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myfictionaldreams · 5 months

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request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Adult!Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation.

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders, feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

#nyx #nyx archeron #nyx acotar #nyx smut #nyx x reader #nyx acotar smut #nyx acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar #mine*#ADULT Nyx #adult!Nyx archerson

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rafeysbby · 1 month

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Please do something with this 💕💕💕

https://www.tumblr.com/rafeysbby/759016076123258880/i-just-rewatched-that-one-clip-of-rafe-snorting-a

cw: 18+ only - mdni, smut, reader receiving oral, drug use, use of petnames

As much as you hated your boyfriend's cocaine addiction, the way he snorts the lines of white powder just got you going. His nose pressed against the surface, his smug grin every time he stood up and wiped his nose after. God it turned you on so much.

One night, you watched him pull the little baggie out from the drawer he kept his boxers in, walking over to the bedside table and laying a line out. You know it's probably weird but you stop him anyway…

“Wait…” you say in an oddly soft tone, Rafe's head swiveling to look in your direction. “No i'm not gonna quit just for you, alright?” he was in a bit of a state, you knew that. You knew that as much as you knew he needed some way to get out all the pent up stress and frustration.

“Rafe you know i wouldn't ask you to do that”. It's true, you knew it was one of the only things that kept him sane most of the time and you were too sweet to tell him to quit doing something that had become such a huge part in his routine. “My thigh… do a line on my thigh-”

His eyes widen at the suggestion. His mind goes haywire at the mere thought of having you spread for him while he snorts that sweet line right off your sweet inner-thigh.

He says nothing. Absolutely nothing as he straightens himself up and walks over to the bed, where you begin to lay back, propping yourself up on your forearms. “You’d let me do that, princess?” he's clearly turned-on by the thought and you just nod, that soft hum that escapes your lips driving him completely and utterly insane.

he kneels down at the edge of the bed, tugging slightly at the waistband of your pants, “i think we need to lose these, huh?”. Shamelessly, you nod, complying with his every word. He pulls them down quickly, as you lift your hips, sure not to waste any time.

“Spread those pretty little legs for me princess”. His tone exudes an unwavering confidence that sends a shiver up your spine.

As always, you comply. Your ‘pretty little legs’ falling open, flat against the mattress. Rafe doesn't hesitate and he pours a little coke onto your thigh, lining it up perfectly on the smooth skin. He groans happily as he presses his nose onto your thigh.

He inhales the powder, dragging his nose and lips along your thigh. You look down at him in awe and arousal, the sight of him making you incredibly wet. But you notice…

He doesn't stop as the line ends.

Eventually, he reaches the lace edge of your panties, pressing a kiss on your clothed cunt. He chuckles as he lifts his head slightly, “you're so wet already baby girl”. His words alone make you shiver, only serving to the slick you had coated your panties in.

He slides your panties to the side, out of his way as he runs a finger through your sopping folds, bringing it back up for you to see his lubricated finger, “is this what i do t’you, princess?”. You whimper softly and buck your hips up in an attempt to invite him.

He wastes no time in accepting that offer, sucking the slick off of his large digit and immediately burying his face in your pussy, nose pressed firmly on your clit as he pushes his tongue in and out of your tight hole.

He hums at the clearly satisfactory feeling this consumes him with, and with no intention of stopping anytime soon.

And that's how you spent the rest of your evening, Rafe’s face buried deep in your cunt, tongue brutally attacking your hole and your clit, overstimulating you until you're sure your legs won't be working tomorrow.

okay i have not proofread this at all i just know that its 1am and i wrote something!! also thank u baby for the ask!! i enjoyed writing this so much so i hope you like it!!

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 years

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Hi! What do you think would happen if there was a disease that turned people into yanderes and the reader is immune? So she’s the only sane one, which everyone around her falls in love (romantically and platonically) and turns obsessive?

Hrmm I'd like to take a different approach to this than the original *yandere apocolypse* of which I was thinking. Just wrote down some odd thoughts for this one!

Perhaps two thirds of the world has been inflicted with this specific disease-- making this new population become violent, deranged and utterly--obsessively, in love.

There's the beginning stages of violence and death of course, causing a great chunk of the world to go mad as some yanderes who must share a darling cannot do so. Celebrities, idols, and your local barista who's friends with everyone in town, are constantly in a tug of war battle between their yanderes.

But life seems to somewhat settle down. Everyone still functions as they would in society-- going to the bank and paying their taxes, remaining at their 9 to 5 jobs. But there are far more murders, laws are no longer followed; the daytime has become just as dangerous as the night.

Our dear reader, a cashier for a chain grocery store, has so blessedly not been affected by this newfound disease. They know their residence in a large city and with a social job would not leave them unharmed by this new change to the world. So, they begin to attend support groups for 'darlings,' the victims and (mostly) sane population that has been left. At first the other victims were people they had never seen before, seemingly innocent and normal people who just wanted to go on with their lives. They all seemed to lead a much harder living, with their unending stalkers and vicious pursuers that made them sob for hours as everyone else listened to their woes.

Reader had yet to be targeted, of which offers them a sliver of relief-- until they fear perhaps they have been affected by the disease. But their life continues, without any impulse or desire to snatch anyone up, and without any stalkers or murderers on their trail. Life is almost, weirdly, normal.

They don't watch the news anymore, they go home before it gets dark, and refuse to take any extra shifts with anyone who's been affected by the outbreak. They continue to go to the meetings, out of solidarity and precaution in case they begin to hear footsteps behind them when walking from home or find eyes peeping behind their curtains. However, the support group seemed to have slowly begun to change. Its regular members were beginning to dwindle, less and less showing up regularly. And, there seemed to be an addition of.... hostility, amongst the newer members.

The support group "leader", a man who has thrown reader off since day one, seemed to be far more invested in hearing their experiences with these "attackers" as he called them. As was everyone else, of which were slowly becoming vaguely familiar faces. Not familiar enough to mention it, but to the point where it was beginning to get eerie.

It wasn't until they went to their next shift for work, did they realize why everyone seemed so odd. Customer after customer came up, all purchasing odds and ends that could be suspicious if one paid close enough attention. But all that reader could focus on, was how the eyes of each person seemed to linger upon them, taking notice of their loose work shirt and unkempt hair. It was a common sound to hear heavy breathing from the other side of the counter, odd compliments on how beautiful their eyes were, or deafening silence from customers that didn't utter a word but stared in complete captivity. The next support group meeting, those nameless faces seemed to be far more recognizable. At this point, the original members of which reader had originally met, were nowehere to be found. All that remained, were the uncomfortably familiar customers, and the oddly charismatic leader.

Every eye seemed to be on them, each waiting for them to speak on their experience. But despite the creepy, lustful gazes and hateful glares at one another, there was some form of supportiveness that came from the group. They gave reassuring pats and squeezes, some getting a little handsier than others.

There were a few that reader recognized more than others: the silent, dark haired man that came to their register everyday, the businesswoman who always seemed to loosen her scowl once she saw them, and the couple who seemed a tad more than "friendly." Out of all of them though, reader felt the most reassurance from the group leader-- the man who seemed to dote on them like a parent would, though there was still fear over his constantly nagging questions and downward stare behind his glasses.

It was once reader decided to stop showing up to the increasingly more recent group sessions, did things start to turn sideways. There would constantly be a knock at the door, asking why they weren't there, if something was wrong, if a stalker had gotten to them. But it wasnt until recently did they feel they were being watched, followed, stalked.

Things started to go missing, from their favorite pair of underwear to little knickknacks kept on their desk. Reader had never felt the effects of the disease and its victims, but ever since the uncomfortable shift in the support group, life hadn't been the same.

One fateful afternoon, there came another series of knocks. Reader couldn't take it anymore, and had long given up on answering the door. The knocking continued, however. Thered be a pause, a moment of hesitation, before the pounding began again. Muffled voices could be heard outside readers front door, and suddenly there grew a great fear in their chest.

Not long after, the knocking seemed to occur in other areas around the house. The backdoor echoed as glass was banged on, the windows of their bedroom seemingly pressured by fists that begged to be let in. Their name was called from outside, small and booming voices all begging to be let in, promising that they were only there to help.

Reader covered their ears, crawling under the blankets and rocking themselves to the hope that the noise would go away. And eventually, It did-- only to be replaced with the sound of shattering glass and rushed footsteps.

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alastorsfuckassuglyassbob · 3 days

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Lute crazy as hell, she’s not even obsessed she’s completely…I don’t know, she’s filled with intense malice for this woman, that’s beyond obsession.

Vaggie of course is worried for her girlfriend during this, so she’s reaching out to her, but Lute completely and utterly has her body turned to her her, her eyes glued on to her like prey. It's feral, it's unbridled, like....

Like...Is THIS the face of a sane person- Or idk, angel to YOU?! And yeah, I know the other Exorcists clearly don't treat Vaggie that better, either. None of them are sweet to her, and obviously they wouldn't be...To them, she betrayed them by giving mercy to..."Demon scum" Even though that demon was just a little boy!

Like, yeah...The other Exorcists boo her, they hate her. They want to kill her, but it's really just that...? Why'd Lute take this shit so personal, and to heart, even Adam was shocked at how into it she was, like were they best friends once?? EXES?!!! No, like my mind is genuienly stuck on this, why is she so MAD? Like she's leaking out hatred and malice towards this woman.

Like sis literally TORE out her own FUCKING arm for this lady, look at all that BLOOD, and then she literally still had the energy to charge at Vaggie, and pin her down, trying to start up another fight with her AGAIN!

(Oh shit, I never noticed Adam turned back a few minutes during this moment.) But seriously, back on track. Lute actually got THIS upset, this...This ANGRY. That she was spared instead of getting killed, like what happened to them even?!!! 😭

Like...I hope they shed some light on this in season 2 or something, we get to see flashbacks of Vaggie as an Exorcist, I SERIOUSLY want to see what their relationship was like for Lute to be this feral at her. Like I genuinely think they were EXES. Like did they break up before or a few days before Vaggie spared that child or WHAT?? Why is she so mad. Lute hates demon-kind, she hates Lucifer, she hates Charlie....But not to that amount that she obsesses and feels an intense amount of venom and rage and malice for Vaggie, in like season 3 or 4 whenever she comes back and wants to start a fight again...

It won't be easy...Fortunately though! I know damn well Vaggie will be fighting for love like the last time, which will FUEL her, also...If Lute tries ANYTHING with Vaggie, while Charlie is literally there, like if Charlie isn't anywhere else or stuck, Lute better count her days.

Because Charlie literally DESPISES it when her loved ones are in any danger...

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 10 months

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Poly! Jegulus x gn! Reader - When there is no logic, look deeper

A/n: I decided to go with a different analogy for James's and Regulus's relation than I normally do (and what everyone else normally does.) So have fun with this little drabble!

Summary: Your relationship with James and Regulus through Remus's perspective.

Warnings: Swearing, brief mentions of child abuse, brief mentions of mental health issues (if you squint,) I think that's it? You have been warned!

The Three P's:

[Pronouns used: you/your] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: (romantic!) (poly!) jegulus x reader, (romantic!) wolfstar, (platonic!) marauders]

I do NOT support J. K. Rowling, or any transphobic/homophobic things she says (or anything she says really), or TERFS!

Regulus and James fit together, in a neat messy puzzle. James's darker skin contrasting with Regulus's more pale, like the sun and it's moon. Recently, Remus had been reading some muggle plays of man named Shakespeare, and just by looking at the two, he could tell that he would've written down every piece of their love story, until he knew it by heart.

The enigma, the question, he just couldn't find the answer to was you, because Regulus and James were different sides of the same coin. Slytherin and Gryffindor, light and dark, sun and moon. You just didn't fit as nicely into the big picture.

That's what he used to think anyway, before the marauders and everyone else had gotten to know you. To Remus, he used to think of you as a temporary escape for the two boys, as you were the only one out of the three who had a normal life. It was harsh, but it was the only answer to the equation he could come up with.

Remus's life hadn't been full of answers, maybe that's why he tried to find the solution, so there would be no more variables. So he didn't have to attempt to find the solution later, when they most needed it most. So maybe, just once his life could be left with more answers than questions.

Action reaction, like getting bit by a werewolf - he was one of them now. Finding Sirius, James, and Peter on the train - becoming friends. Gaining feelings for Padfoot, confessing them and becoming a couple. (Okay, maybe there were multiple steps to that equation.) Everything had a solution, something he liked to find to keep himself sane. When everything else in his life was swirled with insanity.

You fitting into the equation didn't follow a path of logic, it was completely and utterly crazy.

Now, he sees what he didn't before, the way you would stay with James even when the smile slipped from his lips. How you would listen to Regulus, and give him space to talk about his family troubles, why he stayed.

You would let James cry, and make Regulus giggle, the planets didn't just revolve around the sun now. Now the moon and it's star revolved around you.

You were a nebula, because when a person looked at you, they gasped in wonder. Everything unknown and beautiful was you, a glittering cloud of normalcy and love. Nurturing but fleeting if need be.

One time, Sirius said he and his brother were the stars, and you only laughed, shaking your head.

"Regulus is like the moon, for so long we thought we couldn't reach him, until we did."

Remus's boyfriend looked startled, Remus could agree with the feeling. How had you, just made sense of someone so complex, with so many strings and layers, with just a sentence?

The werewolf wanted to see how you would respond if he asked you about everybody at Hogwarts, about the ministry, his family. Instead, he asked you about your other boyfriend.

"James?" You smiled softly, and for some reason it warmed Remus's heart, that when you thought about his friend, you immediately were happy. As if just thinking about him was enough to revel in his sunlight.

"James is the sun, he's bright, but sometimes his brilliance gets the peoples eyes, it can annoy them. Until he gets farther away." You still had a pleasant look upon your face, but your eyes were brightly alight with sadness. "Then it's winter, and they long for summer again, because then the sun could be there to warm them a second time. Regardless of its blinding sunlight."

Remus thinks, that was the moment that he started to understand why James and Regulus had both fallen for you. You were the beautiful unknown, a nebula, out of reach, but oh, so beautiful to gaze upon.

Remus still didn't quite comprehend how you fit into the grand scheme of things, but he thinks, he starting to see the big picture.

Words 670

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Hp Taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux

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iridiss · 1 year

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Garroth growing up in a blood family that doesn’t treat him with any love, so as a kid he wishes so hard for the destined, perfect love of his life to come and save him, whisking him away like a knight in shining armor, to a life where he’s truly loved, and it’s that escapism in fantasy that he’s constantly using to cope and keep himself sane growing up

He dreams of the day someone will love him, unconditionally and truly, and though he doesn’t really know what that’ll look like yet, it’s something that he just knows intrinsically in his heart and yearns for desperately. He’s a big lover, he’s super empathetic and sensitive, he has a big heart, especially as a kid. Whenever he falls for anyone, he falls HARD, but he can’t seem to find anyone who would love him back as much as he loves them (especially since people keep seeing him as The Prince and not lovey little Garroth)

Then Garroth being forced to marry a woman he had never loved and barely even met before. Marriage being used as a giant weapon to forever seal him into the horrific life as heir to the throne, as one of the permanent pieces of this broken and abusive monarchical system, when marriage and love was supposed to be one thing that got him out, and it breaks him so much that he abandons everything and runs away. If no perfect and magical knight in shining armor will save him, then he’ll do it himself, alone.

And then he meets the most romantic knight in the world.

Laurance is so extremely homoerotic and suggestive and flirtatious with him all the time, even in canon, especially in canon

Laurance loves LOUDLY and a LOT, he’s very honest and up-front about all the emotions in his heart, and when he falls in love with someone (as opposed to falling in surface-level lust with someone) he falls HARD, but unlike Garroth, he is NOT shy about it lol

Laurance sending love and affection Garroth’s way in droves, and Garroth being utterly confused and clueless about it, because no one has ever spoken to him this way, hell, I don’t think his sheltered Princely blood has even SEEN any other person talk this way. Like Laurance just honestly and bluntly telling him “Hey big guy, I think you’re hot and cute as fuck, we should fuck on the beach right here, whaddya say?” like how is his brain going to compute that, he’s never even SEEN an affectionate relationship before, let alone seen someone be so clear and forward about it

And Laurance is honest and means every word he says, he’s not trying to play or trick Garroth. At one point Garroth thinks he is and gets super suspicious of him, but then Laurance laughs and denies it so casually and easily, and now Garroth is lost again

He literally meets the most affectionate person ever. He’s honest and upfront about his affections, he’s patient enough to give Garroth all the time in the world, he’s emotionally intelligent enough to know why he’s struggling so much with his gestures, and he’ll just patiently stand there and watch him while he has an existential crisis trying to figure out what love even means after Laurance gave him a bouquet of hand-picked flowers. Trust Issues Garroth would eventually try to accept all these kind things Laurance says about him, rather than deny the compliments and insist he’s all the things Zane and his father called him as a child. He leans into the affections, and Garroth learning how love actually works, as the very man he dreamed of as a child holds his face in his hands, and does not mock or beat or hurt him, but kisses him on the cheek instead.

Garroth learning how to love from Laurance’s unconditional and obnoxious affections, slowly becoming less and less afraid of it, until he embraces it completely and starts to give Laurance So Very Much Loving in return like he was always capable of doing. And Laurance is perfectly capable of handling the immense amount of affection, he finds it exciting actually

And though I don’t think homophobia is a thing that exists in this fantasy world, I think it’s also thematically perfect that Laurance is the exact kind of person that Garroth’s parents would HATE having as a son-in-law. Laurance’s rebellious pride is perfect for that role of breaking Garroth free of the abusive strings of his evil monarchical family and learning how to love himself instead

#MCD #aphmau #aphmau fanfiction #aphmau headcanons #minecraft diaries #mcd garroth #MCD Laurance #garrance #MCD garrance #laurance zvahl #garroth ro'meave #garroth romeave #Garroth x Laurance #aphmau mcd #fan headcanons #your honor they’re in love #there’s no way around it #IridisWrites

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xclowniex · 3 months

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Honestly, this anti-Jewish behavior is incredibly upsetting even to a non-Jewish person like me. It's like ever since it all started, I've been seeing people who I thought were sane individuals just frankly start acting absolutely bonkers, completely disregarding every bit of their better selves for the sake of something that they frankly barely seem to understand to begin with.

It's like a fucking switch just got flipped, and suddenly I'm dealing with a complete hateful stranger wearing an acquaintance's face.

I'm frankly finding myself wanting to keep myself as far away as possible from them, because they're so completely enamored, even gleefully indulgent, of this hateful behavior (and because they don't really listen when me or others try to get them back to Earth), and it's utterly spine-chilling and disturbing.

It reminds me far too much of the madness of QAnon. It shouldn't be like this; we can hate the bad things, the atrocities and war crimes that Israel's leadership and Hamas have done without turning into xenophobic assholes against people who are being harmed by both, and yet it seems like far too many people desperately crave to be the latter.

Yeah

There are so many parts to the issue of the rise in antisemitism. One part is that so many people on the left were just frothing at the mouth to have a reason to be antisemitic in a socially acceptable way. Another is that jews have always been a scapegoat for all problems and of course that hasn't changed.

There is a nickname for those who exhibit qanon behavior as its become a more popular than before. The nickname is Panon.

It's crazy how many people would call out people who did their own shitty research when it came to covid yet they do the same with i/p.

I have a vivid memory of when I was 16 or 17 having to correct one of my goyische friends about the stuff they would post on their Instagram story and they would listen and take it down, but it got to the point where I couldn't be arsed continously correcting them.

And like you said, it is absolutely wild how saying both Israel's leadership and Hamas have committed war crimes and done bad things.

The nuance which the left used to be known for has simply left the room

#antisemitism #israel #i/p #palestine #i/p war #gaza #am yisrael chai #ask clownie

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demonshauntingthedoves · 9 months

Text

Rotten

Pairing : Alcoholic/drugaddict Jungkook x female reader

Summary : Jungkook wiped the thick tears on her cheeks while his own slid down. The blood. It wasn't just blood, it was the life you both had created and he had destroyed just moments ago. He had overdone it all. In the daze of anger and alcohol. He had fucked up, he knew. It was your birthday and he had given you his rotten gift.

Warning : Unhealthy Angst, Violence, Physical abuse, slapping, kicking, cursing, arguing, mention of alcohol and drugs, drug abuse, no smut but very slight tension, they have a baby, implied miscarriage, implied killing, Jungkook is insane but tad bit emotional at the end.

WordCount : 2139

Main Masterlist

It was starkly dark, the room was unlit except for the faint glow of the television which casted across the room.

The colours from the screen flickered over your glistening eyes, lashes droopy, deprived of sleep. You rubbed your eyelids with the back of your hand, smearing more of your mascara.

You sat there on the pathetic couch. Your face seemed solemn but you were anything but.

You were enraged.

Absolutely enraged

The only thing that refrained your nerves from bursting was the little baby tucked on your lap. You stroked her little hair as she blithely slept after fisting on your milk. She was the only thing that kept you sane at this point. So you kept her close instead of putting her in the crib.

You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping down making the thin strap of your camisole dangle down your shoulder blade.

Your eyes darted around, falling on the round dining table at the other end of the drawing room. Faint light fell on the tulips, gloom casting on the poor blooms. The candles remained unlit, their purpose and your hopes of having a special candle light dinner going in wane. The food was untouched, by now, cold and covered and so was the cake you had baked with so much love. If this could not depict your ruined dinner, then you didn't know what could.

It was your birthday and you had planned everything down to the last detail. It was a very special evening. You wanted everything to be perfect for the little celebration. You had adorned your babygirl in a cute black dress much similar to your shimmery one and then you had waited in utter excitement and anticipation.

Awaited for your husband's arrival so that you could finally celebrate together.

Waited for Jungkook.

Yet, as the time ticked away, your previous eagerness simmered. Before you knew it, the clock had struck two and Jungkook still hadn’t returned home.Your special day was gone, leaving no souvenirs except the hopelessness grating your insides.

You didn't worry, didn't panic because you were very much aware where he would be. Not like he worked late office hours, he didn't. He didn't need to work in the first place, simply because his parents stuffed his back pockets well. He was a spoiled son. Absolutely rotten. So much that you knew he would be rotting in some high class club, completely and utterly wasted, to remember your birthday or even remember you.

Devastatingly or not, you knew that he didn't care. He didn't care that it was your special day, didn't think it was worth enough to not forget. And you knew he’d forget, so the prior day, you had reminded him, begged him to be present at least this one night and still he wasn't. You were a fool to think he’d prioritize you over his addiction.

You had called and texted him too but they were unanswered, finally your patience had run out and you had thrown your phone and thrown your dress off too.

Anger dripped from your heart. Sad tears stuck to the tip of your lashes. You had never felt so betrayed and you had never welcomed the urge to confront someone as much as you did now.

You neither ate nor slept. Iseul didn't go to sleep either, busy mingling with her toys and engrossed in the drama that played on tv and waiting for her father too. It was later, you decided to put her to sleep when her head nodded off a few times. You resisted to fall asleep, not before the fury of frustration burning in you was extinguished.

You were so done with him, you had always brushed off his mistakes but not this time, you were determined to confront him, even if it made your heart gnawed with unsettling feelings.

It was 13 past 3 when you heard the rustling of keys and door opening. The unpleasant smell of alcohol diffused in air as his dark frame walked in. He just stood there like a black shadow. Instead of questioning him the very moment, you just glared at him as he began to saunter around the room, not sparing you a single glance. Here you were yearning for an explanation, for some sort of apology while he didn't even intend to acknowledge you.

Your eyes stung and throat burned, yet you remained silent, quietly observing him, hearing the jarring of drawers being open and closed in haste, as he rummaged through each of them. Coal black locks tousled and fell all over his face, making him look more grotesque.You clutched the remote and increased the volume, to blur the noises he was making.

He murmured something and you heard it but didn't respond. He murmured again, louder and deeper this time turning his head to you, so he did notice you.

“ I said switch it off “

Why should you though?

You ignored him, glaring at the screen, finding it more interesting than listening to him.You tried not to flinch when he moved closer and bent, snatching the remote and shutting it off before throwing the remote back on the couch.

You silently gasped at his audacity, agitated beyond, you gently laid Iseul down and shifted to get the remote back, stubbornly switching on the tv.

You’d push his buttons too, like he was pushing yours.

In the periphery, you saw him swirl to you, felt his sharp eyes bore into you and next thing you knew the screen blackened. Seems like he ripped the cables off.

You blinked, blinded by the darkness, clutched the arm of the couch. Couldn't look but felt him loom closer. Gulped the tension, gulped the scream when he yanked you up to him. You winced at the feel of his cold rings digging into your skin. His face hovered over yours. Your nostrils grimaced at the heavy smell of liquor and sweat. The fact that he could stand without stumbling, even after being so intoxicated was beyond you.

“Why didn't you put her in the crib?” He rasped, voice sending chills, spurring goosebumps down your body.

“ Coming home at 3, reeking full of alcohol, you see it's you who needs to give an explanation, not me.” you hissed with exhausting anger, you hissed again when cold fingers cupped your chin, tightening and squishing your cheeks.

“Don't talk to me like that, you know I hate it.” Jungkook spat in his drunkenness, clearly on the brink of losing patience.

“ And I hate it too when you do this, you knew it was a special day, but still you fucked it up.” Your eyes glistened, beyond frustrated, fed up with him and his gall to argue with you instead of apologizing straight away, he wasn't regretful at all.

“ I said I fucking hate it when you talk like that.” He gritted lowly, heaving and sniffing, hands trembling with rage.

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, squirming and tripping in your movements but he tugged your face even closer. You stilled when you felt his nose and lips brush yours, fire stirring within you, he thought that you’d let him have his way with you after spoiling your night.

He had to be depraved to think that.

With all your might, you jerked his hand away, making him steer behind. You circled and turned the lamp on, you needed to take Iseul to another room before Jungkook did something rash.

Your hands were about to reach for her but instead retreated towards your hair, which were harshly pulled, wrenched from your scalp, you let out an ugly cry, it was painstaking.

Jungkook harshly whirled you to face him, tattooed fingers clutching your neck in a merciless choke hold. You saw nothing except white dots in your vision due to the strangled throat and agonizing hold on your hair.

“You fucking bitch. You hid my MD, didn't you? You knew I would look for it so you purposely hid it. Fucking give it to me or I swear-” Jungkook gurgled words out, struggling to handle his restlessness.

“I don't- I don't know about it. Leave me.” You whisper shouted at him, gripping his hands that held your throat and hair.

It was just minutes before he returned from the club and he already wanted to indulge in more substance abuse.

Fucking addict.

And over that, Jeon Jungkook had sunglasses on, that too in the middle of the night. How could he see through the shades in so much dark?

Intolerable piece of shit.

You were insufferably annoyed. Even though your knees were trembling from exhaustion and fear, you kept your stand.

“You bastard, you think I'll touch your filth. You’re crazy, really. And wearing those fucking glasses-”

You tried to remove those, trying to swat them off his eyes, ended up doing it with more force. It looked like you slapped him, barely though.

When his eyes met yours, you clearly saw that he had taken the offense. You froze.

“You hit me.”

His breath grew shallower, jaw clenched, deranged eyes piercing through yours dreading ones.

“How dare you fucking hit me?”

He swung his hand and slapped you hard, tugged at your hair with another hand and dragged you and swirled you to throw you in the other corner of the room, which had to be where the dining table was, you gasped in pain when your abdomen hit the side of the table, tears springing in your eyes. You clutched the spot which hurt and fell on your weak knees.

A choked sob escaped your lips as you tried to scramble further in the corner. But a strike came again, when Jungkook got to you. He wasn't done. The slap was far more harsh and hurting, making your ears ring, making your head whip in the direction of the floor.

He wasn't done.

“I told you I hate it when you talk to me like like that, question me like my fucking father.” he growled and kicked your cowering stomach. Ones, twice, thrice and you were out. Unconscious.

He panted heavily looking at your almost dead figure but his mind occupied only one thing. Needed to get it, rushed to take his next dose before he went insane. He searched everywhere, even looked around the stupidly decorated diner. Found a little wrapped thing beautifully sitting on the table, ripped it open with trembling fingers in anticipation, felt his heart beating.

Felt his heart stop.

All adrenal rush disappeared.

All the haze diminished.

In his hand was a little device, the two thin lines gnawing at him.

He turned to stare at your disheveled face, tried to resist the urge to look down there, tried to pretend that it wasn't something his rotten head was assuming.

But the faint blotch of blood on your unclothed inner thigh said it all.

What had he done?

Jungkook felt nauseous, not the kind one feels during sickness but the kind when one feels like dying.

He had drowned. Sunken himself willingly. He was already engulfed in guilt and it would never leave him.

You would never forgive him.

Jungkook flinched hearing the wails of little Iseul. Her nighttime fuss. He quickly reached to cradle her in his jittery arms, swaying her a bit. Iseul was bawling uncontrollably, asking for her mother, as if she knew something bad had happened to her mother.

Jungkook robotically walked towards the table and sat down with Iseual. His back to your lying body. Didn't let the child look your way. He wouldn't be able to contain more guilt. If there was even a tinge of sweetness in Jungkook’s rotten heart, it went for his daughter. He didn't want her to witness the remains of his recklessness. Not even in her babyhood.

Because she would also hate him.

Jungkook wiped the thick tears on her cheeks while his own slid down. The blood. It wasn't just blood, it was the life you both had created and he had destroyed just moments ago. He had overdone it all. In the daze of anger and alcohol. He had fucked up.

Jungkook pathetically reached to open the lids covering food dumbly trying to find something for Iseul to eat. More tears shed down as he found himself looking at the cake. It was your birthday.

And he had given you his gift.

His rotten gift.

Which you’ll always remember in your darkest miseries.

And he will too.

He killed his own unborn child, didn't he?

A/N: Oh my fish! I can't believe I wrote something so dark and rotten on the second day of new year. My brain poops bad sometimes.

Well…it's very very unhealthy angst, I do know. I hope you like this deranged piece of my work. Let me know what you guys feel about it. (🫣)

Please do Like, Comment and Reblog.

#yandere bts #btsyandere #darkfiction #dark bts #bts fanfiction #angst bts #yandere jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook #alcoholic jungkook #yandere jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts imagines

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tomwambsmilk · 2 years

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Here's the thing. I don't think Tom actually knows that Shiv sacrificed Logan's approval to try and keep him out of prison because actually telling him that would require far too much vulnerability on her part. It would be an admission of the kind of love that could be used against her and so is fundamentally unsafe. However. "It's not my fault you couldn't get his approval" is still an insane line because it's both so insightful and so fucking stupid at the same time. Yeah he completely understands that this whole thing is about the Roy kids getting Logan's approval and yet somehow does NOT understand that "getting Logan's approval" is a fundamentally different thing for them than it is for him because Logan's not his actual literal father. He knows that the struggle for Logan's approval is one of the core issues at the heart of his marriage and yet it doesn't occur to him that Logan may have intentionally driven a wedge between Tom and Shiv because no one is allowed to love anyone else more than they love Logan.

And most importantly. Tom understands the game perfectly well and yet is still operating under the delusion that the game is in any way fair. Which gets to a really key thing about Tom, which is that Tom has fully bought into the idea that capitalism is a meritocracy. If you're successful it's because you've worked harder and played the game better than everyone else. That's why he tags the kid out in episode 1 - you can't have a million dollars you didn't earn by getting a real home run. It's why handing off the work of shredding the documents is "giving someone an opportunity to shine". It's why he assumes everyone else at ATN is just parroting values they think are lucrative, much like he is, and that they don't actually believe what they're saying. It's why Tom insists that it's someone else's fault he fucked up the congressional hearings. It's why he offers to go to prison instead of going to the DOJ. Because capitalism is a game and if you play the game right you pass go and get your $200 and then eventually you win. As he rises through the ranks the game gets dirtier and dirtier than he expected, but it's still a game and the rule is that if you get Logan's approval you win.

And that's why he can sit there and calmly say "It's not my fault you didn't get his approval" like this is at all a sane or rational thing to say to your wife about her father. Because all he did was play the game and he played it better than Shiv, and now he's reaping the rewards and she isn't, and this is how the world works because the world is a meritocracy and he shouldn't be held personally responsible for that. And he's so fixated on the idea that the world is still, somehow, a meritocracy, that he's utterly blinded not just to his own privilege but to Logan's caprice and it simply does not occur to him that Shiv could have lost Logan's approval through absolutely no fault of her own - and it absolutely does not occur to him that the same thing could happen to him

#sorry this was a long post but I had to. I had to

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obriengf · 4 months

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velvet touches, indelible scars - w/dylan

he made you smile, and that's all it took for you to fall so hopelessly devoted to him. how could you not? every laugh was a breath of fresh air that you craved to breathe, derived of oxygen until he unknowingly allowed you to inhale all the good that kept you going. it was addictive, a necessity, the desire to be close to him made your heart ache and scream and thump - and for a moment, you would feel your chest tighten, but it was simply because he left you gasping on held breath over his tenderness and gentle eyes. his words were always soft, even when they held such mischief and a boyish cheekiness that made his cheeks dimple delectably. they made you feel good, always, without fault, as if you could believe any nonsense that fell so beautifully from those lips. and trust me, you would. over and over again.

his friendship was a staple that kept you clinging. and even though he would never let go, it still kelp you holding on for dear life, like it was a permanence in your life; something you didn't want to lose, you simply couldn't. and yet, the day you nearly did left a shadow of 'what ifs' that still clouded your dreams and captured your heart in an anxious strangle.

he had you mesmerised - probably without realising, not completely, at least. every single word, every sound, had you hanging and teetering on the edge of a cliff for no sane reason. you just loved him, is all. your eyes gleamed as they showed you listening so intently to his stories, encapsulated in the tales that held such domesticity, but he knew that you would like them. you would understand. you always had gotten him, from the first day that you met. it's what drew him to you.

you grinned widely, your shoulder pressed into the cushioning of his couch as you sat sideways, facing the man next to you. his position was mirrored perfectly- in sync, such comfortability. his elbow had dug in at the top and his cheek balanced on the soft curl of his fist, face turning slightly as he released a heavy laugh straight from the belly, embodied by pureness and authenticity.

it wasn't until your eyes fell slightly, your focus leaving the handsome creases of happiness that pulled at his eyes, and instead landing on the small mark that made you feel as if time was only borrowed. your smile dropped with your gaze, effortlessly, too quick for you to handle. and before you knew it, your fingers reached out.

his laughter stopped as he felt such softness - movements made solely to prevent damage, an approach to handle with care. he watched as your finger danced lightly over the side of his nose, only to pull back suddenly as if you were to touch an open flame. he frowned.

"what is it?" his voice was quiet, barely heard if you hadn't been so close. he was scared that if he spoke any louder then he would break the bubble you have found yourselves buried deep within.

your reply was just as hushed, barely breathed out as a gentle huff left your lips, "just this little guy."

dylan knew that you meant and it pained him that after all these years, all the time you had to move past it, and it still affected you in such a way that it left your poor soul with a broken heart.

he hummed, "what about it?" he was moving now as his hand covered yours, holding it against the side of his face. he could feel you relax instantly but your thumb dragged over the scar as a reminder that it lived. and that after the accident, he did too.

" i nearly lost you." there was a crack in your voice - barely present, just a minor bump, a possible cough to someone who wasn't paying as much attention. but dylan was too engrossed with everything that made you, you, that he couldn't help but feel the fracture as it settled within his chest.

his scar was an in-built memory, a permanent token, an unwanted souvenir. it reminded him of a time where he felt utterly useless and devestated. it followed him whereever he went, but it was a part of him now. and it represented how he made it out of the woods and back into the daylight.

"hey, look at me." he beckoned, watching as you were getting lost in the moments of seeing him in his hospital bed, absolutely destroyed. it was the stuff of nightmares, simply disturbing with just how fluently you could fall in and out of that memory as if you were back in that sterile white room with the beeping machines and your broken friend. dylan pressed again, "sweetheart, look at me. i'm here, i'm alive. we're okay, i promise you."

his coo was a saviour, like all the times before. you were stuck in a foggy daze, and he was the lighthouse that guided you safely to the shore. you awoke from a terrible dream and dylan still had his hand entagled with yours, and matching tears that threatened to fall from wet lash lines. your breathing stopped again - settling in your chest as words weighed on your tongue. you couldn't breathe until you felt his lips brush over your knuckles, making your words jump with emotion, "i will never let you feel pain again, if it's the last thing i do."

dylan's lips lifted, curled, gathered into a grin that felt like much needed rebirth.

he knew in that moment that he loved you, really loved you. like he did when he saw you in that hospital room all those years ago - how love shone so brightly from your eyes despite their devastated sadness. he was a man that was reduced to nothing but you never left his side. you fell in love with him at his lowest and because of you, he raised valiently from the ashes.

you would always be by his side, as he yours, never daring to look back for a a single second - especially, not when it came to that damn smile, that got you every single time.

#dylan O'Brien x reader #dylan O'Brien #dylan O'Brien blurb #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan O'Brien fic #stiles stilinski #mitch rapp #tmr thomas

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inlove76 · 4 months

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are your request opened if not please ignore this but if they are can you make a yandere gojo r sukana with male reader where the male reader doesn't care about anything and is just like meh and when gojo r sukana sneaks in to readers house and reader wakes up and catches them going through his draws and stuff he's just like "uh ok" and then goes back to sleep leaving the other one confused and then after a few seconds reader realizes what's going on and just has a big oh shit moment

yes yes I can

stupid very stupid

yandre gojo and sukuna (separately) x male reader

so as many people noticed m/n was stupid. well not stupid just a little dense when it came to important stuff so as dense as he was he was completely unaware of a certain somebody having a complete and utterly obsessive crush on him.

for him there was nothing wrong he was okay with everything.....

y'all: really? *judging*

alright let me rephrase that he didn't give two shits about anything or anyone.

y'all: that's better

anyways as m/n was on his way back home from his tiring job completely unaware of the person following close behind him and watching his every move.

m/n finally made it back to his home and how long that took was crazy. m/n was ready to pass out and so like any sane man he got in a shower and hopped into bed his eyes fluttering closed as he got comfy unaware of the person right underneath his bed

satoru gojo

gojo swiftly climbed from under your bed and stepped over to the right to watch you sleep. this kinda thing would have never been expected from gojo but he couldn't help it with the way you were kind to people but also didn't give a fuck about any of them it was intriguing to say the least but hey everyone's got something that makes them special

for gojo it was his obsessive love for you I guess anyways gojo had finally snapped out of the trance like state he was in and went over to your dresser the main reason gojo even bothered coming here was so he could find out more about you.

from his observations (stalking) you didn't like much and didn't do much either so to him you were a complete and utter mystery to solve. as gojo was going through your stuff: old pictures, dairies,notebooks and more he got startled by you waking up and sitting up to.

warm e/c eyes met beautiful blue ones. gojo froze preparing for the worst for you to realize he's not supposed to be there, for you to scream and back away throwing stuff at him. of course that didn't happen as you were too tired to process that gojo the gojo was in your room and going throw your stuff, but to be fair even if you did realize would you have honestly cared?

no. the answer is no you would not have cared and as gojo got ready for you to get freaked out, you went back to sleep

gojo stared at you in utter confusion "he just....fell asleep?" gojo mumbled to himself. gojo knew you liked sleeping from his um...investigation on you (stalking).

he waited a few minutes to see if you were actually aware he was here or not. it took your half asleep mind a few minutes to realize he was here and when you did you sat up rather quickly and wiped your head so fast he could swear he heard it crack over to gojo.

gojo just stayed there frozen and in shock "holy shit" you yelled and then sprung up out of bed

"who the hell are you and why are you in my house?" you asked the shocked white haired male in your room, it took gojo a minute to realize you were talking to him and he cleared his throat "I'm gojo..gojo satoru and I'm here to uh..." gojo trailed off not knowing what to say but one good look at your face and he realized he just gave himself away

"mhm okay yep I'm going to throw this knife at you if you don't tell me why your here" you explained as a knife just appeared out of thin air into your hand

"I was snooping trying to find out more about you" gojo blurted out for god knows why in all fairness gojo could easily kill you in a heart beat are you know limit your moving space but he didn't and wouldn't simply because you were you.

"....creep" you muttered as the knife vanished which was impressive since the whole time gojo has been watching (stalking) you you've never seemed the one to be a jujutsu sorcerer of any type

"if you wanted to know me you could've just asked to know more about me not break into my house and go throw my stuff" you had a point there but where was all the fun in that?

"well to be fair if I just randomly came up to you and asked you questions about your self would you have answered?" gojo asks fidgeting in place

"if you asked yes " you responded simply shocking gojo

"anyways since I'm tired and your here and woke me up you've gotta sleep with me"

.....

......

.....

"sleep with you huh?" gojo says with a grin forming on his lips before a pillow came in contact with his face "not like that you pervert" you huffed and flopped back onto bed getting comfy as gojo walked over to you.

"does that offer still stand" he asked as you gave a simple nod and before you knew it you were being squished into his chest as he rubbed you back soothingly "your still a creep" you mutter and fall asleep

"your mine" gojo mumbled and then fell asleep

Ryomen Sukuna

since sukuna was a curse it wasn't really all that hard to get information about you yet he still found it hard very hard.

even as sukuna looked through your stuff he still couldn't find anything it was like you were a locked book nothing could get out

with that being said and done as sukuna looked through your stuff he could sense you were waking up he turned around as soon as you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes even though it didn't work

'shit shit shit' sukuna thought as he looked over at you. red eyes meeting half asleep e/c eyes. sukuna didn't care if anyone liked him or not but the thought of YOU hating him. it hurt, he didn't want the second person he loved to leave not again he couldn't lose you he just couldn't

sukuna walked over to you and cupped your cheeks "go back to sleep" he said basically pleading

what he didn't expect was for you to listen and go right back to sleep "he...went back to sleep?" sukuna muttered to himself as he gazed down at you he was surprised to say the least

you just caught someone in your home correction you just caught a curse in your house and you went back to sleep so easily ,

he stared at you for awhile waiting for you to realize there's someone in your house, it took you a minute are two but you finally did get someone was in your house and sat up

"who are you"

"sukuna"

you both looked at eachother before you hopped up "HOLY SHIT" you yelled as you got out your pocket knife.

"you sleep with a knife" sukuna asked surprised and impressed "you don't" you responded

after some more talking you and sukuna started getting along even tho you just caught him going through your stuff

"what's your favorite food?" sukuna asked as he had you in his lap playing with your h/c hair.

"f/c" you answered as he smiled

"you know you were quite calm when you first saw me in here why?" sukuna asked as you looked forward "well because you didn't come off as threat well not much of a threat" you answered "oh really" sukuna said as he moved his hands from you hair to you waist and started rubbing down

you didn't think much of it until his hands went inside your shirt and started playing with your nipples "ngh sukuna what are you doing" you half moaned out as his hands kept twisting and pulling at your hard nipples

and it ends here cause this is supposed to be fluff

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru #x male reader #sukana x male reder #sukana #yandre sukana #yandre gojo #dense male reader #fluff

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