. no one came to the door and the noises didn’t stop.

kieran reaches out to knock again but luke stops him at the wrist. “let’s just…” he trails off while reaching for the doorknob, “go in.”

kieran was unsure but nods anyway. slowly, they open the door all the way in and take a moment to understand the sight they were met with.

you, the girl they recognized as the vampire, perched on sylus’s lap on the bed with your teeth sunk into his neck and sucking like it was your last meal. sylus, their boss, gently petting your head and giving you infrequent pecks to the cheek. it didn’t take long for everyone in the room to stop dead in their tracks and notice what was happening.

they froze. sylus froze. you froze.

“b-boss?”

tl: @seventeen-x , @webshooterrr9 , @theycallmesoup , @satansdaughter123 , @tyasmaple , @jaynawayna , @jadeymeciela , @namjooningera , @phisen , @eepamaawo , @lolaisoffline

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mashtatosworld · 29 days ago

Text

eyes on me (1)

summary: the beginning of your story with bigbang as a producer for the MADE documentary. but timing is everything in life. and it can split a person in two.

a/n: this will be a jiyong x reader x daesung series <3

The room was stifling.

You sat rigid, fingers clenched around your pen, silently willing yourself not to meet the eyes that had been burning into you for the last hour.

Unrelenting.

Dark.

Distrustful.

He hated you.

And he barely even knew your name.

Yang Hyunsuk continued talking, your boss nodding along beside you as you took notes diligently, pretending not to notice the weight of that gaze.

GDragon - Kwon Jiyong - made sharp, pointed comments between long stretches of silence. Each one caused your grip on the pen to falter.

“This is bullshit.”

“I refuse to cooperate.”

“I’d sooner jump off stage than film this documentary.”

This meeting was supposed to be exciting.

Your first real assignment beyond editing drafts or scrolling through fashion blogs - a role as a producer for Big Bang’s MADE tour documentary. But the band’s reactions were… mixed.

Understandable, of course.

They were intensely private.

And you?

You were the outsider, the threat. The girl with the pen and the camera and too many questions.

Especially to him.

Jiyong.

He didn’t trust you.

“I can assure you all that y/n is very good at her job,” your boss said, attempting to smooth things over. “She’ll ask questions only if you feel comfortable answering.”

“I won’t be answering anything,” Jiyong said flatly.

Hyunsuk sighed, clearly tired of this.

But then Daesung leaned forward, folding his hands on the glass table. “I think… this could be exciting.”

You met his kind eyes and gave a small, grateful smile. “A lot of artists look back on their tour footage fondly. We’re simply capturing the memories while they’re happening.”

“And sharing them with the world,” Jiyong muttered, not even looking at you.

You quickly looked down again.

“I’m in,” Youngbae offered with a shrug, glancing around. “I mean, how much harm could it do?”

“A lot,” Seunghyun muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… art is art. This is just another expression of it.”

Eventually, one by one, the others began to agree - mostly reluctantly, but the decision was made. The documentary was happening.

And you could finally breathe again.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You slipped out of the boardroom the moment the papers were signed and made a direct path to the water dispenser. Your hands trembled slightly as you filled the paper cup.

You’re okay. It’s fine. You’ve got this.

"I'm looking forward to it."

You jumped at the voice, nearly spilling your drink. Turning around, you found Daesung standing behind you, hands tucked in his pockets, smiling gently.

“Oh - sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

He tilted his head. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say… I think this’ll be a good thing.”

You smiled, nerves easing. “Thank you. I’ve always wanted to travel, so it’s already a dream job.”

He grinned. “Ah, well… tour life isn't always that dreamy. We live off instant noodles, energy drinks and alcohol. Mostly Seunghyun and Jiyong’s fault, honestly.”

You laughed, surprising yourself. “Good to know. I enjoy a glass of wine myself."

“So you'll fit right in.” He chuckled, then hesitated. “You’ll be okay, y/n.”

You met his gaze. “I hope so.”

And just like that, the sharp edges of your day began to soften.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It didn’t take long to learn that while the boys were a tight-knit group, each of them were wildly different in energy and temperament. Youngbae was warm and helpful. Seunghyun was mischievous but kind in his own way. Daesung was steady - your soft landing.

And Jiyong?

Jiyong was still a wall you couldn't climb.

He hadn’t said a word to you since that meeting. Hadn’t acknowledged your presence, even when the camera passed over him in rehearsals or during casual crew meals.

But he watched.

You felt it.

And it was only a matter of time before that fire did something more than just burn.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Touring with Big Bang was like being stuck inside a fever dream.

The days blurred into long stretches of rehearsal, cramped travel, last-minute tech issues, and night after night of performances that left you breathless - even from behind the camera.

And through all of it, you were alone.

Floating on the edges of the crew, invisible in the shadows, with your headphones on and your clipboard clutched like armour.

You were good at your job. Everyone said so.

But being surrounded by a group as close as BigBang- brothers in every sense of the word - made your isolation feel ten times heavier.

The hardest part?

Jiyong still hadn’t said a word to you.

He’d laugh with Youngbae, joke with Seunghyun, hang off Daesung’s shoulder like the most charming man on earth - but with you, it was silence.

Except his eyes.

He looked at you.

Always.

Sharp glances across the dressing room. Lingering stares during soundcheck. You’d turn a corner and find him already watching.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to run or ask him why.

But then, during a show in Osaka, something cracked.

You were standing in the wings, eyes following Jiyong as he strutted off-stage after Zutter - sweat-soaked and breathless, his mic swinging from his hand.

He was dazzling.

Magnetic.

You didn’t expect him to look your way.

And you definitely didn’t expect him to collapse.

It was like a string had been cut - his body dropping suddenly, gracelessly, onto the floor.

The crew screamed.

Chaos erupted.

You didn’t think.

You just ran.

Dropping your gear, you were the first at his side, kneeling beside him as he fought to stay conscious.

His skin was blazing hot, clothes soaked through.

Heatstroke.

You’d seen it before.

And you knew it could be life-threatening.

You grabbed a cold bottle of water from the nearest outstretched hand, pressing it to his neck, fanning his face with your hand.

Other frantic hands joined yours, but they focused on tugging at his clothes, unzipping the jacket only to force a new one in its place.

"What are you doing?" you snapped at them but they didn't listen to you, only focused on dressing him for his next song.

The idol gasped for breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his vision blurred.

“Jiyong - hey, just breathe,” you urged, voice soft but firm. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

He blinked, dazed, unfocused. You could see the fear behind his eyes. The confusion.

“We need a medic - ” His manager was yelling behind you, but Jiyong’s fingers clutched yours suddenly.

Desperate.

Shaky.

Scared.

You didn’t pull away. You squeezed back.

It was the first time he’d touched you.

Minutes passed.

"I need to go back on," he murmured, trying to lift his head from the floor. "I need - " his head hit the ground again, unable to hold himself up.

He was still due to go back on stage for Bae Bae, the opening chords awakening him from his daze.

"You need to rest," you denied but a flurry of hands soon swept him up and somehow, he remained standing. Stumbling under the lights, finishing the song with sheer willpower and muscle memory.

But the moment he was offstage again, he collapsed straight into your arms.

You caught him.

Knees hitting the ground as he sagged against you. You carefully guided him to the ground, your hand became trapped beneath his head but you let it stay there, offering him what comfort you could.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

He didn’t speak. Didn’t open his eyes. Just gripped your hand like a lifeline.

And for that moment… there was no tense silence between you.

Just two people in the quiet chaos of something real.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You hadn't seen him since that night.

A week passed by and the band were finally ready to perform again. And they did. It had been nerve-wracking, watching from the sidelines, your eyes pinned to Jiyong the whole time - wondering if he was ok.

But he had put on a show stopping performance and you breathed out in relief when it was over.

“Hey,” Daesung appeared beside you just as you were packing up camera batteries in the empty dressing room. “Would you maybe, um... did you want to grab some drinks later?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really? Me?”

"Daesung!" Seunghyun called from across the room, half-way out of the door. "Are you inviting her out tonight?"

"Yeah but - "

"Perfect. Meet us at the club! We've booked a booth." He was gone again and you turned your eyes back to Daesung whose shoulders slumped forward with a sigh.

"So it's a group outing?"

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I guess it is."

You hesitated, then nodded. “Okay... I'll see you there then."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The club was already dark and hazy by the time you arrived.

You found the others crammed into a private lounge area in the back, sharing drinks and laughing together.

You weren’t exactly dressed to impress - light jacket, hair pinned back, your usual practical self - but Daesung smiled when he saw you.

He sat beside you for a while, keeping you company as Seunghyun and Youngbae got into a heated debate over setlists, but the music was so loud that it made casual conversation nearly impossible.

Eventually, Daesung leaned in.

“This isn't really my kind of scene,” he said, with a frown. “I think I’m gonna head back.”

“Oh… okay.” You tried not to sound disappointed.

“Did you - well, are you staying here?"

You blinked, then looked down at the drink in your hand. Was that an invitation to leave with him or was the alcohol making you read into things that weren't there?

“I guess?" You looked back at him, hopeful, waiting for his response.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Ok. Stay safe, y/n. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

He gave your shoulder a warm squeeze and slipped out, leaving you sandwiched between a couple of backup dancers and your untouched drink.

A wave of disappointment and rejection rolled over you.

You needed air.

You saw the sign for the outdoor smoking area and hurried towards it. But the moment the door shut behind you, the music muffled, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

Jiyong was already out there. Alone.

Leaning against the far railing, cigarette between his fingers, drink in the other. The city lights scattered behind him like a crown, and even from this distance, you felt him watching you.

You froze.

He didn’t move. Just tilted his head slightly, lifting his glass in greeting.

You gave him a quick nod and crossed to the far end of the terrace, dragging in a breath as you leaned against the cool rail. You weren’t trying to bother him.

But then… you weren’t trying to avoid him either.

Minutes passed. You could hear the flick of his lighter, the exhale of smoke. Feel the weight of his gaze.

Then - footsteps.

Slow. Measured.

He stopped beside you, far too close for comfort, and yet you didn’t shift away.

“You don’t smoke,” he murmured, glancing down at your hands.

“Just needed air.”

He hummed low in his throat. “Me too," And then he took a long, pointed drag of his cigarette, looking down at you with an amused smirk.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "Very refreshing."

Jiyong nodded, raising a brow. "Ah, you see it's not just about the air out here. The view helps. I'm a very visual person."

His gaze travelled from the city lights back to you.

You didn’t answer.

His cologne was heady, his voice low and lazy with drink, and the heat of his body at your side was… distracting.

"I'm sorry I've been giving you such a hard time," he added after a beat. "I've been under a lot of pressure. And I don't always deal with my feelings very well. Especially if I'm nervous... You make me nervous - if that wasn't clear."

"Oh." You tightened your grip on the rail. "Is that... because of the documentary? Because of the questions?"

"What questions?" he teased. "You haven't asked me any yet."

You gave him a sidewards glance. "Is that such a surprise?"

He shook his head, casting his smile back to the city lights. "Ask me one now. I promise I'll answer."

"Ok..." You tilted your head in thought, wracking your brain for the right thing to say. All of the questions on your list back at the hotel seemed to slip your mind. "Are you having fun tonight?"

Jiyong hadn't been expecting that and laughed loudly, prompting you to smile. His radiance was infectious.

"No," he shook his head still smiling. "I wasn't, but now I think that's changing."

"Oh, it must be the fresh air," you inclined your head towards his burning cigarette with a playful smirk.

"Something like that," he murmured, taking a drag as he held your gaze. “Can I ask you a question now?”

“I'd prefer to remain a mystery,” you said smoothly.

“Shame.”

You met his intense gaze suddenly.

His lips were curved - not into a smile, not quite - and his eyes were hooded, flicking briefly to your mouth before meeting your stare again.

He set his glass down and dropped his cigarette into the remains of gold liquid.

Your breath caught.

Your heart was a drum in your chest, pounding louder than the bass of the club. His watchful gaze held you still - not demanding, but full of that unmistakable pull, the kind that made it hard to think.

You felt his hand skim the edge of your hip, then flatten against your lower back. The contact sent a shock straight through you.

“This is a bad idea,” you breathed.

“Definitely,” he said, before closing the distance.

His mouth caught yours in a kiss that was all fire and frustration, months of tension crashing together in one dizzying, hungry second.

He tasted like rum and smoke and trouble.

One hand tangled into your hair, the other still firm against your back as he drew you in.

You melted into his heated touch before you could stop yourself.

The kiss wasn’t slow or sweet - it was sharp-edged, breathless, the kind that left no room for questions.

Your back hit the railing and he pressed in closer, deepening it, tongue brushing yours as your hands gripped his jacket.

He pulled back just barely, lips grazing yours, breathing heavy. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

Instead, you kissed him again - harder this time - fingers slipping into his hair, tugging, losing yourself in the heat of it all. The city lights behind your closed eyes blurred into nothing, the bass inside became background noise, and all you could feel was him.

When he finally pulled back for air, you were flushed, dazed, and trembling slightly.

His thumb dragged lightly over your bottom lip, and his eyes locked on yours with something unreadable.

“Come with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.

You let him take your hand.

The walk back to the hotel was a blur - the quiet hush of empty hallways, the weight of silence thick with anticipation.

His hotel door clicked shut behind you.

And the rest - the way he touched you like he’d been waiting all tour to have you, the soft gasp of your name in the dark, your hands fisted in his dark hair - it all unfolded like a secret you weren’t supposed to discover.

But you did.

You remembered it. Every second.

And so did he.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It hadn't stopped there.

You had thought it would be over when you slipped out of Jiyong’s hotel room the morning after.

One night.

A simple mistake.

A mix of exhaustion, too much alcohol, and loneliness wrapped in heat and urgency. That’s all it was.

But then it happened again.

And you stopped counting eventually. Somewhere along the line, it stopped feeling like a mistake.

It wasn't just the sex - though God, that was something.

It was the way he looked at you in the dark, after everything.

Quiet.

Raw.

Human.

Not G-Dragon. Not the legend or the headline.

Just Jiyong.

Maybe it started as a way to blow off steam.

You were constantly chasing light, capturing emotion, stitching together a documentary that didn’t step too far into their privacy but still said something.

Meanwhile, he was burning at both ends - switching between stages and press rooms, trying to keep his head on straight when the weight of his persona grew too heavy.

And yet… when it was just the two of you - hidden behind locked doors and drawn curtains - it was like exhaling after holding your breath for days.

You saw him soften.

You saw him shed.

He became talkative during interviews, more present, more grounded. And you started smiling more too, laughing off the stress, knowing you'd have somewhere - someone - to fall into at the end of the night.

It wasn’t love.

But it was something.

And neither of you wanted to name it just yet.

So it stayed hidden.

Although you soon learned that privacy was rare in the life of an idol.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It was meant to be a prank.

They’d done it to Jiyong before: wait till he was mid-shower, break into his hotel room with the spare key, film him briefly, and vanish before he could snatch the phone.

Classic chaos. Group tradition.

So that night, while Jiyong was in his suite - supposedly alone - the others crept in, snickering like children, phones already rolling to film his inevitable scream when he saw them.

But when they burst into the bathroom, throwing open the door with a loud “YAH, GDRAGON, NICE ASS - ”

They froze.

So did you.

You and Jiyong were both behind the steamy glass of the shower, pressed up against each other, your hands caught somewhere they shouldn’t be.

For a second, no one moved.

Then you shrieked.

Loudly.

Jiyong’s arm shot out to pull you behind him. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Youngbae gasped and dropped his phone, covering his eyes. “Oh my god - ”

“Well that explains everything!” Seunghyun barked, already cackling as Daesung quickly backed out of the room. “I knew you were smiling more lately.”

“Hyung - shut the damn door!” Jiyong shouted.

Youngbae scrambled, eyes covered as he bashed into the door with a thud before blindly feeling for the handle and yanking it closed.

You leaned your forehead against Jiyong’s chest, mortified. “Oh my god.”

He sighed dramatically, rubbing your back. “Well, that’s one way to make it official.”

You smacked his shoulder. “This is so bad - ”

He grinned, brushing wet hair from your face. “Or maybe it's getting good.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

am i starting another series? yes. don't yell at me.

but don't worry, i've already got the next three chapters mostly finished...

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife , @sylviavf , @ldydeath , @wonyluvi , @deliciousmagazinequeen

#mashtatosworld #bigbang #kpop #gdragon #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #daesung x reader #daesung

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eldulcopatato · 1 month ago

Text

LOVE ISLAND: THE CREATOR CHAOS VILLA┊GEORGE CLARKEY

summary: A group of chaotic creators enter a villa in Mallorca to find love, fame, and maybe a little drama. But when you reunite with George Clarkey, everything changes—and not just for the cameras.

an: First time writing, kinda nervous... Just got this random thought and I just had to make this! I'm planning on making this a series (about ten chapters!) just for myself but don't mind some feedback! Hope y'all going to like this :p

the female characters are made up by me and do not resemble anyone!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Villa

The sun was a blazing orb above the Mediterranean, casting golden light across the rolling hills and glimmering coastline of Mallorca. The camera drone dipped low, zooming in on a sprawling whitewashed villa nestled in the cliffs, surrounded by palms, succulents, and an infinity pool that looked like it might spill into the sea. The soundtrack pulsed—pop remix, lots of bass, cheeky synth—and the narrator’s voice rolled in smooth as velvet:

"Tonight… six single creators… six potential chaos agents… one unforgettable summer. Welcome to Creator Chaos Villa."

You sat in the backseat of a sleek black SUV, window down, wind in your hair. There was something electric about this whole thing. You weren’t new to attention—hell, you’d built a platform off being bold, funny, and unfiltered—but the moment still felt surreal. The driver pulled up to the front gate, which swung open dramatically on cue.

You smirked. "Of course it’s automatic."

The villa came into view in pieces: white stairs, turquoise cushions, pink neon signs, and way too many mirrors. You could hear voices and laughter already coming from the pool area. You smoothed your outfit, checked your reflection in your phone screen, and whispered to yourself: "Let’s cause problems on purpose."

As you stepped out of the car, the camera caught your entrance from three angles. You took your time walking down the path, suitcase in hand, heels clicking, chin high. The sun hit just right. The villa loomed ahead like a set from a dream.

And then—you saw them.

They were all gathered near the fire pit, standing in clusters of two or three, drinks in hand, laughing too loudly, already posturing. A few of them turned at the sound of your footsteps. You clocked them one by one:

George Clarkey standing tall in a white tee and trousers, one hand on his hip, the other holding a beer. His eyes locked on you instantly, and for a fraction of a second, his casual smile faltered. Like he didn’t expect you to walk in.

ArthurTV leaned against the bar, talking animatedly to one of the girls. He raised an eyebrow when he saw you and gave a small, approving nod. Arthur was always observing.

Harry already shirtless, already yelling. He was halfway into some chaotic retelling of a story and didn’t even pause when you walked in—just turned slightly, threw up a peace sign, and kept talking.

ChrisMD lounging near the pool, sunglasses on, drink perfectly balanced on his chest. He sat up when he saw you, blinking behind the lenses like you’d just walked in from a completely different show.

ItalianBach sitting, crossed legged, on a beanbag like some European prince. He looked you up and down slowly, said nothing, but smirked. Of course he did.

Jenna, Malia, Sadie, and Odessa were already there too, making their mark. You caught bits of their conversation as you approached:

"...I’m just saying, if one more man says he’s 'emotionally intelligent' I’m gonna scream." "That’s how you know he’s not." "Jenna literally has death stare superpowers, I’m scared."

The girls turned as you arrived. Malia whooped. Jenna smiled politely. Sadie looked genuinely excited. Odessa narrowed her eyes like she’d just sensed a worthy rival.

You greeted them, shared hugs, compliments, little bits of charm you knew how to ration perfectly. But George’s eyes never left you. Not once.

You stood with the others at the fire pit, waiting for the voiceover to announce what you all already knew was coming.

"Islanders… it’s time to couple up."

The boys all looked at each other. One of them muttered, "Let the games begin."

The first match-ups happened fast. Bach paired with Sadie. Harry dramatically dropped to one knee to couple with Malia, causing her to nearly choke on her drink. Arthur went with Odessa after an unexpectedly poetic speech that left her blushing.

Then it was George’s turn.

He stepped forward, ran a hand through his hair, and looked between you and Jenna. You didn’t blink. You wouldn’t. Jenna had already made it clear that she liked him, but something simmered between you and George, unspoken and burning.

"I’m going to couple up with... Jenna," he said finally.

The crowd reacted. Jenna looked smug. George smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You kept your face neutral.

Of course he picked her. That’s what he should do.

When it was your turn, you hesitated a second longer than necessary before choosing Chris. He was safe. Sweet. He grinned when you picked him.

"Good choice," he whispered as you took your place next to him.

But George’s eyes were on you again.

You refused to look back.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

That night, as the villa filled with the sounds of music and drinks being poured, people slipped into their swimwear, laughter bouncing off the stone walls. The vibe was light and hot and buzzing with flirtation.

You sat on a couch with Sadie and Malia, watching George chat with Jenna across the pool.

"You and George know each other, don’t you?" Malia asked, sipping something suspiciously green.

You hesitated. "Kind of. We’ve DM’d."

Sadie turned. "Wait. Like, before the show?"

You shrugged. "Ages ago. Nothing happened."

Malia grinned. "Yet."

You tossed a cushion at her.

Across the villa, George excused himself from Jenna and wandered toward the kitchen, clearly just "looking for ice." You got up to grab water. You bumped into him by the fridge.

"So," he said, leaning on the counter, voice low, "this is unexpected."

You raised an eyebrow. "Me being here? Or me not throwing myself at you like everyone else?"

He grinned. "Both."

You stared at each other. Close. Too close.

"Be careful, Clarkey," you said, brushing past him. "You’re not the only one who knows how to play the game."

He laughed, low and quiet. "I know. That’s why it’s terrifying."

You didn’t look back.

But neither did he.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

word count: 1k

#george clarkey x reader #george clarkey #arthurtv #chrismd #italianbach #wroetoshaw #george clarkey imagine #uk youtubers #ukyt #arthur frederick #sidemen #sidemen imagines #george clarke fics #george clarke fluff #george clarke #george clarkey x y/n #george clarkey x you #arthur tv x reader

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thedemoninme141 · 3 months ago

Text

The Maiden Of Death Part 3

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 9K-ish

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3--Part 4--Part 5

Summary: Wednesday finally gets a glimpse of your power.

Warnings: Wednesday starting to fall? JelousWednesday! Everyone loves Enid.

(Author's note: This is a very long chapter, and ALOT OF THINGS happens in this chapter, and also had to change some things here and there which is why it took me a lot of thinking and time writing, so any feedback will be helpful!)

As Wednesday entered the quad during Lunch period, her gaze immediately fell on her usual table, where Enid was enthusiastically gesturing as she spoke to—you.

Eugene sat on one corner of the table, Enid said something particularly exuberant, causing you to stiffen visibly. Eugene, in turn, shot Enid a panicked look that screamed, Please stop talking before you get us all killed.

As Wednesday reached the table and took her seat across from you without a word, her gaze landing on Enid, who greeted her with a wide smile.

“Hey, Wednesday! Guess what?!” Enid began, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

“I would rather not,” Wednesday replied flatly.

Enid turned her attention back to you. “So, like I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and I’ve been thinking—Last year we barely won but it’s time we totally crush Bianca’s team this year. And you, Y/N, would be perfect for—”

You didn’t bother looking up from your plate. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Enid said, huffing dramatically but quickly recovering with a smile. “Okay, but seriously, you’d be perfect. We need someone like you—someone who can strategize and, you know, scare people."

“I don’t care.” Your tone was sharp enough to cut, but Enid either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Come on! You and Wednesday on the same team would be unstoppable! Seriously, we could destroy Bianca. She wouldn’t stand a chance!” Enid leaned closer to you, her smile widening as if sheer enthusiasm could wear down your resistance.

“Let me clarify,” you said, your focus still on your plate. “No. As in, absolutely not. As in, I’d rather eat broken glass than subject myself to whatever nonsense you have planned.”

Eugene shifted uncomfortably in his seat, darting a glance between you and Enid like he was bracing for an explosion.

“That was a bit harsh, But I promise you’re gonna love it once you try it!” Enid barreled on, her voice impossibly cheerful. “And imagine—Wednesday and Y/N! You’d wipe the floor with everyone.”

You set your utensils down with a quiet clink, turning to Enid with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you ever stop to think before you speak?” you asked coldly, your tone a knife's edge. “Or is it your entire personality to be this relentlessly irritating?”

Enid blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. “Wow, okay, someone’s cranky. But I get it! You’re under a lot of pressure or whatever.”

“Pressure has nothing to do with it,” you replied, your tone colder still. “You’re insufferable. You don’t listen, you don’t think, and you certainly don’t understand the concept of personal boundaries. Take a hint: I’m not interested in whatever childish game you’re dragging me into.”

Enid’s bright demeanor faltered, her smile slowly dying... The table fell silent. Even Wednesday, who often found Enid’s enthusiasm grating, felt an unexpected pang at the harshness of your words.

But Enid didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her head as she unleashed her ultimate weapon.

The puppy eyes.

“Well,” Enid said after a beat, her voice quieter and sadder. “That’s a really mean thing to say. But I’m not giving up. Because deep down, I think you’re not as awful as you want people to think.”

You stared at her, unblinking, as though calculating the odds of her ever leaving you alone. Wednesday found herself watching the exchange with acute interest, her gaze flicking between you and Enid.

Wednesday stiffened. Even she wasn’t immune to Enid’s maddeningly effective weapon. She braced herself for your response, curious to see if you’d succumb.

You let out a tired sigh. “Fine,” you said at last, your voice heavy with exasperation. “I’ll join your team. Just stop talking so I can eat in peace.”

Enid let out an excited squeal and, before you could react, threw her arms around you in a side hug. You froze completely, your body going rigid as though you’d been petrified on the spot.

Wednesday felt something shift in her chest—a faint, unpleasant pang that she quickly dismissed as indigestion. Her fingers tightened around her fork as she watched Enid cling to you, her head resting against your shoulder...

You didn’t push her away, but your voice was low and measured as you began counting down. “Three… two…”

Enid immediately released you, sitting back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry! I just got excited. Thank you so much for agreeing, though! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

"I already do." You muttered, returning your attention to your plate with the same calm indifference you always exuded. But Wednesday caught the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—a weariness, perhaps, or a resignation you couldn’t quite mask.

Enid, oblivious as ever, turned her attention back to Wednesday. “Isn’t this great, Wens? With Y/N on our team, we’re totally going to win this year!”

Wednesday didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she studied you for a moment longer, her mind churning with thoughts she couldn’t fully articulate. Finally, she turned back to her own meal.

"We will see." She said, still feeling something unrecognizable. Whatever it was, she would not allow it to distract her. Not now, not tonight. Behind the greenhouse. After the sun falls. You had given her a directive, and she intended to follow it, not out of curiosity, of course, but because she refused to let you maintain the upper hand.

After the rest of the classes ended, Wednesday found herself in a disconcerting state of reflection. The day's events gnawed at her, though she maintained her usual stoic demeanor. Your words echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting, like the blade you so clearly wielded with mastery.

"You’re not worth wasting my time."

Though she would never admit it aloud, those words struck her. A part of her dismissed them—what could you possibly know of her worth? But another part, the one she rarely let surface, couldn’t help but dwell on the sting.

Wednesday Addams had faced monsters, both literal and metaphorical, yet here she was, feeling... unsettled. Not afraid. No, Wednesday Addams was never afraid. But the thought of meeting you, alone, made her feel something she couldn't entirely recognize.

She briefly considered informing Enid of her impending meeting with you. Not out of fear, of course. Fear was an emotion beneath her. It was a matter of logic, of ensuring someone knew her whereabouts. But as soon as the idea formed, she discarded it. No, involving Enid would complicate matters, and the thought of explaining herself to her overenthusiastic roommate was unbearable.

Instead, she opted for a more discreet confidant.

“You’re to keep an eye on the time,” she instructed Thing, her voice even but firm. “If I’m not back by ten, assume the worst.”

Thing’s fingers scrambled into a questioning gesture.

“Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “I am not afraid. Merely cautious.”

Thing’s tapping turned into a sarcastic drumroll, but Wednesday ignored him, brushing past to retrieve her coat.

The path to the greenhouse was empty, obviously no one would be out here at this time.

As she rounded the corner, she spotted you immediately. You were seated on the ground, your back against the glass wall of the greenhouse. A katana rested beside you, the blade gleaming faintly in the dimming light.

Did you summon it? Wednesday wondered.

You looked up as she approached, your gaze steady and unreadable. “You’re on time.”

Wednesday ignored the comment, her eyes flicking to the katana. “Are you finally going to show me?”

"Katana techniques aren’t something you can master by watching. It requires precision and patience, I know you fought some old wizard, but I highly doubt that would be enough."

Wednesday’s expression hardened. "That 'old wizard' was Crackstone."

“And?” Your tone was flat, unimpressed, as if the name meant nothing.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. What do I need to do first?”

You reached down and picked up the katana beside you, holding it out for her. Wednesday accepted the sword with both hands, one curling around the scabber and the other around the handle. It was heavier than she expected—not unmanageable, but noticeable. Still, she adjusted quickly, refusing to let any hesitation show.

She stood, focusing on the sword, attempting to summon a vision. She hoped for even a glimpse of your history, your purpose, your motives. Nothing. The blade remained silent in her hands, its secrets as tightly guarded as yours.

Her reverie was broken by your voice. “Do you know how to unsheathe it without losing your fingers?”

Wednesday met your gaze, her tone sharp. “Of course. Just because I haven’t fought with a katana doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of its basics.” She demonstrated, flawlessly unsheathing the sword with a precise motion.

For a moment, she paused, her gaze lingering on the blade. Its sharp edge felt almost hypnotic.

“Now sheathe it again,” you instructed.

Wednesday hesitated, the command catching her off guard. “I just took it out,” she muttered annoyed.

Still, she attempted to comply, but the process proved unexpectedly awkward. She struggled to align the blade with the scabbard, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy. She half-expected you to smirk or make a biting comment, but your expression remained impassive, devoid of mockery.

Instead, you conjured your own katana, the same one she had seen in the Nightshade Library, and unsheathed it with effortless grace. “Watch,” you said simply. With practiced ease, you demonstrated the technique for resheathing the sword, pushing the scabbard forward while maintaining balance.

Wednesday observed intently, her sharp mind immediately grasping the mechanics. “I see,” she murmured, attempting the motion again. This time, her execution was far smoother, and the blade slid into place with satisfying precision.

“Good,” you said, your voice still emotionless.

From there, the lesson progressed. You guided her through a series of foundational techniques, demonstrating precise footwork and the fluidity required to wield the katana effectively. Your movements were deliberate, almost mesmerizing in their precision, and Wednesday found herself silently admiring your mastery. She didn’t smile. She didn’t laugh. But she felt something.... something she felt while grave digging... is this what Enid called... "fun"?

Still, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give you the satisfaction of knowing she was... pleased by this... would you even care if you knew?

By the end, her muscles ached pleasantly, but her mind was sharper than ever. She sheathed the katana with practiced ease, turning to you as you prepared to leave.

“Here,” she said, holding out the weapon.

You took it, and as soon as it was in your hands, both katanas vanished into thin air. Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

As you turned to leave without any , she felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Wait.”

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder. “What is it?”

She struggled for a moment, the words eluding her. Finally, she asked, “Why did you agree to show me these techniques?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you looked at her with that same unreadable expression. “Goodnight, Wednesday,” you said, your voice softer than she expected.

You turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It wasn’t until you had disappeared into the shadows that she realized something—this was the first time you had used her name. And for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it mattered.

As Wednesday pushed open the door to her shared dorm, her eyes went to Enid sprawled across her bed as she animatedly whispered to Thing, who was perched on her pillow like her sidekick.

As she stepped further into the room, she felt Enid’s gaze snap to her. It tracked her every step, as though waiting for some kind of confirmation.

“What?” Wednesday snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Enid sat up, crossing her legs and hugging a pillow to her chest, a smug little smile spreading across her face. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone far too innocent to be genuine. “Absolutely nothing.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, peeling off her coat and hanging it neatly on its hook. “You’re staring at me."

Enid gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Staring? Me? No! I’m just... thinking."

"Thinking what, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Enid drawled, leaning forward with a grin that only grew wider with each passing second. “Maybe observing how you’ve been spending an unusual amount of time with a certain someone lately?”

Wednesday stiffened, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she adjusted the lace cuffs of her shirt. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Enid said with a giggle, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Choose your next words carefully, Enid.”

“What were you doing with Y/N?” Enid sat up straighter, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

Wednesday’s brow twitched. “That is none of your concern.”

“See, now you’re making it sound suspicious,” Enid teased, her grin widening. “Were you two, like, out in the woods doing something spooky? Summoning ghosts? Practicing dark magic? Or was it something more... romantic?”

Wednesday’s glare deepened. “Romantic?” she repeated, “Do you genuinely believe I would waste my time on such frivolity?”

“Well, I mean,” Enid said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “you do waste your time digging up graves"

Wednesday ignored her as she walked out to the balcony. She needed air. She needed quiet. She needed to expel whatever it was that Enid’s incessant prattling had stirred within her.

The cello waited in its usual spot.

Without hesitation, Wednesday settled into her chair, the bow fitting naturally into her hand. She began to play.

The bartender wiped down the counter with practiced ease. His face was friendly, his demeanor warm as he smiled at the hooded girl sitting before him.

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, his tone easy and warm. “Sometimes we need some alone time away from family.”

The customer remained silent, her head tilted downward.

As Wednesday’s fingers danced over the cello strings, her mind drifted. She hadn’t meant to think of you, but it was impossible not to. The memory of your eyes, a depth that hid so much.

Why did you haunt her so? There was a quiet pain in your gaze, a barrier that dared anyone to come closer. What had happened to you? What had made you so guarded, so indifferent to the world?

The bartender smiled as he wiped a glass, his voice light. “You know, I love my family too. Even when they drive me insane.” He chuckled, setting the glass down. “Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Wednesday’s music swelled again, the melody turning wistful. How could she know more about you? Was it even possible?

The bartender glanced around the empty bar, shrugging. “It’s pretty quiet here this time of night. Honestly, I feel more like I’m on guard duty than actually working. Not that I’m complaining—it’s nice to have a slow shift every now and then.”

Wednesday’s bow trembled slightly, though her playing remained flawless. Her thoughts shifted, unwillingly, to you again. She couldn’t shake the questions that gnawed at her. Your precision, your coldness, the way you had spoken to her and yet spared her just enough... that made her understand, there was more to you than you allowed anyone to see.

The bartender leaned closer, his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, no, I get it totally. We all make mistakes. We’re human at the end of the day.”

The customer let out a low chuckle that seemed to echo unnaturally in the small space. It sent an involuntary shiver down the bartender’s spine.

“Are you?” the customer asked, her voice smooth yet chilling.

The bartender blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

The customer slid a card across the counter. His breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on it.

“Are you human?” she repeated, her tone dangerously calm.

As the final note hung in the air, fading into the night, she exhaled slowly, setting the bow down with measured care. The music hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. The unease was still there, coiled in her chest, lingering like a shadow that refused to leave.

Still, one thing was clear. Whatever this was, whatever you were, it wasn’t over.

Finally, she set the cello aside, her movements slower than usual, weighed down by an exhaustion she couldn’t name.

When sleep finally claimed her, it brought something.

Fire. It was everywhere.

And Wednesday was standing right where she fought Crackstone last year.

Enid’s scream, filled with desperation. “Y/N, no!”

The flames seemed to dance around you, as if you were their master rather than their victim. For a moment, you turned your gaze toward her, your eyes, darker... souless.. and then you nodded at Wednesday... as if.. thanking her.

"I know what I have to do now." you said.

The scene shattered like glass, and Wednesday jolted awake, her chest heaving as she sat up in bed. The room was still dark, the faint light of dawn just beginning to creep through the window.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as she struggled to steady her breathing. Dreams were not foreign to her, but this... this was different. It had felt too vivid, too real.

Was it a vision? No. Her visions came with a sharp, distinct pain, an undeniable clarity that marked them as something more than mere dreams. But this... it was murky, fragmented, like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

She exhaled quietly, watching as the darkness outside softened with the rising sun. What were you? That question gnawed at her, more relentless than any puzzle she’d faced before. You didn’t fit neatly into any category of person she’d encountered. Why did her mind seem so determined to orbit around you?

Wednesday despised the thought of being consumed by anyone or anything, yet here she was, watching the sun rise while her thoughts were plagued by you.

She rose from her bed without making a sound and slipped into her black uniform.

Enid stirred in her bed, her sleepy form stretching lazily beneath her colorful blankets.

“Morning, Wends,” she mumbled.

Wednesday grabbed her coat and headed for the door without sparing her roommate a glance. The door clicked shut behind her before Enid could say anything more.

By the time she reached the quad, the space was still empty. Most students were still tucked away in their dorms, waiting for the breakfast bell to draw them out.

But her eyes found you.

You were sitting beneath a large tree at the far end of the quad, your back against the trunk, your eyes were closed, your features relaxed in a way she had never seen before. You seemed... at peace? It was unsettling to see you like this, so different from the guarded, vigilant person she’d encountered before. This version of you felt unfamiliar, almost vulnerable.

For a moment, she hesitated, her boots rooted to the ground as she watched you from afar. Why was she hesitating? Wednesday Addams didn’t hesitate. She was decisive, certain, unflinching. Yet here she was, caught in some inexplicable limbo. It infuriated her.

Finally, she forced herself to step forward. Each step felt heavier than it should, as though an invisible force was pulling her back. By the time she was only a few steps away from you, your eyes opened.

You looked directly at her.

Wednesday froze. The intensity of your gaze was unsettling, not because it was intimidating, but because it was so direct, so unflinching. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching taut between you.

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice low and even.

Wednesday blinked, her composure snapping back into place like a well-worn mask. “I could ask you the same question.”

You regarded her for a moment, then shifted slightly against the tree. “Resting,” you said simply. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “And I suppose you decided that lying on cold earth was preferable to staying in your dorm?”

You shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

Wednesday didn’t have a retort for that. She understood the value of silence more than anyone.

You studied her now, and she hated the way it made her feel. Like you were seeing something she hadn’t meant to show. “You don’t seem like the morning exercise type,” you finally said.

“I woke up early,” was all Wednesday offered.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t push. You didn’t even invite her to sit, which was something she had somehow expected.

She frowned at herself. Why did she expect that? You weren’t the kind of person who invited anyone to sit beside you, and Wednesday certainly wasn’t someone you would extend such an offer to. She wasn’t special in your eyes, nor should she be.

The realization irritated her more than it should have.

The silence between you stretched, not awkward but Wednesday won't call it comfortable either. “Do you want to spar today?” she asked.

You blinked at her, then nodded.

She almost wished you had asked why. Maybe then she could figure out the answer herself.

Her mind drifted back to the dream. You had always been dark, just like her. But in the dream, it was different. You were worse. Your eyes weren’t yours.

She exhaled, not realizing she had until the sound broke the quiet.

You noticed immediately, your brow furrowing as you turned back to her.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, your tone cautious.

Wednesday straightened, her mind scrambling for a response. She couldn’t tell you about the dream, not yet. She needed more time to understand it herself. Instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Poe Cup.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “What about it?”

“Since you and I are on the same team, I thought you should know more about it,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “It’s a simple boat race that lacks bound rules to keep the students from harming each other. That’s all I need to know. Works fine for me.”

Wednesday smirked, a small, fleeting expression that you might have missed if you hadn’t been paying attention. You had no idea about the costumes. The mandatory, humiliating black cat ensemble that had tortured her the first time she’d participated. It was only fair that you endured the same indignity. She decided then and there not to tell you about it. Let it be a surprise.

The quad was beginning to fill now, “You should join me for breakfast.”

You raised a brow at her.

She added, “Enid will drag you there anyway. It will save you the effort.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, following her as the two of you made your way toward the dining hall.

And Wednesday, for reasons she refused to name, felt a little more at ease.

Wednesday had expected you to leave.

As she sat on the bench, you settled across from her, your posture as composed as ever, shoulders relaxed but gaze sharp, always aware. She observed you from the corner of her eye, waiting for that moment where you'd inevitably get up, bored of the company. But you didn’t move.

You stayed.

That was new.

"Oh my god!" Enid's half yell pulled Wednesday from her thoughts.

“You’re sitting here willingly,” Enid launched herself to the seat beside you, grinning wide as she nudged your arm. “By yourself. No threats, no bribery, no blackmail—at least, I don’t think Wednesday blackmailed you. That’s progress, right?”

You merely hummed, not confirming nor denying anything.

Enid let out a dramatic gasp. “That was almost a response. Oh, we are making so much progress.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Must you be so insufferable this early in every morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Enid shot back, flashing her a grin before turning her attention back to you. “You should sit with us more often. Now that we are a team!"

Before you could respond—not that you looked like you were going to—another voice cut in.

Bianca.

“So this is where the brooding duo gathers now?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Enid turned to her, smirking. “Oh, come on, B. You’re just mad because Y/N’s on my team. You’re so screwed.”

Wednesday caught the way Bianca’s eyes narrowed, assessing. You, however, didn’t even acknowledge her. Not a glance. Not a shift in posture. Nothing. Bianca didn’t seem sure whether to be annoyed or impressed.

“Huh,” she muttered, tilting her head. “Guess it’ll be fun to have a challenge for once.”

Wednesday smirked, her voice dry as she leaned forward just slightly. “And lose badly again?”

Bianca shot her a glare, but before she could retort, another voice joined the conversation.

Xavier.

“Uh… morning,” Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to you, but you still didn’t acknowledge him. He swallowed. “Mind if I join?”

“You’re asking that after joining in without permission,” Wednesday said flatly.

Xavier hesitated, then sat beside Bianca, opposite Enid. He looked like he wanted to say something to you but wisely decided against it.

Understandable. He was still shaken after whatever had happened during his last encounter with you.

Then came Eugene, who looked like he regretted his decision the moment he saw how crowded it had become—especially when his eyes landed on you.

He hesitated, clearly debating whether he should turn back. He probably would have, had Enid not noticed him first.

“Eugene!” she called out, “Come sit!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath before reluctantly shuffling over.

And to make matters worse—for him, at least—the only available seat was right beside Wednesday. Which, unfortunately, placed him directly across from you. He slid into the empty spot, making sure to position himself as far from you as possible.

Trying to lighten the mood, Xavier leaned forward, his attention shifting to you.

“So, Y/N,” he started, flashing a small grin. “We barely know anything about you. What’s your deal? Hobbies? Interests? Are you into art? Music?”

You said nothing.

Xavier tried again. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you to loosen up a little.”

Silence.

Wednesday saw it then—the faintest flicker of amusement in your eyes, but it was at Xavier’s expense. You weren’t entertained by his charm. You were entertained by his failure.

Enid snickered. “Damn, Xavier, she hates you.”

Xavier groaned, throwing his hands up. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“More like failing to be friendly.” Bianca corrected, smirking.

Wednesday scowled. She didn’t like this. The way Xavier was blatantly trying to get your attention, the way he was—pathetically—trying to get a reaction out of you. And she especially didn’t like that, for a second, you looked... entertained.

Before she could dwell on it further, Yoko arrived, sliding onto the bench with her usual laid-back energy. “Wow,” she remarked, surveying the table. “This is a weird mix of people.”

Wednesday half expected you to get up and leave, to remove yourself from the growing number of people surrounding you. But you didn’t.

You remained where you were, though your shoulders tensed slightly, and there was a subtle shift in your expression. You weren’t uncomfortable. You weren’t guarded.

But here, among all these people, you seemed slightly irritated, but human.

And for some reason, that made her feel something she couldn’t quite place

Wednesday felt it all, the way she always seemed to end up beside you—walking through the halls, settling into her seat during class.

She told herself it was nothing. A strategic choice, you were an anomaly, and she was merely studying you, trying to make sense of that dream, trying to make sense of you.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t ask why she was beside you between classes, why she sat near you when she had the chance, why she existed in your orbit like it was simply the way things were meant to be.

And Wednesday… Wednesday felt something almost like satisfaction in that. She wasn't sure why she felt… privileged.

It wasn’t as though you had declared her presence welcome, nor did you ever seek it out. You simply tolerated it. And somehow, that felt like enough. She had seen how you interacted—or rather, how you didn’t interact—with others. You kept your distance. You tolerated Enid. But beyond that, you were an island. Unreachable.

So why was she the exception?

The thought was infuriating. She didn’t like questions without answers.

And even in the dull monotony of school, she felt it, you never let your guard down entirely.

Except for one moment.

The fencing class.

She had been looking forward to it. She had been looking forward to you.

And you didn’t disappoint.

Wednesday had challenged you again. And, as expected, she lost. But this time, it was different. This time, she fought harder, adapted quicker. This time, she made you work for your victory.

And this time, she swore she saw something new in your expression—a flicker of exertion, a moment where you had to focus just a little harder.

She was getting better. And that meant something.

For once, she wasn’t entirely bitter about the loss.

By the time the final bell rang and students were retreating to their dorms, she found herself once again at your side. Neither of you spoke at first.

She felt a strange tightness in her chest, something akin to anticipation. It was an irritating, foreign sensation.

She cleared her throat. “I intend to continue our training this evening.”

You hummed.

That was it. Just a hum.

Wednesday frowned. “Is that a yes?”

You didn’t glance at her. “Maybe.”

She exhaled sharply. “I dislike uncertainty.”

You shrugged. “Then that’s your problem.”

She bristled. You had a talent for being insufferable. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself anticipating the evening regardless.

You reached your dorm, unlocking the door and stepping inside without another word.

You didn’t invite her in.

She hadn’t expected you to.

But she didn’t leave immediately either.

Her eyes flickered over your room, drinking in the details—or rather, the lack of them.

It was empty.

Not physically, of course. The furniture was there, the walls intact. But there was nothing personal. No photographs, no decorations, no trinkets that suggested someone actually lived here.

It was cold, soulless.

Just like you.

Like you weren’t meant to stay.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped back to you just in time to see you shrug off your blazer, revealing the toned muscles underneath.

That was—

She swallowed, fingers twitching at her sides.

You were strong. She had already known that, felt it in every spar, every clash of weapons. But seeing it like this, under normal lighting, without the rush of battle—

It was different.

She forced herself to look away, scanning the rest of the room instead. That’s when she noticed the bed. Singular.

“You don’t have a roommate?” she asked.

You barely glanced at her. “Wasn’t safe.”

Before she could question further, you reached for the door.

And then—

Slam.

No goodbye. No parting glance. Just the door shutting in her face.

She should have been angry. She should have been irritated at the sheer audacity of you brushing her off so effortlessly.

Instead, she was intrigued.

Again.

Not safe?

The Poe Cup was fast approaching. Preparation was necessary, and while Enid was all too excited about the event, Wednesday was far more interested in ensuring Bianca suffered another humiliating loss.

Her mind should have been occupied with tactics, strategies—ways to dismantle the Siren’s chances at victory.

Instead, it was occupied with you.

No matter how many times she tried to redirect her thoughts, they circled back to you.

Wednesday’s grip tightened around the paintbrush. This was unacceptable.

She had no reason to be thinking about you right now, yet you had embedded yourself into the crevices of her mind, refusing to be dislodged. Your movements, your words—or lack thereof—haunted her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

It was infuriating.

Why were you always so quiet? Why did you refuse to let anyone in? And why did Wednesday want to be the exception?

The brush in her hand stopped mid-stroke.

A slow, creeping sense of realization settled over her.

She did.

She wanted to be the exception.

The thought was both disturbing and—

“Wow,” Enid said suddenly, snapping Wednesday from her thoughts. “You’ve been at that same spot for like, five minutes.”

Wednesday blinked, turning her head slightly. Enid was watching her, "You're all distracted and moody, well, more moody than usual. And you still haven't come up with a dozen of ways to beat Bianca so that says alot."

Wednesday tightened the rope harder than necessary, the material digging into her palms. "Perhaps you should concern yourself with decorating the boat and leave my thoughts alone."

Enid gasped dramatically. "So you admit you’re thinking about something else?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

There was a beat of silence before Enid's tone shifted, becoming far too smug for Wednesday’s liking. "So, what is it? What did she do? Did she say something? Did she look at you in a way that made your little goth heart go all boom boom—?"

"Enid." Wednesday’s voice was sharp, and for a moment, it seemed like Enid might actually drop it.

She didn’t. "Face it, Wednesday. You’re obsessed."

Wednesday stiffened.

The words hit closer than they should have.

Because the truth was, she was obsessed.

With figuring you out.

With understanding why you were the way you were.

Why you made her feel—

No.

She wouldn’t entertain that thought.

Instead, she inhaled sharply and said, "If I did want to learn more about someone, how would I do it?"

Enid blinked.

"You’re seriously asking me this?"

Wednesday rolled her eyes.

Enid grinned. "Well, you could just stalk them, but let’s be real, we both know that’s not going to work with her. She’s, like, the most un-stalkable person I’ve ever seen. Perhaps you should umm.. how would you say it 'Try courting her.' "

Wednesday blinked.

“What?”

“You know, court her,” Enid said, beaming. “Spend time with her, get to know her more. Talk with her. Maybe even—” she wiggled her eyebrows “—text her at night.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Why at night?”

“Because,” Enid said, “that’s usually when people let their guard down.”

Wednesday stared at her, utterly still. This was absurd. Completely absurd. And yet… A horrifying thought took root in her mind. Would it work?

Wednesday tightened her grip on the rope.

She was going to kill Enid Sinclair.

Wednesday was finally done coloring their boat. Now her mind was finally where it should be—on strategy, on victory, on humiliating Bianca once again.

And then you arrived.

You carried the boat paddles, your expression unreadable as always.

Wednesday set her brush down, folding her arms as she eyed you. You placed the paddles beside her without a word.

“Let me guess. Enid forced you.”

“I don’t get forced to do things.”

Wednesday raised a skeptical brow. “So you willingly volunteered to help paint these?”

A beat of silence. Then, a flat, “No.”

Wednesday almost smirked. Almost.

You sighed as if resigning yourself to your fate, rolling up your sleeves. “Let’s get this over with.”

Wednesday wordlessly handed you a brush, watching as you dipped it into the paint. You worked with smooth, deliberate strokes, methodical in your approach. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft shh-shh of bristles against wood.

“You handle a brush like you handle a sword,” she said eventually.

You didn’t look at her. “And how is that?”

“Precise. Controlled.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then, “So do you.”

Wednesday paused mid-stroke.

It was such a simple remark, devoid of any weight or hidden meaning, but for some reason, it lodged itself into her thoughts like a splinter.

She turned slightly to glance at you, only to find you focused entirely on your task. As if the words had been nothing more than an observation.

Her mind was racing, but she refused to let it show. It was infuriating how easily you unsettled her, how effortlessly you took over her thoughts.

This was not supposed to happen.

And yet, it was.

She needed to say something—anything—to break the tension creeping into her chest.

“Why do you never ask questions?”

You paused mid-stroke, finally glancing at her. “What?”

Wednesday met your gaze. “You never ask anything. Never pry. Why?”

You studied her for a moment before looking away. “I don’t see the point.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “Curiosity is a natural human instinct.”

“I’ve never been particularly human.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched again. That statement—it was too familiar. Too close to something she would say.

Before she could think of a response, footsteps approached again, breaking the moment entirely.

Enid and Yoko had arrived.

“So, are we finally making a battle plan, or are we just winging it?”

Wednesday exhaled slowly, “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet. “We’re discussing strategy.”

Enid perked up. “Good, because I just got some inside info—Bianca’s adding shields to her boat this year. That means last year’s spear trick won’t work.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. The race was tomorrow, and she had yet to come up with an alternative strategy.

She had been too—

Distracted.

Enid leaned over the boat, frowning. “We need something else.”

Enid and Yoko began listing potential alternatives, but every suggestion was quickly met with a countermeasure that Bianca had likely already accounted for.

Nothing felt right.

Nothing seemed enough.

And then—

“Your focus is misplaced.” you spoke.

All three of them turned to you.

You remained seated, still painting, still looking entirely uninterested in the conversation.

“You’re too fixated on Bianca,” you continued. “There are other teams in this race. You’re underestimating them.”

Enid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Focus on them,” you said simply.

Enid frowned. “And Bianca?”

“Leave taking Bianca’s boat down to me.” you said as you finished the last stroke of paint on the paddle.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “And what guarantee do we have that you can take her down? The water is her field.”

Your gaze met hers.

Emotionless. And Wednesday can see it... the darkness building in your eyes.

“I don’t fail.”

A slow smirk curled at the edges of Wednesday’s lips.

Because suddenly—

Suddenly, she knew exactly how they were going to win.

Wednesday adjusted the black cat ears on her head with all the enthusiasm of someone fastening a noose around their own neck.

This was humiliating. She loathed every aspect of it. But, she supposed, she loathed losing more.

With a sigh, she pulled on the last piece of the outfit and stepped out of the Black Cat’s tent.

And there you were.

Standing a short distance away, arms crossed, staring at Enid and Yoko like they had personally insulted your ancestors.

Your expression was twisted into something resembling mild horror as you looked them up and down. Almost as if you felt her presence, your eyes flicked over to her.

And then—

Disgust.

Your face didn’t change much, but Wednesday caught the subtle narrowing of your eyes, the barely-there curl of your lip.

She had seen this expression on you before—when you were unimpressed, when you found something utterly beneath your standards.

And now you were looking at her like that.

Wednesday was already plotting different ways to murder Enid for putting her in this position.

“I’m not wearing that.” you said.

“Oh, what?” Enid gasped. “You didn’t know?” She turned to Wednesday, hands on her hips. “Wednesday didn’t tell you? This is compulsory.”

You turned to her, a glare so sharp it could cut steel.

She held your glare, unwavering, refusing to be intimidated by whatever silent death threat you were sending her way.

But—strangely—her pulse quickened.

Not out of fear.

Out of something far worse.

Something she refused to name.

Without another word, you grabbed one of the dreadful uniforms from the pile and disappeared into the changing tent.

The second you were gone, Enid turned to Wednesday, eyes practically gleaming.

“This is kinda romantic,” she mused.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “What part of this is remotely romantic?”

"The way you two had a telepathic deathmatch to see who comes out on top right now."

Wednesday ignored her and crossed her arms, waiting.

The minutes stretched, and with each passing second, an odd anticipation settled in her chest.

The tent flap opened and you stepped out.

Her mind stuttered.

There you stood, in the same ridiculous, skintight, fur-trimmed uniform as the rest of them.

Except—

Somehow, on you, it wasn’t ridiculous at all.

The tight fabric outlined every curve, every muscle. The high collar made your shoulders seem sharper, your stance more imposing. And somehow, somehow, the absurd cat ears didn’t make you look silly. They made you look…

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

Absolutely not.

She refused to acknowledge whatever this was.

You had the same unimpressed, vaguely murderous expression you always did, but now it was directed at Enid.

“Try to hug me and I’ll gut you.”

Enid, unbothered, clasped her hands together. “Awww, you’re so cute when you threaten me.”

Wednesday barely heard them.

She was too focused on regaining her composure.

Luckily, Enid was already moving on. “So this is it. You ready?" she asked.

You nodded and strode toward the competition’s starting line. Wednesday followed a moment later, trying very hard to bury whatever the hell had just happened to her brain.

Wednesday gripped her oar with steady fingers, her mind already calculating all the different outcomes, all the scenarios.

Enid sat in the front of their sleek black boat, all grins and bubbling excitement, her fingers twitching with the urge to start rowing before Weems even gave the signal. Yoko was just behind her. Then there was herself, positioned in the middle, strategically placed for control, for observation.

And finally—

You.

Right behind her.

The final and most unpredictable element of this entire race.

She had spent so much time observing you, studying you, trying to untangle the mystery of who you were. And now, here you were, closer than ever, a mere breath away from her.

It made something restless twist inside her.

To their right sat the Amontillados, Xavier's team, who was currently staring at the their boat with open amusement. No—

Not at the boat.

At you.

Wednesday stiffened as Xavier leaned forward, his mouth already curving into that insufferable smirk.

“Wow,” he mused, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Never thought I’d see you in something like that. Gotta say, it’s a look.”

Wednesday’s grip on her oar tightened.

She knew Xavier well enough to recognize that tone, that smug attempt at charm. He tried it on herself last year. He was flirting. With you.

Wednesday felt something snap. A cold, sharp irritation slithered through her chest. She resisted the urge to throw him overboard.

Your reaction, as always, was infuriatingly unreadable. You didn’t acknowledge Xavier, didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink and Xavier chuckled, clearly amused.

She would drown him.

She would personally drag him to the bottom of the lake and drown him.

Before she could act on the impulse, the sound of Principal Weems clearing her throat brought her back.

“The annual Poe Cup is a tradition that has stood since the founding of Nevermore Academy,” Weems began, her voice carrying across the water. “It is a test of teamwork, strategy, and endurance.”

Wednesday resisted the urge to scoff.

Weems continued, glancing between the competing boats. “As always, the rules are simple. Each team must paddle across Raven’s Island, retrieve their team flag, and return to the starting line without being sunk. First team across with their flag—wins.”

Weems lifted the revolver high.

“Let the best team win.”

The second the gunshot rang through the air, the boats shot forward, Bianca’s team took the lead almost immediately, her boat gliding through the water with practiced ease, her team moving in perfect sync with her commands.

Wednesday focused. Bianca wasn’t their immediate concern.

Not yet.

Enid paddled furiously at the front, Yoko, right behind her, was more controlled, keeping pace with Wednesday’s calculated movements.

And at the very back, you were eerily calm as you paddled.

Silent.

Watching.

It was infuriating how unfazed you looked while the rest of them exerted themselves, muscles burning as they fought against the current.

But Wednesday had no time to dwell on it.

Not when she caught movement to her left.

Wednesday snapped her head toward them.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat was creeping up at an angle, dangerously close, their team moving with clear intent. And then she saw it—

A glint of metal.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat jerked to the side, revealing the hidden mechanism at their center.

A massive swinging axe, And it was falling. Right toward them.

A normal person might have panicked.

Enid let out a startled noise, already moving instinctively to the side—

But before the axe could make contact—

It should have split their boat in half.

But it didn’t.

Wednesday had barely registered the movement before she saw it.

You.

Your sword was there.

Your conjured katana, held in one hand with a casual ease, intercepting the massive axe mid-swing.

The force alone should have sent you staggering—should have sent you reeling back—but you stood firm. Your grip never wavered, the katana steady as it held the axe at bay.

Wednesday felt something crawl up her spine.

Admiration? Fascination? Something else? There wasn’t time to dissect it.

She had to move. Now.

With the axe momentarily stalled, Wednesday yanked at the mechanism near her foot—a concealed lever.

The Black Cats’ trap sprang into action.

A weighted net shot out from the side of their boat as it latched onto three of the Pit and the Pendulum’s oars, entangling them, causing them to lose their balance. Their boat wobbled dangerously and then, they tipped.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She wasn't the one to revel in the small victory. Neither were you.

Because the race wasn’t over yet.

Ahead, Bianca’s boat surged forward, sleek and unhindered, cutting through the water like a blade. She had taken an early lead, and despite Wednesday’s best efforts to focus, irritation prickled at the back of her mind.

Not because Bianca was winning.

But because her own mind—her own cursed thoughts—kept slipping back to the girl at the rear of their boat who was silent as ever.

Bianca’s team had reached the island first.

Wednesday grit her teeth, adjusting her grip on the oar. Each stroke sent a sharp pull through her muscles, the effort burning in her arms, but she refused to relent.

Enid panted in front of her, “We’re almost there!”

Yoko, ever composed, nodded. “Push harder. We need to close the gap.”

Bianca’s team had already beached their boat, Bianca going for the flag while the rest stayed behind to defend the boat against any sabotage.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate.

The moment their boat scraped against the shore, she jumped out, boots sinking into the wet sand. She knew the way.

She had walked this ground before.

But so had Bianca. She moved quickly, heart pounding not from exertion, but from the quiet thrill of the challenge. When she reached their flags Bianca was already taking her's. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

Bianca said running past her, “Try not to take a cat nap this time, Addams.”

“I could take one and still win," Wednesday said yanking their flag off.

As soon as she returned back to the shoreline, she spotted her team already waiting in the boat. Enid was already waving frantically from the boat.

“Hurry!” she yelled. “They’re getting ready to launch!”

Wednesday barely slowed as she reached the water’s edge. The boat rocked as she jumped in, but her balance remained steady. She shoved the flag into the side compartment before gripping her oar.

They were back on the water.

And Bianca was still ahead.

The race was now in its most critical moment. The return.

Bianca’s boat cut through the waves, her team paddling with brutal efficiency. But then— Bianca’s team made their move.

Wednesday saw it before the Amontillados did.

Dark shapes slithered beneath the water, just barely visible beneath the surface. Sirens.

Wednesday watched as Xavier’s boat lurch violently.

His teammates flailed, oars slipping from their grasp as hands dragged against their boat, pulling them off course.

The Amontillados didn’t stand a chance.

Xavier and his team barely had time to react before the boat tipped, sending them plunging into the lake.

“Bianca with her damn sirens again,” Yoko muttered. “She took out the Amontillados. We’re next, get ready!”

“I will cut their arms off if they touch this boat.” Your voice was even, void of emotion. “They know that,” you continued, “So they won’t. They probably have some other strategy to take us down.”

Wednesday believed you.

She wasn’t sure if the sirens feared you because of what you could do, or because they had seen you do it before.

They rowed and they rowed.

The finish line loomed ahead, the cheers from the shore swallowed by the sound of paddles striking the water and the waves.

Bianca’s boat was ahead, but not by much. The Black Cats were closing in, their speed a perfect, deadly rhythm, Wednesday just needs to slow it down. She got ready, this was her time, her hand tightened around the crossbow, the one you had given her, or more accurately, conjured for her. It was light, too light, yet it fit in her hands as if it had always been meant for her.

She positioned herself, lifting the crossbow, lining up the shot. One bolt. Just one hole in that boat and the black cats are winning this.

She exhaled, steadying her fingers on the trigger—

Then froze.

A sound curled through the air, slipping into her mind like a wisp of fog curling around her thoughts. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful.

It was beautiful.

Her aim faltered.

Her vision blurred at the edges.

Bianca.

Bianca was singing.

Wednesday clenched her jaw, forcing her grip to stay firm, her finger pressing against the trigger. She blinked, forcing focus, forcing precision—Then fired.

The bolt sliced through the air, cutting towards its target. And then....

Then it missed. No, it didn't miss, it went through Bianca's boat, or more like.. the fake projection of the boat Bianca created in her vision, just behind their actual boat.

Wednesday gritted her teeth. Bianca’s smirk was sharp, knowing.

Then the real attack began.

The siren’s song grew louder, crashing over them like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just in her head anymore—it was in the air, vibrating in her skull, pressing against her ribs.

“Shit—” Yoko’s voice was strangled as she tore her hands from the oar, slamming them over her ears.

Enid whimpered, her claws scraping against the boat’s side as she did the same.

The song grew stronger, insidious. Not just a suggestion, but a command.

Jump.

The word coiled around them like a serpent tightening its grip.

Wednesday felt it seep into her thoughts, her fingers twitching at the oar. Her arms burned as she struggled to paddle alone, the boat swaying against the current.

Bianca’s gaze locked onto hers, triumph in every line of her expression.

She had won. She knew it. And so did Wednesday.

The edges of her vision darkened, the melody still tugging, pulling, commanding, and then—

Bianca’s face twisted. Her smirk faltered.

The song stopped.

A scream.

Multiple screams.

Wednesday knew screams.

She had heard them before—raw, agonized, desperate cries that filled the halls of her mind like a sweet melody.

But this—

This was different.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was terror.

Pure, unfiltered terror.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca’s boat.

Bianca’s team was writhing, clawing at themselves, their mouths open in bloodcurdling shrieks. Their fingers tore at their skin, their bodies convulsing as if set ablaze by something unseen.

One of them lurched forward, eyes wide in horror as he let out a strangled gasp—

Then flung himself into the water.

Then another.

And another.

Bianca was the only one left.

And she was shaking.

Slowly, she turned looking at their boat but her eyes weren’t on Wednesday anymore.

They were looking behind her.

Enid and Yoko turned first.

And then Wednesday followed.

You weren’t there.

The space where you had been sitting was empty. They immediately turned back, looking at Bianca.

Bianca’s expression was frozen in something Wednesday had never seen on her before.

Fear.

Not apprehension.

Not wariness.

True, genuine fear.

Then Wednesday saw why.

You stood on Bianca’s boat.

No sound, no splash, no indication of movement. One moment you had been with them. The next, you were standing before Bianca, staring at her as if.., as if you were the bringer of death itself.

Then, with a flicker of motion so quick it was almost imperceptible—

Your katana materialized in your hand.

A sharp whistle of air as the blade cut through space—

Bianca flinched, her arms flying up in reflex, but the strike never touched her.

Instead—

A sharp crack echoed through the water.

A split second later, Bianca’s boat lurched violently.

A clean, perfect slash—

Straight through the hull.

The boat split in two, water rushing in, swallowing it whole.

Bianca barely had time to react before she was sinking, her body hitting the water with a sharp splash.

Wednesday steadied her breath.

Her fingers curled around the oar, her grip firm.

She turned back.

And there you were. Sitting in your seat.

As if you had never left. As if nothing had happened.

“Start rowing.” Your voice was emotionless, cold. Commanding.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched against the wood. She had never been one to follow orders. But she didn’t hesitate to follow this.

Part 4

[End note: Yeah, that took me too much time to even copy paste from doc to here lol. Comment how was it]

[Also comment if u wanna be added to the taglist]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk@mally-ka@protozoario@machyishere@freakshow2501@101rizzlrr @casbrawel @jinxslapdog @just-zy @gray-cheese @hellenheaven @cheerlanader@pikachooo3 @jennaswifey

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rafecameronsboy · 2 months ago

Text

Belonging to Rafe Pt.1

rafe cameron x male reader

genre: smut

You, being Topper’s little brother, had always been at the top of Rafe’s list. You never knew it of course but he’d never thought he’d ever fuck a guy but if he was going to than he’d go for you. He loved how thin and petite you were–a perfect little twink that Rafe would love to open up.

Rafe decided to go for it the night of your eighteenth birthday. He noticed that other guys, ones who were actually out, had their sights set on you but Rafe wasn’t about to let a thing happen there because you belonged to him, you just didn’t know it yet.

The minute another guy even thought of approaching you–and they’d look over to see Rafe Cameron giving them a warning glare. Nobody was about to risk fucking with Rafe and he knew it.

You were to be his–and he wanted them to know it. What had convinced Rafe to go for it was the fact that he ached to be the first to ever be inside the virginal Thornton. He knew that Topper wouldn’t be okay with it. In fact, there was one time that Rafe had looked at you in a way that caused Topper to feel concerned and he warned Rafe. I know you don’t bat for the other team–or you never have that I’m aware of–but stay the hell away from my little brother. He’s innocent. Rafe never did like being told what to do–so he knew he was going to be inside you at some point or another.

“Happy birthday” Rafe said to you when he got you alone in the kitchen and handed over his present. “I picked it out myself.”

You, always having a crush on the older boy, blushed and smiled as you picked at the wrapper. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Rafe.”

“I did, baby” Rafe grinned. “You’ve got to be taken care of.”

You felt confused by Rafe’s wording but shook it off and smiled before tearing off the paper. As you stared in the box–you weren’t sure if it was what you thought it was. It couldn’t be. You kept trying to convince yourself because there was no explanation as to why Rafe would get you such a thing. You looked up at Rafe. “What am I looking at–”

“A douche” Rafe said as he leaned back on the counter. “You know so you can be clean when you take a guy inside you.”

So, he really did get me that. Your eyes widened at that. You felt a little embarrassed as if you were being put on display. “Why–why would you get me this?”

“Because I like what’s mine to be clean” Rafe said as he pulled you hard against him. There was fear in your eyes because there was a part of you that believed it to be a joke, and you didn’t want to fall for it.

“Rafe—”

“Don’t be scared” Rafe whispered. “I want you and you’ve always had a little crush on me–I mean it’s been obvious since forever, but I’ve got to be in you.”

He leaned down and captured your lips with his own and he picked you up, placing you on the counter. Your tongue worked with his, but it was clear that you had no fucking idea what to do–which seemed to only turn Rafe on even more. The fact that you were so confused was so hot because Rafe would be the one to teach you.

“Rafe” You moaned as Rafe moved his lips down to suck on your neck. “What if–what if Topper walks in on us like this?”

Rafe chuckled. “Good point, baby.” He didn’t want Topper to try putting a stop to it. He picked you up and grinned. “To your room.”

It was clear that you were hesitant but there was no way Rafe was risking it by staying in the kitchen–he needed to be deep inside you and he needed it pronto. He had to make you his–and his only.

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #bisexual rafe cameron #rafe cameron x male reader #male reader #drew starkey #bisexual

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wolfsclothing6 · 3 months ago

Note

I would love to buy a skinsuit. I am a total geek and scrawny in college. I would love a skinsuit that can wear to show off my strength. One with big muscles. Any way you can help me out. Only problem is I have to work outside mowing and other yard work to pay it off. Hope the heat stays low so I don't get stuck. It is supposed to be really hot in a few days.

"Big Man on Campus"

Day 1 – Order Confirmed!

I finally did it. I ordered my first MorphoSkin Deluxe Muscle Form! No more scrawny arms, no more awkward frame—I’m going to be huge. I’ve always been the geeky guy, the one who barely fills out a hoodie, the one people overlook. But with this? I’ll be massive. Broad shoulders, thick chest, arms that stretch out my sleeves—just imagining it makes my heart race.

There’s only one little problem: money.

These things aren’t cheap, and I had to take on extra work mowing lawns and doing yard work to afford it. It’s been hot as hell lately, but I should be okay as long as I don’t overheat. I read somewhere that too much heat can make the suit… stick. Probably just a scare tactic, right?

Day 4 – Delivery Arrived!

It’s here. I opened the package like a kid on Christmas, and there it was: my new body.

The suit is everything I imagined—thick, veiny arms, a massive chest, and abs that look like they were carved out of stone. The inside of the suit feels weirdly cool and smooth, almost alive. I barely skimmed the instructions (who reads those?), then stripped down and stepped in.

The change was instant.

My legs stretched taller, my thighs grew thick and powerful, my stomach hardened into a tight six-pack. Pulling my arms into place, I flexed—veins popped under the surface, biceps bulged, and my hands were huge, rough, strong.

Then came the final piece—the face. I pulled it over, felt a sharp tingle down my spine, and then…

My voice rumbled deep from my chest. My reflection was perfect. I clenched my fists, feeling the sheer power in my arms. My t-shirt stretched tight over my massive shoulders, and my jeans felt one squat away from tearing.

This was insane.

Day 6 – Work Day

I had to work a double shift mowing lawns today, but honestly? I was excited. I wanted to see how this body performed.

And man, did it deliver.

I powered through yard after yard, barely breaking a sweat. My muscles thrived under the work—each push of the mower, each lift of a bag of mulch, it all felt effortless. People actually noticed me for once. The old man next door whistled, impressed. A group of girls jogging by did a double-take.

For the first time in my life, I felt undeniable.

But there was one little problem.

The heat.

The sun was brutal today—beating down for hours, my whole body soaked in sweat. My shirt clung to me, my breath came heavier, my skin felt too tight.

I figured I just needed a break. I sat down, guzzled water, wiped my face—and froze.

My skin wasn’t wiping clean.

I looked down at my arms. The sweat didn’t bead—it sank in. Like my pores had changed. My fingers trembled as I grabbed at my wrist, trying to pinch the suit’s seam.

Nothing.

I reached for my neck, feeling for the edge where the suit met my real skin. It should be there. It should peel.

It didn’t.

My pulse pounded.

I rushed to my truck’s side mirror and stared at myself. Same massive body. Same perfect muscles. Same chiseled jawline.

I pressed my fingers to my face, trying to pull the skin away. It wouldn’t move. It stretched, it flexed, it responded like it belonged.

Because it did.

I swallowed hard, my Adam’s apple bobbing—except now, it wasn’t mine. It was his.

The words from the instructions flashed in my mind—something about heat exposure. About how too much could cause permanent fusion

"Oh fuck..."

I took a slow, shaky breath. My reflection stared back, confident, unshaken.

Maybe this wasn’t the worst thing.

I clenched a massive fist, flexing my arm. I was strong. Powerful. Everything I ever wanted to be.

This was my body now.

And honestly?

I didn’t mind.

#gay #bodysuit #amazing body #male skinsuit #male bodysuit #permanent tf #college age to middle age #blue collar men #bulk

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igotanidea · 11 months ago

Text

Smooth criminal: AK!Jason x reader

part 1 : Somebody's watching me

part 2: Run baby, run

Yeah... I know it's been a while. Sorry guys. But here we are :)

***

They say that history repeats itself. That’s its merely a one big circle in which people get lost endlessly, not learning from the past mistakes, instead doing them all over again.

Like an Uroboros, forevermore biting his tail.

And that was how Y/N felt at the moment, shaking over the cup of tea Dick so generously offered her alongside with his hoodie. And even more kindly – not asking any questions of why she showed up at his apartment (or rather under it) in the middle of the night looking crazy.

She was back at the beginning. Back over Jason’s grave, sobbing and shaking while the memories of the news of him being gone forever haunted her mind.

Felt like all her efforts to forget and move on have come to nothing.

“Y/N…”

“No. No please I don’t want to talk Dick-“

“I was just gonna say you can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t know what got you so freaked out, but the Y/N I know – knew – was not the one to get scared over a spider or a mouse. So it must have been serious. Stay.” He grabbed and squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I’m serious.”

“No, no it’s too much to ask for—”

“Good thing you did not ask then.” Dick grinned “Cause I believe I offered It myself.”

“You really didn’t change a bit, Grayson. Same golden, sunshine boy.”

“And you’re still the same, not holding back girl. Woman. How long has it been exactly?”

“Two years.” She sighed

“Two years.” Dick sighed too, his eyes becoming a little blurry from the memories. “I missed you, you know. And not only me. So did Tim and Alfred and Damian and I’m sure even Bruce became a little more grumpy without your presence to challenge him.”

“He’s got enough criminals to keep him entertained I believe?”

“Oh, Y/N, criminals he can handle easily, they are no fun. But having a woman with a sharp mind? That’s something Bruce still needs a lot of training in.”

***

It was shockingly easy to reconnect with Dick.

Or maybe not, given the fact he was always awfully friendly, keeping in touch even with his exes and even having considerably good relations with some villains.

Long story short, in a months’ time she was regularly back in his life and he was back in hers. And much to her surprise, this time it was not a constant reminder of the person she lost, neither filling the void, but rather a soft recollection that she was not the only one who felt the repercussions of Jason being gone.

If anything, after that time apart, it felt like Y/N and Dick’s relationship could finally move past the tragic events and bloom. Not in a romantic sense, because he had Barbara and was making plans in that area, but like a true, deep friendship, cemented with similar feelings.

And she even got the guts to meet with the rest of the batfamily, ditching those girls who left her alone at the party. Slowly, but steadily, she was getting back to her old, familiar self, dropping the act of a girl who wanted to be anything but the version she was when Jason was alive and with her. She was not running from the past anymore, but rather embracing and accepting it. And that was the real healing.

Only that Jason was not gone.

Observing her carefully from the shadows, watching almost every step, be it himself or using his militia. With explicit orders given to not let her know they were there. He had bigger plans coming, and making the same mistake as before, by coming as close as to touch her, could never happen again. Even if somewhere deep inside, the very subdued part of him screamed for that. For the warmth he remembered and knew would come with tenderness and not pain.

She never gave him anything less but love and devotion.

If anything Jason was only cursing himself that he let her step into the Batman world again. That is was his reckless behavior that drove her back into the arms of people, who were nothing but bad news. Who would eventually end up hurting her too.

And he was going to protect his little, innocent princess from that.

So yes, he was watching.

Sending his goons when he knew she was walking back home from work late, to ensure no one would lay a finger on her.

Causing a commotion in the area that happened to be dangerous only so she would choose another way.

Sending her colleagues threat letters so they would drop the chase for the same promotion at work as her.

Beating up a guy who was trying to flirt with her when she was buying coffee-to-go at her favorite place.

Doing it all smoothly, like a professional he was.

Building up a way to execute his master plan that would keep her safe from any danger, real or hypothetical. Forever.

***

“She got home, boss. Safe and sound, not one hair out of place.” One of his militia officers reported to him

“Good.” Jason only grunted in response. One whole month and he was so close to the finale. The end was right in front of him and he had to hold himself back to not make a single rookie mistake that would derail his efforts.

“If I may, sir, why exactly are we wasting resources on some woman? She’s no one important, just a regular—”

“What did you say?”

If the sinister voice wasn’t enough to make the man stop his sentence, the iron grip on his throat did.

“I- I-“

“No one important? Huh? Was that what you said?” Jason mocked tightening fingers on the man's jugular. “Answer me!”

“I- I-“ he was struggling for air.

“Pathetic!” Jason threw him on the ground, retrieving the gun from his holster, pointing it at the man’s head.

“Please, don’t—”

“I should put a bullet in your head for talking about her like that and second one for questioning my plans.” The gun outlet was now pressing into the man’s temple. “You are doing what I tell you, you hear me? No questions. No doubts. You are here to serve me, unless-“ Jason put a little bit of pressure on the trigger.

“No! No please!”

“You’re a piece of shit.” Arkham Knight muttered, taking the gun away. “But I am feeling merciful today. We can’t have blood on the floor when Y/N arrives. Now go! Get out of my face before I change my mind! And you make sure everything is perfect because if not—” he caressed the arms with a cruel glint in his eyes, enjoying the way his officer rushed out of the room, throwing commands left and right, halfway out the door.

“Soon, baby… Soon we’ll be back together…” Jason muttered to himself once he was finally alone.

He was so close to having everything he needed.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45 @princessbl0ss0m @rosieandthethorns @beingaturtlespiritually @grierpilots @killerwendigo @teenytinytunes

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #arkham knight x you #jason todd angst #arkham knight jason todd #dc

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ur-local-wizard · 11 days ago

Text

Angel on the Court

Mattheo thought today would just be a normal day after classes… Until he saw you.

fluff, banter, basketball!matty x basketball scholarship!f!reader, muggle college au

written in response to this ask. also my submission as part of week one of @acourtofchaos's au event!

w/c: 953

masterlist nav au list

a/n: pls don't flame me if the basketball info is wrong. ik practically nothing abt the sport, as I'm more of an ice hockey girl myself.

Mattheo had already finished his classes for today. He was doing alright grade-wise, even though college, nor school in general, wasn’t exactly his strong suit. His father forced him to take up the next level of schooling, and as much as Mattheo would’ve rather gone to art school, his father would be even more pissed about that than him not going to college at all. So, he picked a happy medium: visual communications. It was creative enough to keep him sane and relatively happy, yet practical enough to keep his father’s lectures over the phone away.

Normally, he would’ve been in his dorm by now, sketching while half-asleep, listening to the music blasting from his headphones. But something pulled at him as he walked past the outdoor courts. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump, of a basketball against concrete and the swish it made as it slid through the net caught his attention. Curious, he turned his head, and stopped in his tracks.

There you were, alone. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over everything, causing the sheen of sweat that had formed on your skin to shine as you pivoted, dribbled, and made another shot. The ball easily slipped through the hoop once again. Your movements were fluid, unhurried, as if you didn’t have to think about any of it, and you looked good doing it. Distractingly so.

He walked closer, moving to the basketball court. Leaning against the fence, he watched you practice longer than he probably should have. You picked up the ball from your previous shot, crossed the court to the three-pointer line, and made another shot like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Damn,” he murmured to himself. But you must’ve heard, because you turned, and walked over to him once you saw him. “You say something?”

He blinked, surprised. But his usual cocky grin spread across his lips. “Just admiring the form.”

You raised your brows. “Didn’t know my practice was a spectator sport.”

He laughs. “Didn’t know we had someone out here giving Shaq a run for his money.”

A laugh left your lips, but your stance remained somewhat guarded – arms crossed across your chest, weight all on one hip. “Do you play, or just watch from the sidelines and look pretty?”

He grinned, setting his keys down onto the nearest bench and walked fully onto the court. “You think I’m pretty?” he asked, holding his hand out. “Mattheo.”

“I know who you are,” you said, taking his hand and introducing yourself. “You’re the guy who flipped a table at intramurals early this semester.”

“That was an accident,” he retorted. You gave him a sharp look. “Alright, a passionate accident.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He couldn’t help but grin, his tone mischievous when he spoke. “Want to see if I’ve improved from my rage quitting days?”

You laughed, handing him a ball. “Are you challenging me?”

“Unless you’re scared,” he countered, bouncing the ball once.

You scoffed, but a smile crept onto your lips. “Fine. First to five?”

“Winner gets bragging rights,” he agreed, stepping back to the center of the court. “And the loser buys us smoothies.”

You caught the ball when he passed it to you. “I’m not paying for anything.”

That was the last time he smiled for the next ten minutes. He went in cocky, but you read him like a book, blocking every move he made and side-stepping him when he attempted to steal the ball. 1-0. 2-0. Then he made a shot, and when you ran to grab the ball as it landed, your shoulder bumped him so hard that he lost his footing, nearly falling over. That small stumble cost him yet another point.

By 5-1, he was bent over, hands on his knees, panting. You, on the other hand, simply grabbed your water bottle and took a sip.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “You really don’t hold back, huh?”

“Anything for a free smoothie,” you half-joked, shrugging. When he chuckled and stood back up, you put the bottle down. “But on a serious note, my scholarship doesn’t just keep itself.”

His gaze was appreciative then, as if he saw you in a whole different light. However, it wasn’t any less admiring. “You’re on the team?”

You nodded, grinning.

“Could’ve led with that,” he grumbled.

“And miss the chance to humble your cocky ass? Never.” You hit him playfully on the shoulder.

He huffed a laugh, dragging his hand through his curls. “You’re evil.”

“Sure. But you have to admit it was fun.”

There was a pause then, charged and lingering. He stepped closer, and you could hear the distant thump of the ball as it bounced across the court, forgotten. “Do you always practice alone?” His voice was softer now.

You shrugged in response. “Hard to find anyone willing to. Or if they are, we can never agree on a time.”

He sighed. “Well, clearly this solo practice is working. Your skill is impressive. Honestly, I think it’s hot.”

You raised a brow, but when you spoke, your tone held no bite. “You think losing to me is hot?”

“No,” he said, biting back a boyish grin, “I think you kicking my ass while looking as incredible as you do is hot.”

That earned him a small, surprised laugh, and he filed that sound away as a victory. It was better than winning, if he was honest with himself.

“I’ll give you a rematch,” you said, turning to grab your stuff. “But only if you promise to try not to embarrass yourself again.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, still watching you like you were the center of the universe. “I promise.”

Ty for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!! Feedback is appreciated, and comments/reblogs mean the world <3

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

taglist: @mattyriddlesbitch @sturniolover13 @thereeallink @voidangxls @gibsluv @viperify @winnie1emon @catching-fire-in-the-wind

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janeyseymour · 7 months ago

Text

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- part 3, final part

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- Part 1. Part 2.

WC: ~3.7k

A few minutes later, your wife comes back into the room, Hadley proudly announcing that she was helping her nonna cook dinner.

“That she did,” Melissa laughs as she kisses your granddaughter’s chubby cheek. She settles back on the couch, holding Hadley close. “Now give me more of this paper.”

——

When I was seventeen, I went to senior prom. Momma went with me to pick out my prom dress, of course she did. But so did Ma. Carrie wouldn’t have gone, and had she- I would’ve ended up with a dress I hated. But I didn’t. I ended up with the dress of my dreams because of Ma. I knew we were working with an unspoken budget, but there was one dress that was just out of reach. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get it- especially with alterations that would be necessary for the dress to fit. But when I went to put it back, Ma took it right from my hands and up to the register. Her card was swiped, and both Momma and I couldn’t believe it. Ma did the alterations herself. I’m pretty sure Carrie couldn’t sew a straight line if her life depended on it.

——

“You pick any dress you might wanna try on, Mill,” Melissa told your daughter as the three of you walked into the store.

“Babe, we do have a-”

“Just trust me on this one,” the redhead whispered to you as she held your hand tightly.

Millie found a beautiful green dress- one that looked like it was made for her. You couldn’t help but admire it as she held it out.

“Go try it on,” Melissa instructed. “Go.”

Your daughter tried it on, and it fit her beautifully- you’re fairly certain this dress was made for her. But then her eyes landed on the price tag, and she went to put it back.

You frowned, but your wife had already let go of your hand, taken the gown into her own hands, and was on her way to the cashier.

“Ma,” Millie tried to protest, but the redhead just waved a hand and handed her card over.

It was later that night that your wife asked you, “I wasn’t able to spoil her for the first seven years of her life. Let me have this?”

You chuckled softly against her. “Hun, you’ve been spoiling her for the last ten years.”

——

Just like freshman year homecoming (and all of the other homecoming dances I attended), Ma invited my friends over for pictures. She was in the center of the parents, getting the perfect shots. I felt like a princess. I wouldn’t have felt like that if I was still with Carrie- I would’ve been Cinderella, and the Cinderella before she attended the ball. When I was eighteen, I graduated high school. Carrie didn’t show up to my graduation ceremony. Do you know who did? Momma. Ma. The two of them cheered louder than any other family, and they did so for every child- many of my classmates being former students of Ma’s. When I gave my valedictorian speech, I couldn’t believe how far I had come from the small, scared girl I once was. Ma recorded it, and when we play the video back, you can hear her small sniffles as she struggles to keep the camera from shaking.

——

“We were so proud of you,” you smile.

Melissa nods. “Still are.”

“I know,” your daughter smiles sweetly.

“Everything that you’ve turned into,” your wife says softly as she shifts Hadley to the other side of her lap. “Your momma and I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Stop getting sappy, and keep reading.

——

When I went away to college, I wasn’t all that far away. Some of my friends traveled across the country. I went four hours away to Syracuse for journalism. Both of my mothers were there to help me move in. Carrie would’ve never. Had she been there, I can only assume she would’ve made Momma do all of the heavy lifting- afraid she would break a nail and not giving a damn in the world about all of my momma’s aches and pains that she caused. Mel was the first one to help unload the u-haul. She was the one to bring every heavy item inside, along with the help of some of the people she knew. Momma and I barely had to lift a finger.

——

“Melissa!” you had scolded for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“I’m just tryin’ to help move in our girl!” your wife argued.

Millie huffed. “Ma, I’m here, Momma’s here, and the guys are here. You do not need to be doing all of this!”

“Your knees and back are going to be killing you tomorrow,” you warned.

Melissa just grunted as she helped to lift the dresser. Then, under her breath, “And my perfect wife will help nurse me back to health.”

——

“And you were sore for days afterwards,” you tease your wife.

The redhead shrugs with a smile. “I had to make sure Tony didn’t fu- mess it up. An’ I was right- you were the wonderful wife I knew I married and took care of me.”

“Reminds me of when you were pregnant with Had,” Noah nudges your daughter. “Told me you wouldn’t do anything with the nursery, and I come home to it being finished, you groaning in pain, and Melissa already holding an ice pack to her neck.”

“And you took great care of me when I was hurting the next few days,” Millie leans over and gives her husband a gentle peck on the lips.

“I took care of you then too,” you rolls your eyes as you throw a non-serious glare at your wife. “Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn,” you tut.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Noah grumbles. “I’d think you were Mel’s daughter through and through.”

——

College was not an easy transition for me. I was homesick within the first week. I called my momma and ma every day. It didn’t matter who I called, they always answered. Carrie never answered her phone. One particular Thursday, I finally broke. At two in the morning, I called Ma. And where Carrie would’ve been too drunk to answer the phone, Ma answered, and she came to my rescue. My biological mother would have never. But Melissa did.

——

“Millie?” Melissa’s low, sleep-filled voice answered the phone.

Sniffles could be heard on the other end of the line. “Ma.”

“Hun, what’s goin’ on?” Your wife untangled herself from your hold before sitting up and shaking you gently by the shoulder. You let a quiet groan out before peeling an eye open. She mouthed your daughter’s name, and that’s all she had to do for you to fully wake up.

“I- I wanna come home,” Millie cried into the phone. “I- I wanna come home. I want you and Momma.”

“Okay, honey. Okay,” Melissa whispered into the phone. She threw the covers off of her body and began to change out of her pajamas and into a hoodie and yoga pants. You did the same. “You don’t have class tomorrow, do you?”

“N- no,” your daughter sniffled into the phone.

“Okay,” your wife whispered. “Okay, sweetheart. Momma and I gonna come get you, and we’ll be there by seven, okay?”

“N-no,” Millie whined. “I- I just meant that I wanted to come home tomorrow on the bus.”

“We’re already up and on our way.”

You and you wife pulled onto campus at 6:30 in the morning. Melissa called your daughter, who came flying out of her apartment. Her cheeks had a trail of tears, and upon seeing Millie in such a state, Melissa knew she had made the right choice getting out of bed in the middle of the night to come get her. Before she could even get out of the car, Millie was clinging to your wife in a way that reminded you just how lucky you and your daughter were to have her in your life.

“I got you, Mills,” Melissa had whispered, stroking the blonde hair gently. “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s get you home.”

——

“You were crazy for that,” Millie chuckles.

Melissa shrugs. “I don’t regret it.”

——

I met my husband during the second semester of my sophomore year. We started dating in March, and I told my parents about him in April. Come the end of the semester, Noah and I were still in a fairly new relationship, but there was something about it that made me feel… like maybe this relationship was the one that would end in marriage. I truly believe that if Carrie had still been around, as opposed to being happy for me, she would’ve asked me if Noah came from money. Ma asked if I was happy- really and truly happy. Of course, my answer was yes. But then she took it a step further and sat me down for a conversation, just the two of us. And it really showed me how much Melissa was there for me- and for Momma.

——

“Kiddo,” Melissa sat your daughter down while you were out grocery shopping.

“Yeah?” Millie was texting on her phone, absolutely absorbed in the conversation with her boyfriend.

“Mill,” your wife said seriously. “Honey, put the phone down. I want to talk to you about this Noah boy before I meet him.”

Your daughter reluctantly set her phone to the side before giving the redhead her attention.

“So… Noah,” Melissa hummed out.

“I really like him, Ma,” Millie told your wife. “Please don’t be all… you about this and scare him off.”

“I never said I would,” your wife countered. “I just want to make sure that he’s good enough for my Millie.”

“He’s great, Ma,” your daughter chuckled. “He’s sweet, he’s a gentleman, he always makes sure I’m comfortable… my friends like him. He makes me feel… really special. He makes me feel like… like I’m more than just some girl he met at a party and only wants to get in my pants.”

“Well that’s good,” Melissa sighs out. “But I- honey, I just don’t want to see you getting hurt the way your momma got hurt- which is a lot of the reason we’re having this conversation without her here.”

Millie raised a brow.

“I know your mom and I have been together for a while now, but I still see the way that Carrie affects her to this day,” your wife admits quietly. “And I- I do everything I can to let her know that I love her more than anything- that she’s worthy of that love. But if someone breaks that in you, Jesus, Mill. I don’t even want to think about having to cleaning that mess up- literally.”

“Ma,” your daughter rolled her eyes. Then she smiled. “I appreciate that you care so much about this and me, and Momma. But I- I don’t know. There’s something about Noah that makes me feel different. Please, just… trust me on this one?”

The redhead nods, just once. She takes Millie’s hands into her own. “Just know that if this Noah boy ever hurts you, there will be hell to pay.”

——

When I was twenty three, Noah asked my moms for their blessing to marry me. My biological mother would have outright rejected that- would’ve hated Noah. Because unlike her, Noah is a kind man with a heart of gold. He’s somebody you can depend on- someone who is the exact opposite of Carrie. But Melissa, after getting to know my boyfriend of four years, eagerly agreed. She still threatened that if he ever hurt me, he would never be heard from again. Momma rolled her eyes at Ma’s threat and happily told him he was already a part of the family. When I was twenty four, Noah and I got married. Ma gave me away. Carrie never would have done that. She held Momma’s hand tightly the entire ceremony. And when we were pronounced as husband and wife, I swear you could hear Ma’s sniffed cheers over everyone else. Up until the reception, everyone thought that I had, in true fashion, taken Noah’s last name. That was not true. I was keeping my last name- I was officially Mrs. Amelia Marie Schemmenti, a name that I had taken great pride in and was not willing to give up. It was the piece of me that Melissa had given me when I was twelve. Noah understood; of course he did. The only other people who were aware of the breaking of tradition were the photographers, who was instructed to take pictures of my husband and I walking in but also of Ma, who would be in for the surprise of her life. That picture, along with the one of my ma hugging me for the first time as a married woman, are framed in my house. It is easily one of the highlights of the wedding. That, and being able to dance with both of my mothers. Where Carrie would have done it for show, ensuring that she looked her absolute best, Melissa did it because she loves me. When I was twenty five, I found out I was pregnant with Hadley. As you can imagine, both of our parents were ecstatic. They were all more than willing to help. Carrie would’ve made a Facebook post to announce that she was going to become a grandmother for the attention, and then she would’ve let my momma do all of the heavy lifting when it came down to it. Not Melissa. Melissa was always there for me- sometimes to the point that I wished she would just leave me alone. She was constantly bringing over remedies to help me with morning sickness, had baby clothes and toys over by the bin, and she was always helping me assemble things to the point that my husband or Momma walking in on us with ice or heat was the norm.

——

“Ma,” Millie groaned. “Stop bringing stuff over. This baby is gonna have more than enough.”

“You can never have enough baby clothes and diapers with the amount of shit kids produce,” Melissa singsonged as she came in with yet another box of diapers. “Trust me.”

“I know, Ma,” your daughter had sighed. “But we haven’t even had the baby shower yet, and there’s already so much crap in the house.”

“The stuff I bring over is not crap, Amelia,” the redhead said sternly as she dropped the box in what would become the nursery. “I believe I’m waiting for a ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you Ma. But seriously, you’ve already done enough. I don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

Hours later, you walked in from work to see your wife on the couch with a heating pad to her back while your pregnant daughter’s feet were in her lap. Millie had an ice pack on her wrist.

“What the hell did you two do today?”

“Put the crib together,” Melissa shrugged.

You sighed. “Noah and I told you we would take care of that.”

“I hate sitting around and doing nothing all day,” Millie told you. “I’m pregnant, not broken.”

——

When I went into labor with Hadley, I was terrified. I was in a pain worse than I ever thought imaginable. Momma was there for me the whole time, as was Noah. And where my biological mother had no idea that I was married and pregnant, Ma did- and she fought like hell to be able to be in the room with me when I needed her most. She made sure I was taken care of, had the best doctors in the room thanks to her connections (how she still has connections in the city is beyond me), and was my biggest cheerleader. When Hadley finally decided to make her appearance in this world, Ma and Momma both burst into tears of joy. And when Ma heard Hadley’s middle name… I wish we had a photograph of it.

——

“She’s beautiful,” Melissa whispered from the other side of your daughter. She pressed a soft kiss to Millie’s clammy forehead. “Absolute perfection.”

“She really is,” you affirmed quietly, eyes never leaving the baby in your little girl’s arms. “Did you still decide to go with Hadley?”

Millie nodded, stroking her daughter’s cheek with the tip of her finger.

“You wanna tell them the middle name?” Noah asked his wife.

“Not yet,” your daughter chuckled softly. “Let them hold her first.”

Hadley was passed to you first. Your granddaughter was the second most perfect baby you had ever seen- Millie being the first. And then your daughter took her own child back. She gave a soft smile before looking up to Melissa with so much love. Your wife mirrored her expression almost to a tee.

“Ma, meet your granddaughter,” Millie carefully transferred the baby from her arms to Melissa’s. Then she spoke again softly, “Hadley Melissa, meet Nonna.”

“Hadley Meli-” the redhead whispered softly before her eyes went wide. “You- you didn’t.”

“We did,” your daughter promised quietly. “Her name is Hadley Melissa, after you.”

——

Since that day, Ma has been the best Nonna to our Hadley Melissa. That doesn’t come as a shock to anyone though- Ma has always been the best. She’s there whenever any of us need her, and she’s there even when we don’t call on her to be there. Where Carrie tried to beat us down and break us apart from the time that I was born, Melissa lifted us up and showed us that we were worth something. When Carrie finally showed her true colors to people who really mattered in helping Momma and I get out of our situation, Melissa was there. While Carrie was off galavanting with her new boyfriend and not giving a damn about her daughter, Melissa picked up the pieces and made me whole again. Carrie never did, never would, never could. But Melissa, my Ma, did. Melissa Schemmenti went from my second grade teacher, to my step-mother, to my mother- and throughout all of that, she was my savior. She was the one who was always there for me; when I needed love and comfort, a strict talking to, or simply someone to listen- it was always Melissa who was there to be there for me when my biological mother wasn’t. I wouldn’t be nearly the woman I am today without Ma by my side, helping to guide me through it all. No- if I was still with Carrie, I would probably be Amelia Marie Nowak, a bitter woman who was never capable of finding love. But today, I am a woman with a life full of love and joy. I write this as Amelia Marie Schemmenti. I write this with a name that I am proud of. I am who I am today, not because of Carrie- my biological mother, but because of Melissa. Melissa, my ma, the one who proved to me that love can come in the most surprising of ways.

——

“Millie,” Melissa whispers as she finishes reading. She lifts her glasses to the top of her head again before wiping away the tears that had spilled over at the last few paragraphs. “Millie, my god.”

“Yeah?” your daughter looked to her mother as she nervously rubbed at her collarbone.

“Hun, this is…” the redhead pulls Millie into a tight hug, kissing her cheek. “I don’t deserve this.”

“You do,” both you and your daughter smile at the same time.

“W-what made you write this?” you ask quietly, a warm smile on your face. God, your daughter was an amazing writer. You wouldn’t be surprised if this piece went bigger than just the Philadelphia Inquirer.

Millie purses her lips. “National step-parent day is coming up, and I had a deadline… I wrote from the heart?”

“That beautiful, big heart of yours,” you chuckle softly as you too lean over to kiss her head.

“My boss wants me to publish it,” your daughter tells the two of you again. “Said it’s a good piece. Already had me write a summary and everything. You want to read it?”

Millie pulls out one more piece of paper.

——

National Step-parents Day is September 16th. Why would there be such a day for step-parents though? Step-parents are perceived as ‘wicked’, Cinderella’s step-mother being the most notable of this trope. They have been for as long as I can remember. So, when my mother decided to start dating again, I was terrified. But I would learn… sometimes step-parents are the best thing that could ever happen to you. This is my story.

——

“Publish it,” Melissa encourages Millie. “Publish it, and put out some good in the world.”

“I will,” Millie smiles as she reaches to take Melissa’s hand. “Thank you. For liking it, for the approval, and… for being the best Ma there is.”

Millie’s short memoir detailing her life with Melissa is published on September 16th. Her article ends up blowing up- getting much more attention than anyone thought it would. It makes its way to the press- forcing you, your wife, and your daughter to do various interviews, and others write to your daughter about how much this piece affects them. It ends up winning awards, and Millie goes on to become one of the most renowned journalists of the decade.

With each letter that your daughter writes back, each speech and interview that Millie gives, every award that she accepts, she always makes sure to let the world know that she couldn’t have done it without Melissa.

In the end though, none of that really matters to your daughter. Sure, the praise and awards are nice- truly helps along her career. The medals and trophies that sit on her mantle make for nice conversation with friends and those that come for dinner. But what matters the most? It’s that one article- a smaller text version that fits on two pages- that Melissa took upon herself to frame and hang above the fireplace that means the most to her.

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you

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daisykihannie · 1 year ago

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𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝐂𝐇.𝟐 | 𝙷.𝙹𝚂

pairing: Incubus!Jisung x gn arab!reader + bff!Felix

warnings: smut, NSFW, exhibitionism, voyerism, oral, monster fucking, no protection, power exchange, angst (if you squint), fluff (if you squint), phone sex (kinda), orgasm control, orgasm denial, edging, teasing, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, etc.

a/n: i have written and re-written chapter two so many times and i hate all of them. This is the best one out of all my attempts so, this one will be chapter 2. I wanted to touch more on the whole Jisung Catching feelings part but maybe i’ll do a chapter three later in for that. I’m sorry if this isn’t as good as chapter one. i kinda psyched myself out when writing this bc i’m scared to disappoint you guys after you all loved chapter one so much.

chapter 1 | chapter 3

When you woke up again you could feel a weight resting across your hip and a firm pressure applied to your back. Opening your eyes, you were greeted with the bright rays of morning sun dancing across your face, causing you to squint your eyes as they attempted to adjust. As you moved to grab your phone from your bedside table, the grip around your waist tightened and a growl greeted your ears. Luckily you weren’t as startled as the first time you awoke to the demon's presence against you, this time a small smile pulled at your lips instead and you rolled over swiftly to be facing him, the tips of your noses grazing each other in the process.

Your movements caused the demon to screw his eyes shut and his eyebrows to furrow in annoyance, displaying that he clearly had no intentions of getting up yet. When your body stilled and settled into a comfortable position again, his face relaxed back into a peaceful pout and you felt your heart begin to beat harshly against your rib cage. How could a demon, whose entire purpose was seduction and sex, look so damn innocent and cute? It was really starting to give you whiplash and a slight headache as you desperately tried to wrap your head around it.

You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a moment to admire the larger man in your bed. You lie there with only millimeters between your faces and he truly is a masterpiece, you can feel yourself getting lost in the gentleness of his softer features as your eyes travel everywhere they could reach with the lack of space between yourselves, determined to have his form engraved into your brain. His hand kept its firm grip on your hip bone, almost like he was worried you’d slip away and disappear if his grip loosened even slightly.

“Enjoying the view?” his deep, growling, morning voice made you jump in surprise and it successfully snapped you out of your trance. The bass of his tone shook you to your core, heat beginning to pool in your underwear as your body began to react to him before your brain had a chance to. Right as you were ready to reply with a snarky remark like you normally would to his cockiness, your phone began to ring.

Letting out a quiet groan, you reluctantly flipped your body back over, away from his comforting body heat and grabbed the device. You could feel the demon's eyes traveling along the back of your neck as you read the caller ID. Seeing “Lixie Baby” lighting up the screen you felt yourself getting giddy, having missed your best friend more than you’d realized. Accepting the call and holding the phone up to your ear you cooed “My baby! I missed you so much~” your words earned a deep chuckle from the other side, causing a warm smile to settle against your lips.

“I missed you too Angel, did you do the ritual? Have you been getting your guts rearranged too well to respond to your soulmate?” he teased, trying his best to sound offended at his implications and you let out your own chuckle in response. You heard a slight growl escape the demon behind you and his grip on your hip tightened before he pulled you back towards him. You were pressed flush against his bare chest, his exposed cock pressing into the back of your thigh with how tightly he held your body against his own.

Jisung felt a weird feeling bubbling in his chest when he heard how you spoke lovingly to the other person on the call. It wasn’t anger or anything like that, It was a new feeling. It was something that he’d never felt before and if he was being completely honest, he didn’t like it. It made his stomach twist in tight and uncomfortable knots and the fact that he had started feeling new, weird feelings since meeting you made him frustrated. The only way he knew how to cure frustrations was sex, as a sex demon, it made sense. A bubbling desire to get rid of these disgusting feelings and replace them with much better feelings was what influenced his actions at this moment.

Ignoring the way he held you possessively as you continued your conversation but you decided not to pull away from his toned body, allowing him to manhandle you in whatever way he desired. “God Lixie, why are you so concerned about me getting laid? Do you need that book back so you can get your dick wet and hop off mine?” you teased and you could just hear Felix pouting on the other side as a soft giggle left your lips. Your conversation continued like this, teasing each other in a flirty manner like you two normally did, as you felt Jisung nosing against the crook of your neck where it connected to your shoulder. The flesh under his nose and lips was still painted in red and purple marks, memorializing the night you had just shared with the demon mere hours ago.

A shiver traveled down your spine when his tongue slipped out from between his lips and began tracing the marks on your skin in soft kitten licks and you swatted at Jisung’s hip in an attempt to get him to stop. He was having none of that and you could feel him smirk against your skin at your poor attempt. He began trailing his hand that was resting on your hip down between the plush of your thighs and using his nails to dig into the supple flesh, pulling your legs apart and using his elbow to keep you from letting your legs shut again. He kept your knee bent and your foot firmly planted against the mattress behind your other knee that was still resting comfortably on its side on the bed, the space between your legs forming a triangle shape.

While Felix went on a bit of a tangent and you listened intently, you took his yapping as a chance to pull your phone away from your ear and mute your mic so you could speak to Jisung without Felix’s knowledge. “Jisung. Stop it now. Can’t you see I'm on the phone?!” you scolded him in a whisper and you felt his cock twitch against the meat of your ass in response before he spoke.

“Trust me, I can see that very clearly and since you don’t want to get off the phone when I ask nicely, you get to stay on the phone and be good for me instead.” he growled out against the shell of your ear that was newly exposed from removing the phone from it. “What the fuck are you talking about sung?” you asked slightly annoyed and very confused about what he meant. Sensing your confusion he continued, “You’re going to continue your conversation while I use your pretty body however I want as a punishment for not listening. You don’t want little Lixie to find out about the demon in your bed right? So you better be really good at hiding how good I'm making you feel.” with his words, he unmuted your phone right as you heard Felix calling out to you for a response, sensing you’d been quiet a little too long.

“Sorry Lix, I had to feed Soonie. I’m listening, don't worry.” you didn’t have a chance to argue as you fell back into listening and paying attention to the rest of Felix’s story but you did your best to hide your arousal at Jisungs words and luckily Felix didn’t catch it but you were almost positive a certain demon had when you heard another growl ripping from his throat. Jisung wasted no time once he heard Felix continue to ramble, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your sleep shorts and your into underwear.

He used his fingertips to swipe through your folds, collecting your slick arousal on his fingers as lube before begging to rub slow, teasing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to bite down on your lower lip to keep a moan from escaping. Jisungs tongue went back to traveling across your neck and shoulder, sucking and nipping at the unmarked skin and causing more reds and purples to erupt just under the surface of your skin.

“Angel? Are you okay? I heard you gasp, what happened?” concern and worry laced your best friend's voice and you had to use all of your power to focus on him and will your voice to remain steady as you spoke. “Y-yeah…” hearing your own stutter, you cleared your throat before continuing. “All is good Sunshine, just um… get scratched by Soonie… seems like she wants to p-play a bit too rough for how early it is… but I’m okay. Carry on with your story. How did Hyune respond to that?” you silently begged him not to push further and you looked at Jisung over your shoulder with a warning to stop, but he was having too much fun watching you struggle to contain your sounds.

At that exact moment the demon decided to push just the tips of his index and middle finger inside of your entrance, using a scissoring motion to tease you open for him. You had to screw your eyes shut as your body shivered and your jaw went slack with a silent moan. “That’s my baby~ you’re doing so good for me.” Jisung whispered against your neck quiet enough to not be picked up by the mic on your phone but loud enough for you to hear. He swiftly rolled you onto your back and your eyes met his in a heated, lust filled stare off as you watched him move down the expanse of your body before he stopped with his face only incessantly from your core. Your eyes were practically begging him to let you get off the phone before progressing further and he shook his head with a tsk.

Your eyes stayed on his as he began pressing open mouthed kisses to the wet spot forming on the thin fabric of your shorts just above your sensitive bud. Your jaw went slack in a silent moan at the sensation and your eyes rolled back into your head momentarily, your reaction only urging him to continue with his languid teasing. He began to make out with your clothed clit and your arm started to drop causing your phone to leave your ear for a moment and he used his sharp canines to nip slightly at the bundle of nerves. Your eyes shot back open and went wide as you stared down at him with a look to ask “what the fuck?”

He didn’t stop his tongue and lips from their languid dance along the slick soaked fabric, eyes still locked on yours as he spoke. “I said to stay on the phone. Keep the phone to your ear, now.” a whimper slipped from your lips in response to his raspy voice, attaching the phone back to its place against your ear and you heard a nervous chuckle leave Felix.

“H-hey um… if you’re busy w-we can always call later…” he sounded a bit out of breath when he spoke, almost like he was panting and before you could respond with a yes, jisung nipped at your clit again causing your body to jolt in response. “N-no Lixie… I- I’m good to k-keep talking. What were y-you saying again?” you hadn’t been able to pay attention to anything the other male was saying but he continued nevertheless. Jisung seemed pleased with this so he finally removed your drenched shorts and panties, wasting no time before attaching his mouth to your bare heat.

He let out a low growl that caused vibrations to shoot through you as soon as he could taste you. He was acting feral at your taste, lapping at your juices and sucking on your clit with slurping sounds like a man starved. It quickly became impossible to keep quiet with the way Jisung skillfully worked his tongue against you and inside your tight hole. Wanton moans began to rip out of your chest and your phone fell onto the bed as both your hands slipped into Jisung’s midnight blue locks, tugging his face against your core, grinding on his nose and tongue.

A growl erupted from the demon between your legs when he noticed that you had discarded the phone and he pulled away, earning a high pitched whine from you. You looked at him with confusion, the room growing quiet and you could hear distant grunts and huffs filling the air. That’s when it hit you, you were still on the phone with Felix and you’d gotten so lost in Jisung’s mouth that you hadn’t tried to contain the sounds of your pleasure. You face grew red as you scrambled to pick up the phone, Felix's moans filling your ear and causing your core to gush at the sounds. Jisung let out a chuckle at your reaction and watched your throbbing bundle of nerves and your hole clenching around nothing at your ruined orgasm.

“L-lixie?” you asked softly and cautiously. You were beyond embarrassed and didn't know how to approach the topic of what was happening. “Fuck angel… you sound so good i just- i can’t help myself.” his voice was more whiny than you’d ever heard before. “M-maybe we should just c-call later?” you asked him in a shaky voice, slight wince on your face in fear.

Before Felix even had a chance to respond, Jisung was grabbing your phone. “Felix was it?” he purred into the phone, Felix's moans quietly continuing on the other side before stopping abruptly when he heard the much deeper voice, earning a devilish smirk from the demon still planted between your thighs. You couldn’t hear if Felix was responding or not as you watched Jisung begin nipping at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, your body jolting at the sharp sting that followed each one.

“hmmmm why don’t you come join us? I'm sure my doll will be more than happy to have both of us at once.” and Jisung hung up before anything further could be said. Your eyes went wide as the cocky smirk remained on his face.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT JI!? HE'S MY BEST FRIEND!” You tried to sit up and pull your heat away from him but he was quicker in digging his nails into your hip bones slightly to hold you in place, his face so close that every word he spoke caused hot air to stick to the slick that covered your core.

“No need to pretend that you don’t want each other. Remember, it’s my job to serve you sexually so I know what you truly desire since sealing our contract. The contract allows me to hear every single want and need that your body holds.” he finished what he was saying and placed a light kiss to your still throbbing bud, eliciting a whimper from you. “I-it’s not like he’ll actually sh-show” you mumbled out between the kitten licks Jisung delivered between your folds, barely allowing the tip of his tongue to graze your most sensitive spots and teasing you further. Your body was heating up again as you grew more desperate to be touched properly.

“Trust me doll, he will show.” he purred and returned back to eating you out. He wasn’t nearly as ravenous as before, teasing you with soft licks, light suckles, and barely placing his index finger against your entrance and tugging slightly at the ring but never fully slipping his digits inside. He kept up his teasing and edging to the point of tears slipping from your eyes, begging him to do more but never earning such a reward.

This torture went on for about 10 minutes and you were beyond the point of soft tears, you were practically wailing for him to give you more as your doorbell rang. Your eyes shot open wide, meeting with the demon's slanted eyes and he pulled away from you just enough to speak but letting his words fall against your core. “Come in!” he called out through the apartment.

“What the fuck!? we don’t know who-“ you were cut off by a panting felix in your bedroom doorway. He looked like he’d ran all the way there, cock still tenting his sweats as he took in the sight before him. “L-lix…” you spoke through your tears, jisung taking a moment to suck harshly at your swollen bud and causing you to let out another moan and a cry.

Unfortunately you didn’t get any relief as Jisung climbed off the bed and sat in the desk chair in your room. His eyes were locked on the blonde male as your soaked core was on display, Felix's eyes never leaving you and your body began to heat up in embarrassment. You went to close your thighs and cover yourself up but Jisung let out a low guttural growl, causing you to let your knees fall back to the bed and opening your core up yet again.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Get to work, make my baby feel good~” Jisung purred out, unknowingly adding extra weight to the “my'' and shifted his hips forward in his seat, his monstrous cock on full display. Luckily Felix didn’t seem fazed at all by a literal demon sitting in your room so he made quick work to stalk over to your bed and slotting himself between your open thighs.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this~ tears and all.” Felix praised as he caged your body to the bed, pressing his clothed cock against your fully soaked and exposed core. He kissed the tears off your cheeks before catching your jutted out lower lip between his teeth. He pulled at your swollen and pouty lower lip slightly, earning a whimper from you as your hands shot into his long blonde hair and pulled his face closer. Your lips danced together in a fierce battle of dominance, your need overpowering your embarrassment in the situation as you were finally being touched properly.

Felix began rocking his hips against you, deep groans slipping into your open mouth, silvia dripping down both of your chins and down your chest. You desperately needed more after the extensive teasing from Jisung, your hands moving to Felix’s hips and pulling him painfully closer, the barrier of his clothing becoming too much as the grinding continued. The grinding and kissing just wasn’t enough and it was slightly embarrassing to know that you were acting like you were in heat with your frantic movements. You needed to feel full, needed to cum, needed Felix to fuck you open on his cock.

“L-lixie please… need you now… inside please…” you begged against his lips like you were going to go insane if he didn’t hurry up and honestly, you were convinced you might. “You… fuck- you have to let go of me first so I can take off my pants angel-“ his words hit your lips since you’d refused to let him separate from you at all and you reluctantly let go of your vice grip on him with a desperate whine when you felt his body heat leave you.

Jisung remained seated as he watched you cling desperately to the smaller blonde male. At first it was funny watching your desperation as the other fumbled through his movements, clearly he wouldn’t be able to appease you like he did but then he watched as Felix removed his clothes to reveal a toned build and a decent sized cock, causing Jisung to gulp.

When Jisung first saw the man entering your room in a fluffy sweater and gray sweats, he looked far too soft and sweet to be a satisfying partner for how wild you were. He didn’t expect him to have much experience or to be as hung as he was. He was nowhere near as big as Jisung but he definitely had a solid hand of cards to play with. Jisung looked at you and the way you drooled over just the sight of Felix’s cock made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He remained in his spot as he watched Felix settle back between your legs after stripping and you began rolling your hips along his cock the same way you’d done with Jisung that first time. He hadn’t realized how tight his grip had gotten on the armrests of your desk chair until he felt them snap under his grip, breaking off from the rest of the chair. His focus fell to the crumbling price of black plastic that now rested in his palm and with his focus off of you and Felix, he was able to realize just how tight his chest had grown.

It felt harder to breathe and his stomach was tangled in knots so tight he was sure they’d push any food up and out of his throat. A growl rumbled through his chest, that feeling of almost anger was back again and bubbling painfully against his rib cage, yet he still couldn’t place what exactly it was. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard you screaming out a name that wasn’t his.

“Fuck! Felix- oh my god! you feel so fucking good-" Your screams earned low grunts from your best friend as his hips continued to snap into you harshly, the sound of skin slapping mixed with your wanton moans and his deep groans began filling the room. The smell of sex flooded Jisung’s nose as he struggled to contain himself with the sounds being made and watching you fall apart on Felix’s cock.

Hearing how good another man, a mere human, was making you feel made his blood boil. He hated every second of this, something that was supposed to just be fun was painful to him now. He’s had plenty of threesomes before so this wasn’t anything new but the way he was seeing red as he watched Felix bring you to the brink of your orgasm? That was definitely new. How long has this been going on? Why did he do this? He was ready to tear Felix’s head from his body, he needed to stop this-

“FUCK! Yes lix~ j-just like that! I-I’m gonna- ngghh” you clenched around Felix's cock as your body was sent over the edge, muscles on fire as you came all over his cock. The clenching of your walls as you worked through your high brought Felix to his own orgasm and he pulled out, painting your chest and stomach with his long white ropes. Your body trembled as Felix pulled out with a slight wince and let his body collapse next to you, both of your chests heaving while trying to catch your breath.

“God- I can't believe we never did that.” you mumbled still trying to catch your breath, a soft chuckle following. “We definitely need to do this again Angel~” he hummed with a flirting tint to his voice. He rolled over to look at you, eyes landing on the demon in the process, fear plaguing his body at what he saw.

Jisung’s eyes were a glowing neon pink, fangs visible as he bit down on his lip, blood pouring down his chin and forming a puddle in the ridges of his abs. He saw that the chair was now missing arm rests and bits of black plastic were crumbled on the floor beside the chair.

The sight made Felix tense up and freeze, cold sweats prickling from his pores. You noticed the rigidity of Felix’s body when he froze next to you, opening your eyes again and you met those of the demon on the other side of the room. It was odd how you didn’t feel scared, the same eyes that’d haunted you in the beginning now making you coo internally. Why did he look like a kicked puppy to you?

“Sungie~” you called out softly and held out your hand for him. The lack of terror you exhibited made Felix not only petrified but beyond confused as well. Jisung looked at you, his expression softening for only a moment. It was so quick that you’d miss it if you blinked, but you’d caught it. He really was just a big puppy under that scary dog exterior.

“Come here please? I need my sungie~'' Your voice still showed how tired you were but remained soft and sweet, your focus was entirely on Jisung now and you’d almost forgotten Felix was still laying in your bed. “I-i’m gonna go before he kills me…” Felix’s voice came out shaky but his fear kept him frozen to his place. “No, Lix you stay right there.” you spoke softly, eyes trained on Jisung who still had yet to move.

“Jisung.” your voice was stern and Jisung couldn’t help but react to the dominance in your voice. Slowly rising from his seat and stalking over to you, same terrifying energy radiating off of him, expression remaining harsh to felix but you could see deeper. He wasn’t angry, he was hurt and all you wanted to do was hold him and cover his face in kisses, comfort him and make him feel better.

Jisung made it over to the bed before stopping at the side, body still rigid and powerful in his stance and his eyes flicked over to Felix, causing him to jump back a bit in fear. He couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening and he just really wanted to leave alive but you’d told him to stay and surely you’d never let him die… right?

Once Jisung was in front of you, you looked up at him through half closed lids, still feeling tiredness weighing your body down. You wrapped your extended hand around his wrist and yanked him towards you. His body fell foreword and he had to put his free hand next to your head on the pillows to keep himself from falling on you completely. Your lips collided in a searing kiss, teeth audibly classing together as your tongue slipped between the seam of his lips.

The intensity of your lips on his had him almost melting as an animalistic growl was ripped from his throat and swallowed by your open mouth. His tongue began to push against yours in a heated battle of control, your tongues caught in the small space between your lips as the rolled against one another. A moan left you through the exchange of saliva as your tongues remained on full display for the blonde who was hypnotized by the erotic exchange and Jisung began to climb on top of your still spent body.

Felix could feel his cock coming back to life as he watched the both of you battling for dominance. He couldn’t help himself as his hand made its way down his body and began to lightly tug at his over sensitive member, completely hypnotized by the two of you. Jisung easily found his place between your legs, the puddle of your orgasm under his knees and the release that painted your skin becoming sticky as it dried between your bodies.

Jisung continued to hold himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head as the kiss continued to get even sloppier and more intense as it went on, more groans and growls leaving the demon as he was trying desperately to regain control of the situation. You could feel that he wasn’t going to give up so easy, an idea popping into your head causing you to smirk against his lips.

One of your hands left where they’d rested on his tiny waist, making its way up to his throat and wrapping around the soft flesh and squeezing tightly. A whimper left the demon and you could feel his body shudder against yours and almost melt into you. You took the chance to take over completely, your tongue sliding into his mouth and licking every surface it could reach.

You began to roll your hips against him as he continued to slip into a more submissive headspace. He continued to let out whimpers and whines as he let you do whatever you wanted to him, becoming putty in your hands. The sounds he let out were a harsh contrast to th noises you’d gotten used to hearing. His growls and groans were definitely capable of making you weak in the knees but hearing him sounding so needy and desperate ignited a new kind of fire in you.

Finally separating your lips with Jisung chasing after your touch again, cock still leaking againt you heat and turning more of your body as messy as your kiss had gotten. You were looking up at the demon, body covered in Felix’s cum, a mix of both yours and Jisung’s saliva, and the essence of your arousal mixed with the copious amounts of pre-cum that’d began pouring out of Jisung’s pretty pink cock.

“Why don’t you be a good boy and show Lixie here how good you fuck me hmmmm?” you purred out, his jealousy still radiating off of him. You wanted to reassure him that you are genuinely more than satisfied by just him and the best way to do that for a sex demon was to let them show off and feel the truth in your words than to just hear them.

This got Jisung to perk up, the hurt puppy look leaving him as he glanced over to see Felix stroking his cock at the show that you two had just put on. He couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the blonde, sitting obediently and watching, being a good boy for you just because you’d told him to stay. The power you held over your bestfriend in just a few words had Jisung enamored and a fluttery and warm feeling began to erupt in his chest. He felt a sense of pride mixed with the weird and warm feelings as he looked back to you, the dominance in your gaze piercing through him and making him feel a bit exposed.

Feeling exposed wasn’t something Jisung was used to despite the fact that he'd always been striding around completely naked but this was a different kind of exposure. It felt like you'd tore his still beating heart from his chest and held it so delicately in your palms despite the fact that you could so easily in that moment treat the organ with no care and even squeeze it a bit harder in your clutches and end him, ruin him, break him and his soul with such an easy movement but you actively choose not to. You choose to be gentle, treat it with care, treat it with love, treat him with such care and love…

Love… Is that the feeling he feels? Does he love you?

He held onto that idea as he felt you wrap those pretty, delicate, fingers around the base of his cock and guiding his tip to your entrance. Again, your touch was gentle and kind, your eyes were soft and alluring without any harshness to them. You looked at him and watched him in a way he’d never experienced before. There was something in your gaze that was reaching out to him and he wanted so desperately to figure out how to take a hold of that and never let it go.

Jisung pushed into you slowly all the way to the hilt, pushing his hips flush against your ass as he bottomed out, a small hiss slipping from between your teeth from the pain of his size and the overstimulation. Jisung stilled for a moment and watched as you adjusted to him yet again, once you nodded he slowly began to pull out until just his tip remained inside of you. You took a moment to reach out and grab Felix’s free hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock and guided his small hand to your lower stomach, pressing his palm against your skin. Felix looked at you confused as you held his hand in place with gently pressure and looked to Jisung again.

“Let him feel just how well you fill me up Sung~ Let him feel just how well that demon cock rearranges my guts.” your voice still purred in a sultry tone but it became a bit more airy as your arousal began to course through your veins again. Jisung didn’t need to be told twice before bottoming out again and angling his hips upward to rub against the sweet spot inside of you, causing that familiar bulge in your abdomen to push against Felix’s hand and wanton moans to begin to fall from yout lips as he set a slow but hard rhythm to his thrusts.

To say Felix was shocked was an understatement, even as your hands gripped the blankets underneath you, his hand remained and his cock continued to leak in his fist. He could feel Jisung’s cock carving out your insides and your body heating up as you got closer to your orgasm. Jisung felt you teetering on the edge too as he picked up his speed, doing exactly the right things to have your orgasm crashing into you full force before you’d expected it.

“Yes! Fuck sung! Just like that thats my good boy! I-Im gonna-” you were cut off as the force of your orgasm kncked the wind out of you and your jaw opening into a silent scream as you came all over the demon’s cock and covered his abs in your squirt. “God fuck doll- your milking my cock so good. I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum just like you beg for, like my good fucking slut!” Jisung’s voice was strained as he worked you through your high, the grip on his cock almost painful as a few more sharp thrusts were delivered straight to your thuroughly abused sweet spot and he was toppling over the edge himself.

He came inside of you hard and Felix let out a gasp as he could feel the force of Jisung’s cum from where his hand remained pressed against your abdomen and that feeling had him rfeaching his second orgasm of the night. He painted his own abdomen in hot white ropes and a deep groan ripping through him as his thighs began twitching at the intensity of it. He lazily tugged at his cock through the after shocks before collapsing backwards on the bed and Jisung pulled out of you with a whine from his own overstimulation.

Out of the three of you, Jisung recovered the quickest. He only had to take a few moments of panting to catch his breath and relaxing back against the end of the bed frame as he watched you and Felix trying to recover. You were trembling and panting heavily, eyes shut in exhaustion and felix was pretty much in the exact same boat, both of you were covered in sweat and various bodily fluids but Jisung couldn’t help but smile softly and that warm fluttery feeling returned.

“I love you” he spoke without realizing and your head snapped up off the pillows, eyes wide and meeting his own set of wide eyes. As you tried to figure out if you'd heard him right, he was launching himself off the bed and running out of the door. He slammed the door behind him as he fled, the force behind it causing the wood of the door frame it crack and splint as your body jolted at the volume of it all. “Did- did he just…” you began, still blinking away the shock.

You could hear a burst of wind in your living room, clattering of objects hitting the walls and the scraping of your furniture moving against your wooden floors. Jisung had went back to the underworld. He’d just vanished without another word. The realization settling into your gut painfully as felix jumped at the loud sounds and your bedroom door flying back open thanks to the broken doorframe unable to hold it closed. After the sounds stopped and your apartment fell eerily quiet again, felix spoke.

“He just told you he loved you… you- Y/Nnie you tamed an incubus…” felix spoke in his own form of shock, hes studied demons and other mythological creatures for years and its insanely rare for any demon to be tamed by a mortal but somehow, you, his best friend had done it. Felix met your teary, wide eyes and pulled you into a hug. Even after everything that just happened, Felix was still your bestfriend and platonic soulmate and he was still by your side as you began to cry, tears and snot surely covering the bare skin of his chest as you were overwhelmed with so many emotions you couldn't explain.

“I- I love him too lix… how- how do i show him? How do i get him to come back? I- I can’t lose him lix…” your body trembled as you sobbed harder against Felix’s body and he rubbed soothing circles into the skin of your back until you calmed down. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get all my cum off of you, then ill take one and get all… my cum off me too and then we can figure this out. You're sticky and gross.” his nose scrunched up at the sight of his mostly dry cum on your skin and his own skin covered in his half dry cum as well. You let out a laugh and wiped all the snot and tears from your face before nodding and leaving the room to take your shower.

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