#This is what happens when I stay up this late

[brawberryz]

Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × Neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 2

"(NAME), PLEASE DON'T GO!"

the girl screamed trying to stop her, this couldn't be happening, this shouldn't have happened, I was supposed to have more time but your transformation accelerated

"I'm sorry, ######, but there's no time left... sorry"

"Please (Name)!, don't go..."

The girl felt tears falling from her face, she was supposed to save you but she made the same mistake again...

"Goodbye"

You gave her one last smile before falling to the ground and your body began to deform

"(NAMEE)!"

The girl screamed for the last time before your vision went dark, there was no more pain or suffering, you felt like your body was deformed but you couldn't feel or do anything it was like you only had your conscience left

The original (name) had disappeared forever, and there was nothing else to do

Or well, maybe there was something they could do

_

Bruce was sitting in front of the batcomputer trying to find any trace of you, but there was nothing, not even a trace, it was like you had vanished in the wind

He felt too bad since your last interaction with you, if he had known what would happen he would never have let you go from that hug

But it's just "would have" it was too late to regret but he could still fix things, he would find you and take you home with everyone else and finally have the family you always dreamed of

"We found nothing, not a single clue"

Richard entered the batcave feeling defeated Again, he went out with the whole family to look for some clue but there was nothing, they even tried to see if some villain had you kidnapped but there was no one who knew about you

"This is shit"

Jason said angrily while leaning against a wall, as much as he didn't want to admit it in a way it was his fault he always treated you badly and insulted you

You had too many reasons to leave the mansion and hate all of them, but if he was honest he hated the feeling that you had left, you are supposed to be a family and you should stay together

Wherever you are they will find you and when they do they will never let you escape from their hands again

"And Tim?"

Bruce asked without taking his eyes off the Batcomputer, he hated feeling like he couldn't be in control, not having control over you, like he always had

"He decided to stay a little longer to patrol and see if he found something"

Jason said putting his hands in his jacket pockets, wherever you are he just hoped you were okay although knowing how Gotham is, it would be a miracle if you were okay without a single scratch

"I'm leaving here"

Damian spoke as he walked angrily out of the batcave, a part of him was angry with you and with himself, he was angry with you because you abandoned him without even saying goodbye or giving him reasons, you decided to hide and not tell anyone

He hated having things hidden from him, and at the same time he was angry with himself for how he treated you in the past, but he had changed he swears! When you get back to the mansion she'll be the best sister you've ever seen

"Damian, wait-"

Richard tries to stop him but Damian just pushes him out of his way before yelling at him

"SHUT UP, I don't plan on staying here even a minute longer.(Name) is lost somewhere in this stupid city and all we do is stay here like idiots"

Damian said angrily as he quickly left the batcave

Richard just sighed, when Damian had something in mind there was nothing that would stop him from reaching it, not even his own family

_

Damian walked angrily down the hallway of the mansion cursing under his breath

He continued walking until a door caught his attention, it was half open and he could barely see the small light coming out

Curious, he decided to open it, he was surprised when he realized it was your room...

It was small but still well decorated, it bothered him a little that your room was so far away from the others

He didn't want to invade your privacy (if he wanted to) but the curiosity about your things was too great, he began looking in your drawers but only found unfinished crafts or clothes

It seemed strange to him that all your clothes were still in their place, if the theory that you ran away was true you should have brought some clothes, but everything was completely in order

As he continued looking he found a photo album, it seemed old since it had some dust

He removed the dust that it had and decided to open it, there was almost nothing interesting just photos of you, some from when you were little and others from your birthdays

But there was one that caught his attention, you were in a park with a girl, it seemed to him It was strange that you had left since you never left the mansion

He was also very bothered by the approach that girl had with (name), who did she think she was to touch her sister like that?

But if he was honest, in that photo you really looked happy...

You didn't have that forced happiness like in all the photos, in this one it was seen that you really felt happy with that strange girl

He put aside the album and went back to searching through your things to see if he could find something else

Some of your drawers were full of board games full of dust, he remembered that once you asked him to play one with you but he simply ignored you and said that you had time for children's games

A soft voice took him out of his thoughts

"What are you doing in (name)'s room?"

Cassadran asked, looking at Damian with doubt. She thought it was strange that he was in your room since she thought she was the only one besides Alfred who knew your room.

"Something that doesn't matter to you."

Damian answered abruptly as he continued searching through your drawers.

"You seem too worried about her to be going through her things without permission."

Cassadran spoke again. She thought it was strange that none of the family members were around the house, but she didn't pay much attention and decided to go to your room to greet you. But she was surprised when she found Damian searching through your things.

"So what? It doesn't matter now that (name) is missing. I don't think it will bother her. Besides, it's for research purposes."

Damian was getting tired of Cass's insistence, because out of nowhere he is so worried about his privacy. Were you two close?

"Missing?"

Cassadran repeated in surprise, that answer hit Cass hard, she never imagined it would really happen, were you able to leave the mansion? Although if she was honest you had reasons to leave this fucking place

"Yes, my sister is missing and apparently I'm the only one who cares about her and tries to find some clue, so go away you're just bothering me"

Damian let out a snort of annoyance before resuming his search through your things

"She's your sister now?"

That answer took Damian by surprise, what the hell was she referring to

"What..."

"She's your sister now?" Cass repeated again before speaking again "you always left her aside, well, everyone left them aside and I include myself but it seems hypocritical to me that you want to blame others when you are also guilty, you always look to blame others for your problems because you are an egocentric and selfish person who only thinks about himself, you don't care about her you just want to have a reason not to feel bad about yourself"

Those words left Damian speechless, he hated to admit it but she was right although he would never admit it out loud

He simply looked away and focused on continuing to search pretending as if Cassandra's words hadn't mattered to him

Cass turned around and left the room before giving Damian one last look

Deep down she hoped you were okay wherever you were, but if you were truly lost she was going to do whatever it took to find you, she wasn't going to allow herself to lose another important thing for her, not anymore

_

Tim was jumping from building to building trying to find some clue about you, but there was nothing. He had been investigating criminals, villains or gangs all night but no one knew anything about you.

At this point the guilt was drowning him, he felt like the worst brother in the world. How could he forget someone so important?

Most likely you are now in some dangerous place, alone and scared thinking that no one will go looking for you because you are not important enough for them.

But he will do everything possible to find you, I promise.

He decided to stop at the top of a tall building so he could rest. He felt the worst. He had been patrolling all over Gotham for more than 4 hours but had found nothing. At this point he felt like he would never find you. No...no, if he found you he should not lose hope. You were somewhere in this place...he just had to find out where.

He felt something fast approaching him. Before he could react correctly and dodge it, a supernatural force ended up throwing him against the fire escape of another building.

Shit... that hurt, he was sure he broke his back or some rib, that thing that pushed him had too much force, it was clear that it was not a criminal or villain, they were too fast and strong to be one

But before he could get up he saw how a black mass with a strange figure approached quickly

It was easily the size of a damn bus or bigger, whatever it was was not human, that black mass reminded him too much of someone, he felt that he knew that figure from somewhere

But before he could think that large figure ended up hitting him again

It seemed as if that thing had something personal with him like some kind of hatred or resentment

Tim tried with all his strength to recover from that last blow, he had to warn the others about this thing and to come quickly before this strange creature taken from a horror story finished him off

With his last strength he grabbed the communicator and sent a signal for help before that thing hit him again now with more force causing his body to hit a wall

It seems you already have your first victim in your hands, you were going to finish off all those who made you feel miserable and you were going to make them feel the same pain that they made you feel

The original (name) had already died, the only thing left was this creature full of resentment and hatred

You were going to destroy every person who stood in your way and if that meant having to destroy the city or the world you were going to do it

"MADOKA PLEASE DON'T GO" aahhh reference 😭🙏💀

Sorry if it's too short or something, I hope you enjoy this shitty chapter

You can leave me questions or anything about this AU, I'll be happy to answer them🙏

[sakura-onesan]

small remider yakity-sax (s 8, ep 18) exists.

as a rd fan i recognize many pranks she did over time became worse. (regardless, maybe not convince and give panic to your friend as that level as the rainbow cookie episode.) In that episode pinkie gets a yak instrument to play. and her playing disrupts EVERYONE. even the backround ponies. they run away from it. to the mane 6 least to worst: twi none. rarity gets distracted at work and the dress isnt how she wanted, yes she could make another, but she did waste time and materials also she could get hurt by the machine, like other episodes. rainbow dash + wonderbolts + plus the audience. show gets interrupted, followed by dangerous fast fighers outside formation, posible accidents with themselves and audience (luckily none happen). also the audience, they spend they hard earned money to see a show only to get it ruined by a third party. aj and fluttershy are about the same level, but im gonna place flutters first since it included innocent animals. aj: pinkie's playing was so against nature, apples self exploted. important note that the orchard is entire aj family's lifelihood. they did not plat to make applesauce like that. so only they get a say on what happens to their apples. (wasted produce, wasted money, also that sauce was in the trees so not safe to eat) fluttershy: many many animals JUST made to sleep. shes in her own house, late at night, didnt get asked first, and pinkie just plays. animals get woken up and she stays up calming them. the next day shes sooo tired.

Now. the entire episode get played around friends tell another shes bad at what she loves. Actually mentions the episode when twi didnt tell celestia she was bad at acting. excuse me?? celestia's bad acting didnt interrupt or harm or placed risk on ANYONE'S DAY. then when pinkies told the truth the episode makes pinkie go so sad she turns grey (like when on discord influence, chaos magis in pinkie theory), either way everything goes out of their way to tell us the rest of the mane six are in the wrong for telling pinkie to stop.

please even had the yak prince rutherford tell us + the mane six that "there's no wrong way to play the instrument and thats the point of it". please.

so pinkie plays again, screw the consequences or HER OWN actions.

thats why mare do well episode is not good either. we can both agree rd's a boaster. the biggest loudest greatest boaster. maybe she should stop a little. yes please. she was boasting that she was town's hero. yes. rd you should do heroic things because theyre good not to boast about them later. but cmon. the mane six went overboard.

or the first gilda episode. gilda was rude. gilda stole that apple. she was unecessary rude to fluttershy. also. gilda was in a strange town, she was an outsider. around the same season we see how they treat zecora, and they got more in common with zecora than with gilda (which inconsistency found! why give gilda the benefit of the doubt but not to zecora???). much later we realize how shitty griffon town is. unfriendly. unkind. little to no family. shes on defence. not with rd since they're already friends. plus, lets be real pinkie pie was so noisy, wanted to be around all the time. rd should have interviened before. but how wrong is gilda for wanting alone time with someone she trusts!? both gilda some wrong and some right can be true at the same time.

but honestly it happened to every character. like twi with the cruise episode or the movie (cmon no one was helpful, pinkie stop were incognito, rd yes animation pretty but incognitooo)

conclusion: every character was written to be only exagerrated versions of one thing overtime, some episodes we condone something but in others not, not everypony is innocent, and i blame the writing

is it just me or did this happen a lot

(this doesn't have anything to do with punkitt but this doodle style is inspired by her horsecomix so @punkitt-is-here hi)

[xobunni0]

𝒾𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➵ ℳ𝓔𝓝𝓤

- DAY 1 💌 , bf!shadow, hurt/comfort, if u saw me post this already no u didn’t 🤫

the apartment was quiet, you and Shadow sat across from each other on the bed legs loosely folded, a comfortable distance between you. the dim lighting cast a soft glow over his dark fur, highlighting the sharp edges of his features

but tonight, it was different

you had noticed it before how sometimes, no matter how close you were Shadow seemed miles away. and it had been happening more often lately.

the silence stretched on between you and Shadow, heavier than before. there were moments when he still slipped away, moments when his thoughts pulled him somewhere you couldn’t follow.

and it hurt.

it wasn’t something you wanted to admit, even to yourself. you knew Shadow wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate and you had never expected him to be. but when he pulled away, when his eyes drifted past you like he wasn’t really there it made you wonder if you were fooling yourself. If what you had with him was real

or if he was just holding on out of convenience

you sat on the bed knees pulled up to your chest, watching him as he stared out the window. his posture was tense, his mind clearly somewhere else. the city lights reflected in his eyes but you could tell he wasn’t seeing any of it

Shadow had always been distant. you knew that from the start. but knowing it and feeling it were two very different things

Shadow was beside you close enough that you could feel his presence but not close enough to feel him. not in the way you wanted

you had always been there for him. when he became lost in his head, you stayed. when his nightmares woke him in the middle of the night, you never asked questions you just reached for him letting him know you were there for him. when he disappeared for hours, sometimes days, you never demanded explanations. you simply waited.

but how long could you keep waiting?

“You’re thinking too much again” Shadow said his voice pulling you from your thoughts

you glanced at him. he was looking at you now but not in the way you wanted. he could always tell when something was on your mind but he never reached for you first.

you swallowed your fingers gripping the blanket. “Do you even care about me Shadow?”

the words felt heavier the moment they left your mouth. Shadow stiffened his red eyes narrowing slightly not in anger but in confusion

“Why would you ask that?” he said

you exhaled, shaking your head. “Because you never show it” you admitted your voice quieter now. “I’m always here for you. Always. And I don’t expect you to change who you are but… sometimes I wonder if this even means anything to you. If I mean anything to you.”

Shadow was silent. as if he was processing your words but the longer the silence stretched the more that ache in your chest deepened

his jaw tightened and for a second, you thought he might look away.

Shadow exhaled sharply his hand running over his quills. he looked at you for a long moment. slowly hesitantly he reached out

Shadow’s fingers curled over yours

and it broke you.

you had wanted this for so long. to feel him reach for you, even in the smallest of ways. to know that he cared, but now that it was happening, all it did was make your chest ache.

because it took this. It took you questioning everything, it took you feeling empty, for him to finally respond.

a quiet, shaky breath escaped you, and before you could stop it, tears forming in your eyes, blurring your vision as your fingers twitched beneath his

Shadow’s gaze sharpened immediately. “Why are you crying?” his voice wasn’t stern or harsh, no, it was soft

you tried to pull your hand away, but he didn’t let go.

“I don’t know” you whispered, though you did. you knew exactly why.

Shadow frowned, his grip on your hand tightening slightly not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there. “You do.”

you let out a quiet, humorless laugh, blinking back the tears even as they slipped down your cheeks. “Because it shouldn’t have taken this for you to show that you care.”

Shadow stiffened and for once, he had nothing to say

you shook your head, your voice breaking as you continued. “I’ve been here this whole time Shadow. Always waiting. Always hoping. And you never…” Your breath hitched, the ache in your chest spreading. “It feels like you never needed me the way I needed you.”

his grip on your hand loosened. his ears flicked back, his face unreadable. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” you asked, wiping at your eyes though the tears wouldn’t stop. “I feel like I’m always the one reaching out. Always the one holding on. And I kept telling myself it was enough just to be near you but it’s not. I’m not.”

the words came tumbling out before you could stop them, years worth of silence unraveling at once. Shadow didn’t move, didn’t speak, and that only made it worse.

a sharp breath left Shadow’s lips, his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you again, but something stopped him. his own hesitation. his own walls.

you gently pulled your hand from his grasp and this time, he let you. “I just… need some time” you whispered

Shadow’s expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes something like regret. he nodded slowly, as if understanding that for once this was something he couldn’t fix with silence.

and as you turned away, curling into yourself on the bed you wondered if you had finally reached the point where trying just wasn’t enough anymore.

you lay there curled into yourself, staring at the wall, the weight of everything of your love, your longing, your loneliness weigh heavy on your chest. you had always told yourself you could handle it, that just being with Shadow was enough.

you weren’t sure how much time passed before you felt the bed shift behind you. a familiar warmth pressed close, hesitant at first, before strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him.

you sucked in a sharp breath as Shadow buried his face against the back of your neck, his grip tightening around your waist as if afraid you would slip through his fingers. his quills brushed against your skin ticklish but comforting

then barely above a whisper so soft you almost didn’t catch it came his voice.

“…I’m sorry.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, your breath shuddering as his words ghosted over your skin. Shadow was not someone who apologized easily. but here he was wrapped around you holding you like he was afraid of losing you

“I’m sorry” he murmured again, “For making you feel like this.”

your body trembling slightly against his. his grip only tightened in response.

then, warm lips pressed against your shoulder. a soft kiss . then another. and another.

each one felt like an apology, a silent plea for you to stay to understand.

Shadow wasn’t good with words, but this was something he could give. his touch, his presence, his warmth.

“I do need you” he whispered against your skin, his lips trailing up to the back of your neck. “I don’t always know how to show it, but I do.”

your chest ached, your hands gripping his arms where they circled you

you turned slightly in his arms, just enough to meet his face. his crimson eyes were softer now

he didn’t speak. he just leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in

you swallowed hard, your hands resting lightly over his as he held you.

Shadow exhaled, his grip on you tightening. “you’re always there for me” he murmured against your hair. “now let me be here for you”

your fingers brushing lightly over his chest. his eyes met yours

“I know I don’t always show it the way you need me to” he admitted his voice lower now, rough. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” His hand lifted to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “I do.”

your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. leaning into his touch.

Shadow held your gaze for a moment, then slowly pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. his other hand found yours, fingers lacing between yours.

“I don’t know how to be the kind of person who says things outright” he continued, “But I want you and choose you, Every time.” he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his crimson eyes steady. “And that’s never going to change.”

you let out a shaky breath, nodding as you squeezed his hand in reassurance

Shadow studied you for a moment longer before leaning in, pressing a slow, kiss against your lips no urgency, no hesitation, just certainty.

when he pulled away he tucked you back into his arms, holding you close. “I love you” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Always.”

day 2 comes out this tuesday! 💌

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞��𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[five-rivers]

nervous

This fic is for the @infiniterealms remix event! Please enjoy!

.

“Stop it,” whispered Star, putting her foot on top of Paulina’s.  “If you were going to freak out this much, you should have stayed home.  Or at least not come to breakfast.”

“I don’t miss school.  Or breakfast.”  It was too important.  The time before class was when rumors and information about what happened outside of school came to light.  

Today, knowing the rumors would be vital.  

She picked at her nails.  They were new, the acrylics freshly applied, but they weren’t quite as even as they usually were.  Not up to her usual standards.  But she had to do it, just like she had to come in today.  

Star put her hands over Paulina’s.  They were shaking, too.  “It’s going to be fine,” she said.  “You just have to be, like, zen about it.”

“He didn’t even have anything on him.”

“I know.  But we’ll work something out. Just- Just stop talking about it.”

Paulina took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

.

Star and Paulina watched Valerie stalk across the courtyard, head held high, lunch tray exactly parallel to the ground.  Despite not being in any sports, she moved with a tight, athletic grace.  She drew eyes.

“She’s been getting full of herself lately,” said Paulina.  “Like, she thinks she’s better than us.  We’ve got to do something.”

“Aw, Pauli,” said Star.  “Do we have to?”

“Like, yeah?  Unless we want to just, you know, give up.”

“Give up what?”

“Uh, being on top?  Duh.”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen, Star,” said Paulina, turning to face her.  “I know you used to like her, but you’ve got to get over it.  She’s the one who ditched us.  And no one ditches us.”

Star looked down at her lunch, then nodded.

“Anyway,” said Paulina, flipping her hair over her shoulder.  “I’ve got an idea.”

.

Paulina’s eyes drifted to where Valerie sat eating breakfast.  She was wearing long sleeves, pants, and a hoodie.  She hadn’t worn skirts or short sleeves since… 

It was whatever.  It wasn’t like Paulina cared.  She was only looking because sometimes Valerie talked to the loser trio.  

“We can check his locker,” Star was saying.  “We’ve got the key.  We just have to wait for a good time.  We can take one more day.”

Paulina nodded and smiled shallowly.  “Maybe.”  Her smile quickly fell away, but as more people entered the cafeteria she covered up her general… mood… by examining her nails and checking her reflection in her new makeup mirror.  

.

“That was great,” said Paulina.  “Did you see the look on her face?”

“Mhm,” said Star, smiling tightly.  

“It’ll keep her from looking down her nose at us,” said Paulina.  She flipped open her makeup mirror, to check and make sure her lipstick hadn’t smudged.  But what she saw wasn’t her face.  It was something terrible.  Something rotting and skull-like.  

She shrieked and dropped the mirror, breaking it.  

Suddenly, the hallway was empty and cold.

“Bullieeeeees…” groaned a sepulchral voice.  “Bullieeeeeeeeeeeeees…  You will regreeeeeeet…”

.

Paulina shivered.  

“You alright?” asked Kwan.

“Just a chill.”  She shot a smile at him.  “They’ve changed the air conditioner settings or something, it’s like it’s blowing on me.”

The others started joking about how underfunded and cheap the school was.  This allowed Paulina to turn her attention to the doors just as Sam Manson came in.  

Even under these circumstances, Paulina couldn’t help but curl her lip at Manson’s appearance.  Everything she wore was just so– so ugly.  Even the way she dyed her hair was crude.  The color was totally fake and flat.  Her skirt looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors and a spray can to it.  The less said about her grungy, safety-pinned jacket the better.  

But more than that, seeing Manson reminded Paulina of the last time she’d had the displeasure of speaking to her. 

.

It had been two days since they’d pranked Valerie, and those two days were the worst.  Everything that could go wrong, did.  She always had a backup outfit at school - no one was perfect, but she could look that way - but her spare skirt caught on the door of her locker and tore.  And then there were… things.  Things lurking in mirrors, or out of the corner of her eye.  The feeling of something just outside the door whenever she went to the school bathrooms… 

And Star was having some kind of problem with missing textbooks or whatever.  It wasn’t important.

But Paulina knew exactly how to deal with this.  Or, rather, exactly who could deal with this.  It was just a matter of getting in touch with her knight in shining armor.  

She knew just how to do it, though.  She’d done it before.  For one reason or another, Phantom always showed up most often around the loser trio.  Probably because they sucked so much that they just, like, attracted ghosts who wanted to kill them or something, and Phantom had to spend all his time protecting them instead of dating Paulina, like he deserved.  

Whatever it was, it meant that she could get a message to Phantom through them.

She waited for the right time to approach them - not because she cared about them, but because she could practically feel her reputation taking a hit just from being around them - and then put on her best smile and dragged Star along behind her.

“What do you want?” snarled Manson.

“Rude,” she said.  

Manson’s eyes narrowed.  “Get on with it.  We want to get to class.”

She tittered in a way that she knew irritated Manson.  “So, you guys see Phantom all the time, right?”

“N-not really,” said Fenton, not looking at her.

“As much as anyone,” said Manson.  

“Well, you see,” said Paulina, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, “I was wondering if you could give him a message from me?”

“You want to invite him to your birthday party through us again?”

“No,” said Paulina, rolling her eyes.  That hadn’t worked well enough for her to want Manson in her house ever again.  “It’s just, I’ve been having a bit of a ghost problem.”

“Me, too,” said Star, quickly.

Fenton looked up, brows pinched together.  “You have?”

“It’s Poindexter,” said Manson.  “You remember.  From what they did with Valerie.”

“Oh,” said Fenton, expression shuttering.  “Tuck, are you sure you have the right combination?”

“Dude, just use your key.  You have it, right?”

Fenton started to search his pockets and backpack.

“It isn’t just anything,” said Paulina, “it’s, like, a huge problem whenever I’m at school.”

“Then stay home,” said Manson.  “Or be less of a b–”

Fenton opened his locker with a bang, shoved back in the gadgets that tried to spill out, and started exchanging books.  

“Sorry,” said Manson, clearly feeling anything but.  “We’ve got class.”

.

Paulina growled a little inside.  If it hadn’t been for Manson, then it never would have gotten this far.  Phantom would have fixed everything.  

When Foley arrived, he looked…  Normal.  He clearly hadn’t heard anything.  He wasn’t upset enough.

Either way, he sat down next to Manson and they started talking.  

“Come on, Pauli, let’s go,” said Star, tugging Paulina’s arm.  

“Uh, what?”

“You said you’d help me do my hair before class,” lied Star.  

.

Paulina wasn’t the kind of person to give up, and she wasn’t going to let Manson get in the way of making this stupid ghost go away and bother someone who actually deserved it.  Like Lester, maybe.  He was so annoying, and he’d had the guts to ask her to the last dance.  So gross.  

So, she waited until Fenton was alone and cornered him.  

“Phantom and I don’t talk to each other,” he said, not looking directly at her, which was so annoying.  He was supposed to have a huge crush on her.  This was supposed to work.  “I can’t help you with that.”

“But he’s always around you.  I just need you to pass on one message.”

“I can’t help you,” repeated Danny.  “My parents are ghost hunters, Paulina, they chase after Phantom and shoot at him.  He doesn’t want to talk to me.  I’m pretty sure Phantom has some kind of truce with Sidney, anyway.”

“Who?”

“You know, the ghost that’s haunting you?  Sidney Poindexter?  You’ll be fine, you just have–”

“That gross nerd?”  Paulina needed to get rid of this ghost even more!  She shuddered.  

“Okay, fine,” said Star, who Paulina had almost forgotten was there, “so he doesn’t talk to you - like, who would–”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But you’ve got, like, stuff from your parents, right?  Ghost hunting stuff.  You could give that to us for, like, protection.”

Fenton backed away.  “I really can’t.”

.

“Sorry,” said Star as they left the cafeteria.  “But this’ll probably be the best time, before classes start and while those two are still in the cafeteria.  You still have the keys?”

“Yeah,” said Paulina, touching her purse.  “Yeah.  Yeah, of course I do.  I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were,” said Star.  She sped up, lengthening her stride.  “God, this would have been so much easier if he’d just been, like, a halfway decent person and helped us.”

One of the classroom doors next to them opened and Mr. Falluca walked out.  Paulina froze for a second, but Mr. Falluca wasn’t even looking at them, instead focused on the stack of papers in his hands. 

“Don’t just stand there looking guilty,” hissed Star.  “Come on, Pauli.  We have to keep going.”

Paulina swallowed and nodded.  

.

“Come on Fenton.”  This time, she’d caught him before school, when no one would see.  “How often do your parents check your stuff?  We won’t need it for long, you know?  If they notice, can’t you just say a ghost stole it?”

“Okay, how about this?  I don’t want to give you anything.”

“What?” demanded Paulina.  “Why not?”

“You know that I dated Valerie, right?”

“And then she dropped you like a bag of moldy potatoes,” said Paulina.  “Your point?”

“My point is that I still like her.  And what you did to her….  Look.  Just apologize to her.  Really apologize, like, make amends and stuff, and you’ll be fine, okay?”

.

The hallway Fenton’s locker was in was empty, although there were sounds coming from a few of the classrooms.  

“Okay,” said Star.  “Keys.”

Paulina nodded, then dug them out of her purse to hand to her.

“Keep an eye out.”  Star turned towards Fenton’s padlock.  It was one of those weird ones that had both a combination lock and a backup keyhole.  “God, why does he have so many keys?”

“I don’t know, just hurry, okay?”

“Yeah,” muttered Star.  “Don’t worry, everything will be over soon.”

.

“Hey!” shouted Star.  “Fenton!”

He stopped, looking back over his shoulder warily.  

“If you don’t help us,” said Star, out of breath, “then–” 

“Then we’ll tell everyone about your ghost detector,” finished Paulina.  They’d scraped together every rumor about Fenton they could to come up with this.

“My… what?” said Fenton, blankly.  

Paulina had to give him credit, he was a good liar.  “You don’t expect people to believe you go to the bathroom that much, do you?  And always right before a ghost attack?  We know your parents gave you something.  Help us, or we’ll tell everyone about it, and about how you’ve been keeping it to yourself so you can hide like a coward.”

“I– What?  I don’t– I don’t have anything like that!”

She took back what she said about him being good at lying.

“If I can notice it,” said Paulina, “other people will believe it.  You think you’re at the bottom of the social ladder now…” she trailed off, threateningly.  Maybe if she hadn’t been so stressed, she would have tried a bit more honey, but sometimes vinegar was all you had.

A number of complex expressions chased across Fenton’s face, but they ended with something hard.  

“No,” he said, and then he turned away and left.  

.

“Ha!  Got it.”  Star dropped the lock in her pocket before pulling open the locker. 

“What does he have?” asked Paulina, looking over her shoulder.  “He has to have some kind of, like, shield or something.”

“I don’t know,” said Star, pushing textbooks to the side.  “You’re seeing what I’m seeing.  Here.”  She pulled a backpack - not Fenton’s normal one - off the hook.  “See what you can find in here.”

She pulled open the zipper, and inside was… money?  A cheap flip phone?  Lipstick?  Two changes of clothes, one for a girl?

Paulina wondered what Fenton was into, but it didn’t matter now.  She unzipped the smaller pockets and started rifling through those.

.

“What now?” asked Star.  

It had been a few days since they’d last talked to Fenton, and, therefore, a few days since they’d spread around the rumor, but Fenton had been… unmoved.  

Which meant that Sidney Poindexter was still a problem.

With an act of will, Paulina smoothed out her expression.  “If we can’t get what we want by asking nicely, we’ll just take it.”

“But, like, how?  He’s not coming to us.”

“Not yet,” she said.  She thought about it.  “Mama always said, if a man’s hiding one thing, he’s hiding a bunch else, too.  We’ll slip him a note saying, like, if he doesn’t want his real secret to be spread around, he’ll show up.”

“And give us what we want?”

“No,” said Paulina.  “I don’t think that he’ll give once he’s seen us.  He’s got to carry his stuff on him, right?  So we’ll just take it then.”

“Beat up Fenton by ourselves?” asked Star, dubiously.  

“Or threaten him,” said Paulina.  “We both bring something to threaten him with, okay?”  Her Papa had a stun gun, and she was sure Star could scrounge up a baseball bat or something. 

And, besides, she wanted to get Fenton back.

.

“There’s nothing in here!” hissed Star, frustrated.  She slammed the locker closed, making Paulina jump.  “What the hell.”

Paulina grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the nearest bathroom.  “Can you not?”

“Can you not?  It’s your fault we’re even in this situation!”  

“My fault?  What about what you did?”

.

Fenton was already there, leaning against the guardrail, when they reached the bridge in the park.  During daylight, it was a popular spot for couples, but it was creepy and abandoned at night

“Oh, no, not this again.  Haven’t you had enough fun with your stupid ghost detector rumor?”

“It’s not about fun, Fenton,” said Paulina.  “Now, give it over.”

“Or what?”  He stood up and walked a few steps closer to them, a strange expression on his face.  “I don’t think you actually know anything, or you would’ve used it already.”

“Or this,” said Paulina, pulling out the stun gun.  

“What the–  Is that a taser?” asked Fenton, raising his hands and stepping back.  “Are– Are you robbing me?”  He glanced sideways at Star, apparently only then noticing her bat.  

“Consider a donation to a worthy cause,” said Paulina.  “Hand over your ghost stuff.”

“I don’t have any,” said Fenton.  

“When you’re out here in the middle of the night?” asked Paulina, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, you wouldn’t even be haunted if you–”

Paulina saw red and hit the trigger.  The electrodes flew from the end of the stun gun, right on target.  Fenton yelped and fell to the ground, seizing.  

It was… satisfying, for lack of a better word.  She’d just been so– So frustrated, lately.  All of her normal ways of blowing off steam at school had been blocked by that horrible ghost.  

She pulled the trigger again.  

But, before she could, Fenton had swiped away the electrodes, and now he was pulling himself up with the railing, hand over his face.  What Paulina could see of it though–

Star came in, swinging her bat.  She cracked Fenton right across the jaw and he tumbled over the railing and off the bridge.  There was a loud cracking sound.  Fenton hitting the pavement of the walkway below.  

There was no other sound.  

Paulina breathed in, breathed out.  

“What did you do that for?” she asked.  

“You didn’t see his face,” wailed Star.  “He looked like– like he was going to kill you.  I didn’t hit him that hard!”

Paulina shook her head and went down under the bridge.  Star followed close behind.  Fenton was… lying there.  Broken.  

But still breathing.  

“We’ve got to search him,” said Star.  

“Hm?”

“For his stuff.”

“Oh, right.”

“And then we’ve got to…”

“I know,” said Paulina.  Then, dreamlike, she asked, “Can I borrow your bat?”

.

“We both did things,” said Paulina, finally.  “The important thing is that we’re in this together, right?”  Her voice trembled.  “Right?”

Star nodded.  “Right.  So– So, we can, like, we have his house keys, too.”

“Yeah,” said Paulina.  The Fentons had to have something in their house, even if their kid was apparently a moron who went around with absolutely nothing.  

“And no one’s even noticed he’s gone yet,” continued Star.  “We’ve just…”  She stopped as she put her hand in her pocket.  “I’ve still got his stupid lock.”

“Who cares?”

“His friends will notice if it’s gone.  And we’ve got to get to class, anyway.”  Star seemed to be calming down again.  Good.  She was surprisingly useful in a… situation.

.

In Paulina’s trunk was a thick canvas tarp.

She didn’t know why, exactly.  It had come with the car.  

Star went over it, pulling off tags.

Paulina broke two nails getting it back to the trunk.  

They drove to the river.  

“They’ll assume it was a ghost,” said Star.  “Especially if they don’t find him.”

Paulina had just nodded.  

.

Paulina followed Star as they left the bathroom.  It was fine.  They were going to put the lock back on the locker and it would all be fine.  

But someone was standing in front of Fenton’s locker.  

They turned, slowly, as if they were a character in a lame horror movie.  But Paulina couldn’t move.  Couldn’t breathe.  Couldn’t think.  

Fenton’s eyes met hers.  

[hirayalore]

Can I please request Sirius with a single mama who happens to be a muggle? He would be such a good daddy 😭😭😭

[ sirius black x muggle!reader | fluff | in an alternate universe wherein there was no wizarding war | 3.1k words ]

note. well this got way longer than intended and yet for some reason still doesn’t feel enough??? anyways halfway through writing this i realized that jily is supposed to be 18 when they got married so for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that they’re in their late 20s hehehe,, hope you’ll like this one! 🫶🏻

Sirius got to meet you through Lily.

The meeting was unexpected, really. It was during the time James and Lily were preparing for the wedding, and Sirius, being the designated best man and all, was tasked to deliver some important items for the ceremony from the Evans home to the Potters. 

He knocked on the front door, clad in his usual attire of faded jeans, black shirt, with a leather jacket worn around his shoulders. His motorbike was still running in the driveway, an indication that he wasn’t planning to stay long, but as soon as you opened the door and locked gazes with him, Sirius suddenly thought that perhaps it would be okay to hang around even for a few minutes or so.

He flashed a smile, a smile he knew turned up the charm and made his handsomeness look a bit devilish, and stepped a bit closer, his hands placing themselves on the front pockets of his pants. “I didn’t get the wrong address, did I?” he asked. “Although if I did, I don’t think I should be in the position to complain.” His smile transformed into an easy smirk.

You stared at him, analyzing him, taking in the sight of his dark tousled hair and the manner in which his piercing eyes looked back at you, before opening the door a bit wider. “I take it that you’re Sirius Black?”

“The very one. And you are?”

“____ ____,” you said your full name, extending a hand out for a handshake but when Sirius took it, he didn’t do what you were expecting him to do.

Instead, he brought it closer to his mouth, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he replied smoothly, prompting your face to feel a bit hot.

As you were about to utter a response, Lily came behind you and saw what was happening. She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved Sirius’ shoulder, causing him to drop your hand. 

“What?” he asked, mock innocence on his features but he was already laughing.

“Don’t even think about it, Black,” she warned, though she too was chuckling. She then handed him the things he came for without delay. “____ is off limits.”

“Why? Is she taken?” he asked, glancing at you as if waiting for you to confirm it yourself.

“No,” Lily answered before you could (again), “but she’s my best friend.”

“And? I’m your fiancé’s best mate. Wouldn’t that technically make us meant to be?” He smirked, eyes flickering to you once more. “Don’t you agree, love? I reckon you’re the maid of honor too—my perfect match as the best man.”

You laughed, a soft melodic sound that he got momentarily mesmerized by. “Well, I see Lily was right about what she told me about you. You do seem like a menace.”

“But charming and handsome nonetheless?”

“Sirius,” Lily walked out of the threshold and began gently pushing him to the direction where the motorbike was parked, “go before I hex you,” she said. “Or worse, uninvite you to the wedding.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” He relented, waving a hand before heading to the vehicle and placing the fetched items in the compartment. 

Before he revved the engine, preparing to leave, he gave you one last look which consisted of a rather heart-fluttering grin and a very flirtatious wink.

Lily turned to you as he sped off, already reading what was on your mind. “No,” she said, her tone final.

You laughed. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” She scoffed with a teasing smile, marching back inside the house and leaving you there, still staring at where Sirius rode away.

****

The next time Sirius got to see you, it was at the wedding itself.

It was a small ceremony. James’ parents were there, all happy and excited for this new chapter of their son’s life, and as for Lily’s family, only her parents came to attend.

Her sister, Petunia, still had an unprovoked dislike towards wizards, a feeling that apparently couldn’t be ignored even for one day in order to be part of her sole sister’s special day.

As for other attendees, aside from some friends they went to school with back at Hogwarts, there were quite a number of Muggle friends and relatives, mostly from Lily’s side. It was for that reason that the event felt… mundane, you could say, with the absence of magical decorations and whatnots—but in the best way possible, as it gave the whole affair a more intimate and solemn feel.

“Padfoot, you’re going to turn into a giraffe if you don’t stop craning your neck like that,” Remus retorted with a chuckle.

Sirius gave him a lopsided smirk, dropping the cigarette between his fingers and extinguishing it on the ground.

He was trying to search for you among the busy crowd, curious on where you might be. It wouldn’t take long before the entourage would be asked to take their positions and he would have the excuse of having your arm latched to his, the both of you ultimately walking across the aisle as the best man and maid of honor.

After a few more giraffe-like actions of trying to catch a glimpse of you, he finally saw you talking with Lily’s parents, a baby girl not more than three years old wearing an adorable dress carried in your arms. He didn’t think much of it, assumed that she was a flower girl, though he did notice a bit of similarities between your appearance and the little lady, such as the shape of your eyes and the color of your hair.

“Excuse me,” Sirius arrived just in time beside you as the Evans went off to greet a relative, “I believe that you’re my partner for the day?” he cheekily said.

His smile was directed to you at first, but it swiftly shifted to the toddler who you still had in your arms.

“This is Esther.” You introduced with a fond grin. “My lovely daughter.”

You watched as his eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Daughter?” he repeated, though the manner in which he said it had no malice. “Well, that explains the pretty eyes.” He chuckled before doing a courteous prince-like bow to Esther. “Pleasure to be of acquaintance, Ms. Esther.”

Esther giggled, hiding behind your hair in bashfulness, though still peaked as Sirius like she was initiating a prompt peek-a-boo game.

“Where’s this cute one’s dad?” he asked next. You could tell that he was attempting to sound nonchalant about it, as if the question wasn’t being asked to check if you were single or not again despite confirming it last time. It seemed like what he wanted to confirm this time was your current relationship with the father of your child.

You shrugged. “No idea. Probably off at someone else’s bed.”

“I see.” He laughed, sounding a bit too pleased.

When you eyes met again, your lips curved upwards as his eyes twinkled.

****

For the rest of the ceremony, you and Sirius shared conversations then and there. 

You reckoned that without Lily’s focus on you, there was less chances of her reprimanding you if she saw you willingly involve yourself with the heartbreaker that is Sirius Black. You weren’t lying when you said that she had said several things about Sirius prior to your first meeting, all of which involved not letting your guard down and being seduced by his ‘bad boy charm’.

“He’s generally nice,” Lily told you. “As a friend, that is—I can’t say much as a significant other—but I do know that he made loads of girls cry and curse his name back then.”

And as Sirius made you laugh after one joke and another, you could understand why. He was the type of guy who knew what the ladies loved and used it to his advantage; the type who was aware of how good looking he was and yet acted as if he didn’t, this effortless aura surrounding him that pulled you in ever so naturally.

Whenever Esther was whisked away by a friend or any elderly couple that were enamored with the presence of a child, Sirius took it as an opportunity to level up his advances. He’d compliment you, look at you with a gaze that made you a bit weak in the knees, and spoke in a voice that was all velvety and smooth—giving you an even clearer picture that this definitely wasn’t the first time he went his way to woo a woman.

“Look at those two,” you said upon seeing Lily and James sway along the rhythm of the slow music, caught in their own world at the center of the dance floor, “I find it hilarious that he’s the lad she ended up marrying. Do you know how many times she complained about him whenever she came back from Hogwarts?”

Sirius snorted. “Well, in her defense, James was a bloody tosser. He followed her around, trying to get her to go with him for even one date.”

You hummed in agreement. “Yes, but I also heard that he was an arse, always messing with Severus.”

“Oh, you’re familiar with Snivellus?” He appeared amused for a second, daresay proud at the awful nickname—but then realization dawned unto him, and he shifted his expression to a more controlled and behaved one. “I mean, Severus, yes. Severus Snape—I didn’t know you knew him too.”

Your nose wrinkled.

Instead of answering his question, you tilted your head slightly to the side before uttering out what you have been itching to say since he began blatantly showing interest to you. “I know your reputation, Sirius,” you began, “and I’ll have you know that I have no time for funny business.”

“Great. Neither do I.”

“I have a daughter.”

“Yes, as you have introduced me to the little one earlier.”

“And does that not bother you? Or do you like knowing that you can have someone with a child wrapped around your finger?”

His features softened in an instant. “Love, I don’t know what you exactly heard from Lily, but I’ll tell you this. I won’t deny how much of a menace I’ve been when we were still studying, but it has also been a few years since we graduated. I’m not entirely the same lad as I was.”

You were skeptical. No matter how talking to him throughout the evening gave enough proof to support his case (he did prove that he was a man of substance and who knew how to lead a meaningful conversation), you were also wary of putting all your trust in him. After all, this wasn’t the first time that a man charmed you and made the implication that he was going to treat you the best, only to flee the moment you made it apparent that you needed him.

“Okay,” you said.

Sirius chuckled. “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As it’s supposed to be.” You shrugged. “It’s a free country. You can do anything you want, as they say.”

****

It has been 11 months since Sirius and you became a couple officially.

Was Lily mad?

She was furious. She scolded you nonstop for days, saying how she didn’t lack in warning you about Sirius and that you should be careful about letting men in your life, especially since the last man you let in was not only an embarrassment, but someone who had made it apparent that not everyone can stay true to their promises.

She was right, of course. You weren’t naive and you for sure were smarter this time around. There was no moment that you ever made it easy for Sirius the second he declared his intentions with you, always being transparent of your feelings and whenever he did something that you didn’t like. Your mindset was always that if he were to give up because of your ‘pickiness’ or ‘unrealistic’ demands, then it would save you the time of investing your feelings yet again to the wrong person.

But Sirius was a different breed. He was persistent. He met each ridiculous request with ease and listened to every concern you addressed to him with commendable willingness to change. Though there were still moments wherein his inherent mischievousness jumped out, when his sharp tongue rolled out at the presence of others and you saw a side of him that you didn’t particularly like—at the end, Sirius knew when to apologize and how to show you that he wasn’t all talk in saying that he was ready to change for the better for you.

As for his relationship with Esther… well, you thought that was the most compelling thing about being with Sirius, just seeing him effortlessly take on the role of her father figure without being asked to.

“Oh, Merlin, you must be the most adorable little lady in the world, darling,” Sirius cooed at Esther as he adjusted the backpack worn behind her shoulders, dressed in light denim overalls with a white shirt underneath.

She was going on a trip with your brother, along with his wife and two kids, and was going to be picked up a few minutes from now. Sirius had insisted the night prior to sleeping at your place to help you pack Esther’s things, given how the trip was going to last three days, and when you woke up this morning to prepare breakfast and some snacks she could bring, saw that Sirius had already prepared it for you.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” you mused.

“I don’t.”

“Then how—” you cut yourself off at the reminder of him being like Lily, a wizard, and the sight of the smirk plastered on his face. “Right, right. Almost forgot about that one.”

“Sirius,” you heard your daughter chime while you checked her belongings, making sure that everything was set, “will you still be here when I get back?”

Sirius smoothed her hair. “Hm, that depends, love. You know I don’t actually live here, don’t you?” He teased her.

“But you’s always sleeping here!”

“Yes, because I like spending time with your mum.” He chuckled. “And you, of course. You can’t quite sleep without me reading you your favorite storybook.”

She nodded. “Tha’s ‘cause I likes it when you read it.”

“More than you like listening to Mummy?” You jumped in the conversation, crossing your arms in fake hurt. “I’m wounded, darling.  Aren’t I supposed to be your favorite?”

Esther grinned rather sheepishly. “You’s still are, Mummy. But when Sirius reads me my storybooks, he makes the characters all come to life!”

Before you could process the implication of what she said, two loud honks from a vehicle outside announced your brother’s arrival and Sirius was quick to take advantage of the distraction, ushering you to greet your brother outside while he helped with bringing Esther’s things to the car.

Once all things were settled, you kissed Esther’s cheek goodbye, a wet smooch that she giggled to, and said your farewells to your brother, his wife, and your two nieces that you hugged tightly and gave sweet kisses to as well before you stepped back in the driveway, waving as they drove off.

You turned your heel around the second the car was far enough, looking at Sirius who was leaning casually on the door frame of the front door.

“What?” he asked, but you knew that he was already aware of what the look meant.

You reached him as you entered the small house. “Do you use magic whenever you’re reading books to Esther?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“No, absolutely not.” 

You raised an eyebrow, in which Sirius finally grinned. 

“Okay, maybe sometimes.” He yielded. “But I promise, it’s all harmless. I just make the drawings move and run around her bedroom.”

“You…” a sigh escaped your mouth at his statement, “you make the drawings move? And, and run?”

He nodded. “It’s a simple charm, really. Makes Esther all excited too. Sometimes she even requests that I make them life sized so she could play with them.”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Well, she’s a kid, so I reckon she’d blame it to her imagination if she ever does remember this in the future.” He laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, seeing his point yet still being in disbelief at the reality of all of this. You were never that weirded out by magic—in fact, you were amazed by the existence of it—but as someone who grew up with completely mundane stuff, you still couldn’t grasp its possibility and how casual Sirius was whenever the topic arose.

“You’re lucky she adores you, Sirius,” you told him, laughing and shaking your head. “If not, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself out of this one.”

The grin was still on his mouth as he gently hauled you closer to him. “What can I say? My charisma is universal.”

“I think I beg to differ.” 

“Oh, are you saying that it doesn’t work on you? You haven’t fallen for my irresistible allure yet?”

“And if I were to say no?”

He kissed you, slow and lingering, enough to make your head spin a bit at how his lips moved with cognizance of what you liked. When he pulled back, he flashed you a rakish smirk that had you weak in the knees.

“Then I’ll have to change that. Can’t have Esther’s gorgeous mother not fall for me, can’t we?”

“You’ll survive.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Another kiss. You grinned at how you could feel the intent behind the gesture.

“But seriously,” you pulled back momentarily to look him deeply in the eyes, “thanks for being there for Esther. I appreciate how you make her laugh and all. I can see that she likes being with you.”

He smiled in response. It was sincere and warm, a side of him that you have come to witness and love for the past months. “No need to thank me, darling. The kid isn’t hard to adore either. I’d say I’m honored to be part of her life.”

You continued to gaze at Sirius, his words making you feel fuzzy and gooey inside. You never thought you’d get to this point of yours and his relationship. You always assumed that he was going to get tired one way or another, or perhaps realize that dating a single mother was not for him, but here he was, smitten with you and treating your daughter as if she was his own.

“Fine, I’ll take it back.” You slyly pulled the collar of his shirt down so you could be the one to kiss him, Sirius smirking against you as you did. “Maybe I’m not immune to your irresistible allure after all.”

He laughed, the beat of his heart syncing with yours. 

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[greengoblinswifey]

Nanny Knows Best

pairing— nicholas chavez x bimbo!nanny!reader

summary— Since the first kiss you shared with Nicholas, he’d been avoiding you, so to combat, you teased him relentlessly, having him at your mercy until he snapped.

warnings— age gap(reader is 19, nicholas is aged up to be 40), infidelity, lots of flirting, fluff, strip tease, possessive!nicholas, spanking, finger sucking, fingering, praising, mentions of virginity.

Introduction

Nicholas had been avoiding you.

It started right after the kiss—that slow, intoxicating moment when his hands were on your waist, and his lips molded against yours like he’d been waiting for it forever. But instead of pulling you into his arms again, he pulled away completely. Suddenly, he wasn’t around as much. He wasn’t in the kitchen late at night when you tiptoed in for a snack. He wasn’t watching you from across the playroom, trying and failing to pretend he wasn’t staring.

Instead, he was with Victoria.

You noticed how he started making more of an effort—taking her out, staying in conversation, touching her more. You tried not to care. But when you walked past their bedroom one night, the sound of hushed arguing made you stop in your tracks.

“What is this, Nicholas?” Victoria’s voice was sharp, accusing. “You’re not even into it. You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“Jesus, Victoria, are you serious?” He sounded exhausted, frustrated. “I’m trying here. I’m literally trying, and you’re making up shit in your head.”

Silence.

Your heart pounded.

You shouldn’t have been listening. You should’ve walked away. But the lump in your throat wouldn’t go down.

The next morning, you found Nicholas alone in the living room before the kids woke up, scrolling through his phone, brows furrowed. He barely looked up when you walked in.

It made your stomach twist.

“Mr. Chavez,” you called, your voice was soft. He finally glanced at you, and you shifted on your feet, fingers curling around the hem of your pink crop top. “Are you mad at me?”

His expression softened immediately. He sighed, setting his phone down before leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“No, honey,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, lip quivering slightly. “Then why are you acting all weird?”

He ran a hand over his face before reaching for you, big hands cupping your cheeks, his thumb stroking your skin gently. “Because I put you in a position I never should have.” His voice was so low, so careful, and his lips were right there. “That was my fault. Not yours.”

“But I liked it,” you said instantly, eyes wide.

He let out a shaky breath, and for a second, it looked like he was struggling. Like he wanted to kiss you again. Like he needed to.

“It can’t happen again,” he whispered.

Your pout deepened, but you nodded, trying to look like you understood. “Okay. You’re right.”

Before he could say anything else, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself against his broad frame. He stiffened for just a moment before his hands found your back, hesitating—then holding you tight.

Your voice was soft and sultry as you whispered, “Thank you, Mr. Chavez.”

Then you pulled away, giving him one last doe-eyed glance before disappearing down the hall. And Nicholas was left sitting there, dick hard, jaw tight, knowing damn well this wasn’t over.

The next few days, you had Nicholas in a chokehold, and you knew it.

You weren’t doing anything explicitly wrong—just being yourself. A little giggle here, a casual brush against his arm there. The way your fingers smoothed over his shoulder when you walked past him, staying just a little too long. How you bent over a little too slowly when picking up the kids’ toys, or pouted at him like you had no clue why his gaze always dropped right to your boobs.

You played dumb.

And it drove him insane.

One evening, after you’d walked past him wearing a skimpy pajama set, soft pink lace that left little to the imagination—he finally snapped.

“Sweetheart,” he called after you, voice rough.

You turned, blinking up at him innocently. “Yes, Mr. Chavez?”

His jaw clenched. His eyes flickered down your body before meeting yours again. “What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing. What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowed in feigned confusion.

Nicholas huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. So that’s how you wanted to play it.

“You,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Are trouble.”

You just smiled sweetly. “You’re the one that said it can’t happen again.”

His chuckle was quiet, deep, as he ran a hand over his face. You were messing with him. And worst of all? It was working.

One morning, you sat cross-legged in front of your vanity, doing your makeup while Madison and Alexander sat beside you, watching in awe.

“Pretty,” Madison sighed dreamily. “Want that.” She pointed to the lipgloss you held in your right hand.

You giggled. “Thank you, baby. Wanna try some lip gloss?”

Her eyes lit up. You dabbed a bit of clear gloss on her lips, and she smacked them together excitedly, grinning at her reflection in your pink handheld mirror.

And then Victoria walked by.

Her sharp gasp made you freeze.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped.

Madison shrunk back. You blinked up at Victoria, confused. “She asked me to—”

“And you just did it?” She scoffed. “She’s a child! She doesn’t need that cheap lip gloss all over her face!”

You exhaled, trying to keep your cool. “Victoria, you know would’ve cried if I didn’t—”

“And why are you even putting on makeup right now?” Her voice rose, cutting you off. “Who are you trying to impress, huh? My husband?”

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could respond, a deeper voice cut through the tension.

“Victoria,” Nicholas warned.

You both turned. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes dark.

“Stop it.” His tone left no room for argument.

She scoffed. “The nanny is putting her cheap lip gloss on my daughter—”

Your jaw clenched, ready to fire back. But instead, you did what you did best.

Your lips quivered. Your eyes all big and filled with tears. Your chin dipped, and you pouted like you were seconds away from crying.

Nicholas melted.

He let out a quiet sigh, stepping forward to cup the back of your head and pull you into his chest.

“Hey,” he cooed, his voice warm, “it’s okay, sweetheart.”

Victoria stiffened. “Are you serious?”

Nicholas barely looked at her. “Take the kids downstairs.”

She clenched her jaw, eyes flickering between the two of you. But she didn’t argue. She just rolled her eyes, huffed, and yanked Madison and Alexander’s hands, pulling them toward the stairs.

The moment she was gone, Nicholas pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up.

“Are you okay?”

Your lips curled into a tiny smile. “I am now that you’re hugging me with your big arms.”

His expression flickered, something passing through his dark gaze. Then you wrapped your arms around him again, pressing yourself against him, your soft hands sliding up his arms and back.

“Mm, you’re so manly,” you moaned, “so big and strong.”

Nicholas tensed.

You felt it—how his muscles tightened, how his chest rose with a slow, deep inhale. How something else pressed against you, solid.

Your lashes fluttered as you tilted your head up, lips hovering just over his chest. “Mr. Chavez,” you murmured.

His hands flexed on your waist.

And you knew you had him.

Nicholas’ grip on your waist tightened. He shouldn’t. But with you pressed so close, warm and soft against him, your scent sweet and intoxicating, his self-control was slipping.

His lips hovered just above your hair as he inhaled deeply, letting your perfume settle in his lungs like a drug. You were ruining him. His fingers flexed at your waist, gripping just a little harder, his pulse pounding in his ears.

He wanted to take you right then and there—right against the vanity, where his wife could walk in at any moment. He wanted to press you against the mirror, tilt your head back, and claim those glossy lips. Claim that pussy he knew was tight and ready for him.

You shifted slightly, your body brushing against him, and Nicholas swore under his breath. His jaw clenched. His resolve was cracking.

Then, just as his head dipped lower to kiss you, as if drawn by some invisible force—you stepped away.

“Well, I’m gonna finish getting ready!” you said brightly, completely unbothered, as if you hadn’t just had him on the verge of losing himself.

Nicholas exhaled sharply, shaking his head, watching as you hopped back to the mirror.

You hummed to yourself as you dusted on a final touch of highlighter, your hips swaying slightly, utterly oblivious to what you’d just done to him.

He let out a rough chuckle, rubbing his hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

You turned, blinking up at him. “What?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he muttered, forcing himself to look away.

A bit of silence passed before he cleared his throat. “I, uh—” He hesitated. “I’m sorry about Victoria.”

You turned back to your reflection, carefully applying another layer of your lipliner. “What for?”

“For how she acted,” he said, watching you. “She’s not usually like that.”

You shot him a skeptical look through the mirror. “I find that hard to believe.”

Nicholas sighed, but he didn’t argue.

Victoria left the house in a fury, slamming the door behind her. So it was just you, Nicholas, and the kids.

With Madison on your hip and Alexander perched on the kitchen counter, you set about making your famous baked mac and cheese.

“Okay, little chefs,” you cooed, handing them both a handful of shredded cheese. “Sprinkle it all over, just like this.”

Madison giggled as she clumsily dropped her handful onto the tray, while Alexander, ever the perfectionist, focused like a professional chef.

“You guys are naturals!” you gushed, pressing a dramatic kiss to Alexander’s forehead. He blushed, ducking his head.

“You forgot mine!” Madison pouted.

You gasped playfully. “Oh no, my princess needs a kiss too!” You smothered her chubby cheek in kisses, making her squeal.

As you turned to slide the tray into the oven, you suddenly felt a presence.

Your breath hitched as you spun around—and there was Nicholas, watching.

You placed a hand over your heart. “Mr. Chavez, you scared me!”

“Did I?” he smirked.

“You so were staring at me,” you accused, your other hand holding Madison close.

“I wasn’t,” he said as he cleared his throat, shifting slightly.

“You so were,” Alexander piped up, all too happy to sell his dad out.

Nicholas shot him a look. “Whose side are you on?”

“Y/N’s,” Alexander said proudly, throwing his arms around you.

“Good answer, baby,” you giggled, ruffling his brown hair.

Nicholas exhaled a laugh, but his eyes lingered on you for a bit too long. Because as you stood there, effortlessly balancing his daughter, doting on his son, moving around his kitchen like you belonged—he found himself thinking you’d make a great mother.

A great mother to his children.

And maybe even—more of his children.

Nicholas shook the thought away as Alexander pulled back, still grinning.

“Y/N kissed me and Madison,” he mused. “But what about you, daddy?”

Nicholas raised a brow, amused. “Yeah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Where’s mine?”

“Yours?” you asked, letting out a giggle.

He turned to Alexander. “Shouldn’t I get a kiss too, buddy?”

Alexander nodded happily. “Yeah! Give daddy a kiss!”

Nicholas smirked, shifting closer. “Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dropping. “Give daddy a kiss.”

Your breath caught. For a second, you froze, heart thudding loudly in your chest. Then, before you could second guess yourself, you leaned up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Nicholas inhaled sharply. You pulled away, all doe-eyed innocence, like you hadn’t just ruined him in a single second.

Then, as if you hadn’t just branded him, you turned back to the oven and chirped, “I hope you’re hungry, Mr. Chavez!”

Nicholas let out a slow, shaky breath, running a hand over his jaw.

Oh, sweetheart.

You had no idea.

Evening settled over the mansion, the warm scent of baked mac and cheese filling the air as you finished plating everyone’s share. Alexander kicked his feet excitedly under the table while Madison clung to your side, eager for her portion.

You scooped up a bite for Alexander, holding the spoon to his lips. “Open up, baby.”

He grinned, taking the bite before giggling. “Mmm! So good!”

Nicholas smirked, ruffling his son’s hair before turning to Madison, gently offering her a spoonful. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

She happily opened her mouth, chewing with delight before clapping her hands. “Yummy!”

“See? Told you guys I make the best mac and cheese.” you beamed.

Nicholas raised a brow, amused. “You sound pretty confident.”

“I am confident.” you said as you twirled your spoon playfully. “Now, Mr. Chavez, your turn.”

Nicholas leaned back slightly. “Oh? Am I getting special treatment too?”

You giggled. “Open up.”

He chuckled under his breath but obeyed, parting his lips as you fed him a spoonful. The moment the cheesy flavor hit his tongue, his brows lifted in surprise.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he admitted, shaking his head.

You giggled, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Told you.”

The evening passed with full bellies and when it was time for bed, you bathed the kids, their tired giggles filling the air, and helped tuck them in. Nicholas offered to put Alexander down while you took Madison, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s forehead before slipping out of the room.

And then he saw you.

Sitting on the edge of Madison’s bed, brushing back her soft hair as you read to her in a soothing tone. She was barely awake, blinking up at you sleepily as you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, princess,” you whispered.

Nicholas stood frozen in the doorway, something unfamiliar tightening in his chest. He found himself thinking once again, you’d be a great mother. The thought was dangerous, but it was there. Then you turned, catching him watching.

You smirked. “You’re staring again, Mr. Chavez.”

Nicholas exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Can’t help myself.”

Your giggle was soft as you brushed past him, padding into your room. As you walked into your room, Nicholas trailed behind like a lost puppy, unable to tear his eyes away from you. The way your hips swayed, the soft curve of your waist���everything about you was intoxicating and you had him completely wrapped around your finger. And then he saw just beneath the waistband of your shorts, your tramp stamp tattoo peeking out, a delicate mark sitting low on your back.

Nicholas clenched his jaw.

He’d love to have you bent over, his fingers tracing slow circles over that ink, feeling you tremble beneath his touch. The thought alone made his grip tighten at his sides.

And just when he thought you couldn’t test him any further, you reached for the hem of your top.

Without a second thought, you lifted it over your head, letting the fabric drop to the floor.

Nicholas’ breath hitched. A leopard print lace bra.

Of course, you were wearing something bold, something so you. And you weren’t done.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of your shorts, you wiggled out of them, bending just enough to give him a full view of your clothed pussy before stepping out of them completely.

Nicholas was practically heaving at this point. You peeked over your shoulder, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Close your mouth, Mr. Chavez.”

His lips parted, ready to say something, anything—but nothing came out. You only giggled, climbing onto your bed like nothing had happened, flipping through your phone, legs swinging idly.

Nicholas dragged a hand down his face.

You were toying with him. You had him at your mercy.

And worst of all? It was working.

Nicholas tried to act unaffected. He cleared his throat, shifting his stance like he was preparing to leave. “I- I should head to bed,” he mumbled, though he didn’t move.

You pouted, tilting your head. “Stay,” you said softly. “Just to talk.”

“Talking, huh?”

You nodded, all wide eyed and innocent, stretching your arms over your head in a way that had his gaze flickering lower before he caught himself.

With a sigh, he sat at the edge of your bed while you casually chatted, kicking your feet and twirling your hair around your finger. Your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Do you think I’m a bad girl, Mr. Chavez?” you asked, voice between playful innocence and sultriness.

Nicholas swallowed hard, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the sheet. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Am I?” you whispered, inching closer.

His jaw clenched, every muscle in his body tense. He reached out, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers, his thumb brushing your lower lip. Your breath hitched, the air crackling between you. His thumb parted your lips and in and act of boldness, it slipped pass, finding the wetness in your mouth. With your gaze locked on his, you sucked on his thumb, wrapping your lips around it and swirling your tongue.

His breath hitched. “Fuck.”

He pulled his thumb out and put it into his mouth, sucking the remnants of your saliva.

Just as his lips hovered inches from yours, the sound of the front door downstairs opening made him jolt back. Victoria’s heels clacked against the floor, her sour mood obvious. Catching Nicholas slipping out of your room, his face flushed, she raised a brow, her gaze darting between the two of you.

“Really, Nicholas?” she spat in suspicion and jealousy.

You played innocent, clutching the blanket to your chest. “We were just talking,” you offered sweetly, biting back a grin at how her eyes narrowed further.

Victoria scoffed, crossing her arms. “Is that right? Because it doesn’t seem like that.”

Nicholas stiffened, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re being ridiculous,” he deflected.

Her glare lingered before she finally turned on her heel, muttering something under her breath as she retreated down the hall.

You stretched out on the bed, arching your back, letting the blanket slip just enough to tease. “Goodnight, Mr. Chavez,” you purred.

He gripped the doorknob tightly, caught in the web you had woven. The hallway stretched before him—the master bedroom he shared with his wife on one end, your tantalizing presence on the other.

You glanced at him, eyes sparkling. “Unless, you wanna stay?”

His breath hitched, eyes roaming over you one last time before he finally tore himself away, muttering a strained, “G-goodnight, sweetheart,” as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Left alone, you hugged your pillow, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. If he thought this was over, he was sorely mistaken.

The next morning, you woke up early, making breakfast for Nicholas and the kids. Pancakes, bacon, fresh fruit—you wanted everything to be just right. Madison sat on the counter, swinging her legs while Alexander set the table, and Nicholas leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, just watching you.

“You always cook like this?” he asked, voice still rough from sleep.

You flashed him a playful smile. “Only when I feel like being appreciated.”

After breakfast, you got the kids ready for school, hair brushed, backpacks packed and finally took a moment to get yourself dressed. A crop top, a denim mini skirt, platform sandals, light makeup. When you walked back into the living room, Nicholas was already standing by the door, keys in hand, but his eyes trailed over you slowly, his grip tightening on the keyring.

You smirked, adjusting your skirt. “Too much?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No, you look beautiful.” But deep down, he wanted to say yes—only because he didn’t want anyone looking at you the way he did.

You dropped the kids off at their private school, earning a mix of disapproving side eyes and whispered admiration from the teachers. Nicholas barely looked at anyone, his hand hovering protectively over your lower back as he led you out.

“Want to come with me to set?” he offered once you were back in the car.

“Why not? Not like I have anything better to do.”

The moment you arrived, heads turned. Nicholas had always been the center of attention, but today, all eyes were on you. His hand remained firm on your back as he guided you inside, like he needed everyone to know you were with him.

The team got to work dressing him for the press interview and photoshoot, buttoning a crisp white shirt over his broad chest, rolling the sleeves up just enough to show off his muscular forearms. His jawline looked even sharper under the bright studio lights, his dark hair tousled in that perfect way you loved to see it.

“Wow,” you murmured under your breath, watching as the stylist fussed over his collar.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” Nicholas turned to you, amused.

“Just that you look like—really, really good,” you said, titling your head and smiling.

His smirk deepened. Before you could react, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. The unexpected gesture made warmth bloom in your chest, and you knew he saw the way you grew flustered.

You rolled your eyes but still clapped for him when the cameras started flashing, watching as he moved effortlessly through the shoot. He was a natural and you bit your lip seeing him in his element.

While he was busy, a younger guy, one of the interns, maybe, made his way over to you. He was all easy smiles and smooth compliments, obviously flirting. You laughed, twirling a strand of hair around your finger as he asked for your number.

Nicholas noticed. His expression darkened, his fists clenched. In seconds, he was striding over, his muscular frame practically blocking the guy from view.

“She’s busy,” Nicholas snapped, his voice dangerously low.

The intern blinked, startled. “Oh—I was just—”

“Leaving,” Nicholas finished for him.

“You didn’t have to be mean,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

Nicholas didn’t look away from the guy. “Yeah, I did.”

Smirking, you turned back. “Wait, what was your number again?”

Nicholas turned to you, his voice firm. “Y/N. Let’s go. Now.”

Your expression dropped, irritation creeping in. “Why? Because some guy talked to me?”

“Because I said so,” Nicholas said with a clenched his jaw, grabbing your wrist—not rough, just enough to make you follow.

The ride home was tense. You stared out the window, arms folded, before finally snapping, “It’s not fair.”

He exhaled. “What’s not?”

You turned to him. “You’re married. Am I supposed to just sit around and be sad and lonely while you go home to your wife?”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Y/N, stop.”

“No.”

He glanced at you, his eyes dark. “You’re being a brat.”

You scoffed. “What are you gonna do? Exactly.”

Nicholas exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure. “I’ll take you over my knee when we get home. Don’t test me.”

You rolled your eyes stifling a gasp. “You’re too pussy for that.”

Nicholas was silent for a moment, but his knuckles went white around the steering wheel.

The second you got home, he yanked the car door open, pulling you out and leading you straight inside.

“Hey—” you protested, but he didn’t stop, not until you were in your room, door shut behind you.

He was fuming, eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the heat of his frustration in the air.

“What now, Mr. Chavez?” you swallowed, tilting your chin up defiantly.

“Keep pushing and find out.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest in an attempt to shove him toward the door. “I think I’ll find that cute guy’s Instagram,” you said, just to test him, just to see how far you could push.

Something in Nicholas snapped. Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, sat down on the edge of your bed, and pulled you over his knee with surprising ease. Your breath hitched as you found yourself sprawled across his legs, your hands pressing into the mattress for balance.

“What are you doing, Mr Chavez?” you asked, all innocent.

He let out a slow breath, his palm resting on the small of your back. “What you’ve been needing these past few months,” he murmured, his voice low.

You swallowed, but refused to let him win so easily. “You’re not gonna do it,” you taunted, tilting your head to glance at him from the corner of your eye. “You’re still a—”

The sharp sound of his palm meeting denim cut you off. A gasp left your lips before you could stop it.

“Count,” Nicholas instructed, his voice firm but not unkind.

You hesitated, then exhaled. “One.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your skirt before hiking it up then delivering another. You squirmed, but counted again.

By the time he reached ten, warmth spread across your ass. His hand lingered, soothing over where he’d struck, his fingers tracing patterns as if to calm the sting. Then, without thinking, he pressed a kiss, the contact sending a shiver down your spine.

You shifted in his lap, your hands pressing against his chest as you straddled him, legs on either side of his thighs. Nicholas stilled, his breathing uneven as you settled against him. His hands instinctively found your waist, gripping you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push you away or pull you closer.

His gaze flickered down, something dark and unreadable crossing his face. His fingers trailed lower, finding their way into your underwear and when he realized just how wet you were, a low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he murmured, shaking his head in amusement. “Getting all worked up from being spanked.”

Your whole body warmed. “Shut up,” you muttered, but your breath hitched when, without warning, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled—hard enough to tear the delicate fabric.

“Hey!” you gasped, eyes wide. “That was Victoria’s Secret!”

Nicholas smirked, tossing the ruined fabric aside like it meant nothing. “I’ll take you to the store tomorrow,” he promised, his voice low and smooth. “You can pick out as many as you want.”

His eyes searched yours, his expression shifting into something more serious, more intense. His gaze dropped to your lips, and you could feel the heat radiating between you. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and then—your lips crashed together.

It was wild, needy, weeks—months of tension snapping all at once. Nicholas groaned against your mouth, his hands roaming your back, your waist, your ass, gripping, exploring, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. You kissed him just as desperately, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, not wanting to let go.

When you finally broke apart for air, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together.

Then, before you could react, Nicholas shifted, turning you in one swift movement so that your back was against his chest, your legs draped over his knees. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. A shiver ran through you as he trailed slow, lingering kisses along your skin, his breath warm against your shoulder.

You swallowed, eyes flickering to the standing mirror in front of you. The sight made your stomach flip—Nicholas behind you, his dark eyes hooded with something dangerous, desperate and needy. His lips pressed just beneath your jaw, on your collarbone, your neck, your cheeks, all over, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go.

His breath was unsteady as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit your scent to memory.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, voice rough with restraint. Your hands curled over his arms, your heart pounding. “Maybe,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly, allowing him more access. “But I think I’m starting to.”

Nicholas let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on you tightening just slightly. “You’re a tease.”

You smirked. “But you totally love it.”

He sighed, pressing one last lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I really do.”

With a smirk playing on your lips, you took his hand and placed it right on your pussy, the heat and wetness making him gasp.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice faltering.

“Something that I know we both want to do,” you answered.

As you stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes darkened and you couldn’t help the tiny moan that left your lips as his fingers pressed against your bundle of nerves. The air was charged, both of your breaths heavy as he slowly rubbed your clit.

“Fuck, your moans are just pretty as I imagined,” he whispered in your ear.

As he rubbed your clit slowly, his gaze was laser focused on you in the mirror. He slipped a finger inside you, a gasp leaving your lips, nothing had ever been inside you besides your fingers and his eyebrows furrowed in the mirror before he used his free hand to tilt your head.

“Sweetheart, are you a virgin?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, a bit of embarrassment evident on your face. “Is that like, bad?

“No, no it isn’t, sweetheart. I just didn’t know.” He’d have to think about that and discuss it later, the revelation had definitely surprised him.

All rational thoughts however, had been slapped out of your head when he curled his finger inside you while he rubbed your clit. The pleasure was beyond anything you had ever felt and you squirmed in his lap. He pumped his finger carefully, gradually increasing his pace as he pressed kisses against your neck.

“So fucking tight for me sweetheart,” he said, between kisses.

“Well duh, I’m a v—” Your snarky remark was cut short when he slipped another finger inside your pussy, the sound of squelching filling the room. You could see the cocky smirk on his face in the mirror and your pussy clenched at how hot he looked. Hair tousled, face chiseled, your hot boss was finger fucking you. Your hot married boss at that. And you were enjoying it thoroughly.

“Mr. Chavez,” you gasped, your back arching off his chest, “I’m gonna cum.”

His movements increased and you began squirming away but he held you close, his fingers relentless and he fell back on the bed. You were pressed against his chest on top of him, your moans so loud, it echoed throughout that wing of the mansion.

“Cum for me. Cum all over my fingers sweetheart.”

Your release washed over you, hitting you like a truck and you squirted all over his fingers. He didn’t stop though, Nicholas continued pumping his fingers until he drew every last moan and liquid from you, leaving you utterly spent and a breathless mess in his arms.

He placed you beside him and you watched as he licked his finger clean of your juices. “You taste delicious,” he hummed in delight.

Your cheeks heated and you hid your face in the crook of his neck. He wasn’t having it and he cupped your cheeks so that you were looking at him.

“Are you gonna act like weird again like when we kissed?” you asked, a small pout on your lips.

“I won’t, I promise. And now you have to promise me you’ll keep this a secret.”

“Totally, I promise,” you beamed.

And the affair began.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @emluvsuxo @hopefully-saturn

[darinawrites]

๑-Glares that kill-๑

Pair: In ho x gn!reader

Summary: desperate to let the X side win tomorrow, you go up to an old man to convince him. Who knew he could be so snarky? Yet, when his hand lifted, another stopped him (In-ho standing up for you).

A/n: this was written while waiting for a bus that came 2 HOURS late in the freezing cold, so this is probably a bit rushed. I hate this, honestly. But for writing with thumbs that were about to fall off from the cold, I'll take it.

Word count: 1.2k

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ

You felt sick, utterly sick. Watching the numbers get bigger on the O side, anxiety going up everytime someone strode down to the button. A sigh of either relief or disappointment echoing in your ear once the button was clicked.

You simply didn't understand it. You didn't understand why people thought so lowly of their life to throw it away. You've seen both sides try to talk some sense into each other, but at las it never worked. Simply stabbing their words into each others veins, trying to get it deep enough to convince them. It felt like watching a zoo seeing it happen.

You couldn't even bare to watch the count anymore, everyone's choice to pick O so enigmatic to you. Gaze on the floor each time a new number was called, a number nearing yours. A feeling of betrayal rushing trough you each time a person beside you picked to stay, picking for your death.

You didn't trust your ears once the number sewed into your tracksuit was called, too engrossed with your thoughts. You stood still for a moment before feeling the familiar gaze of everyone set on you. You sighed, walking as everyone watched with meticulous detail on your hand that now loomed over the two buttons presented to you.

Letting your eyes stare at the immense difference of votes displayed above you, eyes glistening as all drops of hope vanished from your body. You felt so hopeless, your opinion so puny. What difference would this one number make?

Regardless, you picked X, all types of reactions ringing in your ear as you left the platform and found a spot on the side you chose. Some people around gave you hopeful smiles, but you couldn't return them. Shoulders slumped, only a few votes left before the decision was made. A very obvious decision.

The rest of the voting time was a blur, not being able to focus on anything. The thought that you'd have to play another childrens game tomorrow made you want to throw up. You didn't want to die, you didn't want blood staining your clothes.

But the others didn't care. Loud cheering mixed in with the groans once the voice on the speaker announced another game tomorrow. There's nothing you could do about it now, the pink guards cleaning everything up as the rest sat down.

Having not aquatinted yourself with anyone, you leaned against a wall by yourself in the corner. Contemplating all the different emotions whirling inside your head.

If you somehow lived tomorrow, there'd still be another vote. You had to make sure there's at least a tie between the two sides. Maybe you could convince some people to vote X, to let yourself not feel so useless.

The problem now lies between the selfishness and persistence of the people. The luminous piggy bank above you controlling these people to act like lunatics.

But, with a mellifluous voice and a logical explanation, you could convince them. Right? They still had to have something beneath the nefarious facade. Even if it didn't, a try is still something.

Stepping off the wall, you tried finding the nearest O's. It seems like your luck ran out though, the person being the the persistent and loud old man, surrounding himself with the little group of minions he made.

It'll definitely be a a hard task, but also something that could benefit the votes a lot. Sighing, you just had to act scrupulous this one time. A tinge of hope coming back as you walked over to the group.

You couldn't deny your nervousness with their creepy stares, but you hid it and started to, respectfully, show them the 'wrong' in voting O. Before you could even finish, you were rudely interrupted by a scoff.

"Oh, please. Just because you're scared doesn't mean my vote is going to change." glaring at the old man, or rather player 100 as he completely ignored all the sensible argument you made with just one sentence.

Furrowing your eyebrows, reminding yourself to stay respectful, you tried to speak up again. "But sir. Have you not lis-""

Just look at yourself. Weak and pathetic, of course you'd pick X. We're not going to fall for it." you were rudely interrupted. A young man beside player 100 loudly calling you weak, now catching the attention of the people surrounding you.

You tried to restrain yourself, lashing out wouldn't help your case. Especially with a newly found crowd now joining in. Yet it felt like talking with a wall. The group not letting you speak properly, dismissing your words and even insulting you. Every loud snarky remark coming out of their mouth made more and more heads turn to your way.

"Fucking bastards.." you muttered under your breath, completely done with them. Their side is simply too coarse and violent to deal with. Foolish to think you could start anything with them.

"You want to repeat that?" one of the men spoke up, now standing in front of you to emphasize his threat. Must've said your thoughts too loudly, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

The scoff that you let out in response ticked him off, apparently. Twitching his eye as he raised his hand. You closed your eyes as your arms flinched to your face, fear now rushing in at the sudden aggression.

Gasps filled your ear, but no pain rang out. Slowly opening your eyes, you could see a tight grip on the man who wanted to hit you. Glancing at your savior, you could see the number '001' on the tracksuit.

"That's enough." the words coldly lingered, his stare sharp. The silent that followed after was eery, everyone baffled at the actions.

The men seemed to get the memo. Intimidated, they slowly walked away with fire in their eyes. A sigh was let out in relief, you were sure to get bruises if they stayed even a second longer.

"Hey, miss. Are you alright?" the same voice that stood up for you called out.

You've seen the guy before, being the reason you've had to endure another game today. It made you resent him, truthfully. But you must've judged wrong with the way he saved you today. Especially since a red patch was given to him while voting.

"I'm fine. Thank you for helping me out there." smiling softly as you bowed your head a bit out of gratitude, causing him to have an enchanting smile plastered on his face.

"No one in here knows how to respect anyone. You should stay away from that side, unnecessary arguments will only worsen things."

The chattering of the players shooed the tension from before, continuing like normal as you spoke with the stranger that helped you more. His eyes lingering on yours far too much everytime you spoke, but you didn't mind. It felt nice to have a sincere conversation with someone here, his jokes even letting you giggle, a feeling you've missed since stepping into this place.

It was only once the guards came back did your enjoyable conversation end. The announcement of food suddenly reminding you of your empty stomach, rumbling for anything to satiate it.

"Ah, seems like they finally decided to give us something. Let's see what they have." he grabbed your hand, a small blush creeping on your cheek once you feel his strong grip on you, quickly pulling you to the line.

Must his hand feel so warm? It was basically engulfing you, heat seeping into your freezing fingers. It felt so oddly intimate, the act making your stomach churn, but not in hunger. Looking up to see him, you realized he was staring at you, giving a small smile before adverting his gaze.

You slightly squeezed his hand, the hand that helped you from those lunatics. The hand that made you forget the horrors of this place, just for a moment.

[rhiannonsknife]

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

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

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

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

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

“lucy…”

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

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“a woman?” you supply.

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

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

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

lucy sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

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

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

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re beautiful,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bambisnc]

          . . swimming through the cherry sky

° ˖ ➴ “forget whatever you think you knew. vampires exist.”

### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ suggestive? + 1.3k // unedited + roommate trope + blood drinking ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ vamki enthusiasts hi + alt vrs hidden somewhere in txt + [m.list]

you've had your suspicions for a while now. the irregular, conspicuous late nights. the stains that eerily resemble dried blood and something else you can’t quite name but feel in your bones. an instinct that something was odd.

but bless your heart, you just can't bring yourself to actually accuse your roommate, nishimura riki, of anything.

besides, what would you have even said, anyway? 

"hey, roommate! what a wonderful day it is today, huh? the weather sure is … happening! by the way, if i may ask, is there any chance that you might be a bloodthirsty, monstrous creature? just curious haha!"

yeah. that wouldn't work. obviously.

not that you had the ability to even stay in the same room as him long enough to put together a few coherent words. but merely the air around him was enough to have shivers running down your spine. and yet, the worst part of it all? 

he’s never actually tried anything to cause harm to you. never once warranted your fears. which only makes you feel like you’re losing your damn mind.

so you do the only thing you can do. watch from a distance; observe. bide your time and keep trying to piece things together while ensuring to stay as far away as you possibly can. which, considering you live together, is pretty much next to impossible.

and then, after months of feeling like the tension would just about eat you alive, something finally happens. 

it had been a relatively slow day. your roommate had kept to himself as usual, doing nothing out of the ordinary. nothing you could consider hard proof, that is. 

having decided on an early night for yourself, you were in bed, adorned with comfortable night clothes. that was when you’d heard it. 

a dull thump! 

followed up, as if on cue, by a low, guttural groan. the pain in the raspy noise was clear enough to make your stomach twist. against your better judgement, curse you for being soft-hearted, you leave the comfort the safety of your room and towards the adjacent hallway. the door in front of you was slightly ajar, ink like shadows spilling out.

and then you see him.

hunched over, collapsed by the edge of his bed, barely able to hold himself up. riki looks too pale – ashen, almost, like all the warmth has been drained from his body. his breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps. he looks like he’s seconds from death’s door.

your entrance wasn’t as quiet as you’d meant for it to be however. he lifts his head, with a considerable amount of exertion, letting his gaze – dark, unreadable – meet yours. when he speaks, it’s hushed. completely unlike the usual confident drawl he uses otherwise. 

“it’s dangerous for you to be in here when i’m like this.”

“what-” you swallow down all the questions bubbling inside your throat. “... are you okay?..”

sure, this was probably the only opportunity you’d have with him this vulnerable but, you can’t bring yourself to take advantage of his weakened state. you venture a little closer to him, to properly be able to appraise his condition, despite your entire being begging you not to.

barely being able to hear his answer, you lean closer still to be able to pick up on the yet again hesitant, reluctant mumble, “i … haven’t fed in a while.”

your heart goes cold. you can all but feel the blood rushing into your ears as you struggle to process what riki just said. obviously, he doesn’t mean that in the literal sense. right?

but before you can even reach a conclusion, decide whether or not to let your flight instinct take control and rush out of here, call someone, anyone for help — with a fluid motion, you find your positions completely switched.

your back meets the hard edge of the bed with a jolt. he kneels in front of you now, towering. his frame eclipses yours, one arm braced on the bed, the other steadying himself on the floor. you can tell he isn’t even putting much effort, but he’s able to cage you in without even trying. no longer can you delude yourself into thinking you have any semblance of control over the situation. 

there’s no mistaking it. not with that look in his eyes, the pupils fast dilating – were they always tinged that slight shade of … red? there can be no more excuses, no more pretending that you’re just being paranoid. because this … 

… this is real.

“this isn’t happening. it can’t be.” you whisper, as if saying it out loud will manifest it into existence. as if it’ll wake you up from whatever bad fever dream this is.

he looks almost amused, for a second. lips twitching as if he finds your denial to be funny. 

and then he’s leaning in closer, closer until … something sharp grazes against your delicate neck. your breath hitches sharply at the sensation. 

“forget whatever you think you knew.” his voice is steadier than it was earlier. more certain, more sure of itself. “vampires exist.” ...

where riki’s lips ghost over your neck, his touch is featherlight but somehow still constricting. he tilts your head slightly, movements agonizingly slow exposing it even more to himself.

“can i?..” his voice is strained, as he grits out the words but you appreciate the warning. 

even if it might not be of any actual meaning, “do i have a choice?”

“not really, no. i’m sorry.” 

and then, a sharp, electric sting as his fangs pierce your skin.

the pain flashes for only a moment, though, before a haze-like dizziness takes its place. sinking into your bones, making your limbs go weaker than they felt before.

his free hand shifts from the floor – after he gains some semblance of his former strength, you assume – and he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the living world. it’s a strange sensation, to say the least. the action is rhythmic, if nothing else. 

only when a soft, barely audible gasp escapes you does he pull away, fangs retracting. 

his tongue licks against the open wound in what you would only later discover was supposed to be a means to soothe. before you even realize it, you’re reaching for him, clutching onto his shirt, albeit rather weakly in some sort of attempt of grounding yourself.

you don’t know what to say about it. you don’t even know how to feel.

but what you do know is that he’s still looking at you. eyes dark, lips stained red with your blood, chest rising and falling like he’s just barely holding himself together. 

looking at him like this, it’s clear as day that he needs more. the struggle, the desperation, the way he seems to be at war with himself. 

so you do what any good roommate would do, the words leaving you before you can second guess your decision. you offer yourself to him. 

“take what you need.”

his expression flickers. hesitation, shock, relief, aching. “you don’t have to—” he sounds like he wants to refuse, like he knows he should refuse. 

but when you tilt your head back slightly, just enough for the previous mark to be visible, you practically hear his resolve crack.

riki presses in close again, with more an ease this time and as the alien sensation you’re growing more and more familiar to takes over, you exhale a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“you.. fuck.” his voice is muffled between slow, languid sucks – unhurried, this time. more deliberate. “you’re a terrible roommate.” 

you huff out as best as you can, in your (slightly lightheaded) condition “hah... why is that?”  a pause. his thumb swipes over the place his lips had been seconds earlier, as if reassuring himself of your pulse. “because this means i owe you.”

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[revscarecrow]

Hi Rev! That time is upon us once again, do you have any tips for first time protesters?

1. Wear nice walking shoes cause you are going to be out there for a bit and your feet will hurt.

2. Have a game plan. Are you down to get physical? Are you able to be arrested? No shame in saying no. I'm not much for physical altercations with the police myself. But you need to make that decision before your blood starts boiling. The energy is infectious and will lead you to make mob mentality decisions. Remember what you decided and don't go beyond that limit.

3. Weather appropriate precautions. If it's hot bring sun screen and water if it's cold bring a coat. It's simple but most of what I did as a street medic was giving people water or blankets.

4. Have a number you will call if you get arrested. Memorize it or write it on your arm in sharpie. Mom dad lawyer friend whatever. Someone for if things go tits up.

5. Cops don't like being filmed doing messed up stuff but they will do it. Violence comes after dark. The news won't stand around all day so after some b roll and an interview or two they will go home. Then they can interview the cops in the morning where they can say a couple of bad actors caused a scene and they were arrested but largely the protest was peaceful (or was a riot if you aren't white). This will be an easy way for them to get away with kicking your ass. This happens every time a protest goes long.

6. Go with a friend. It just feels good to have someone you know watching out for you.

7. Have an escape plan and park your car a bit away from the protest. They like to camp out the local parking areas to catch protestors who evaded the police cordon.

8. Password lock your phone. Don't use biometrics. A password lock keeps the cops out when they arrest you. They can't force you to give that information.

9. Cops don't like lefties. If you are not a right wing loser they do not give a shit about your rights.

10. Most of this shit will not come up for your first protest but I want to prepare you for the wildest shit so you are ready for it when it happens.

11. People will yell at your from cars etc. Fuck em. People will say your protest doesn't matter. Fuck em.

12. Your protest isn't just about trying to get the government to do whatever. It's mostly about making connections. It would be rad if the government caves but it's not likely until your protest reaches a critical mass. If your numbers can be ignored they will be.

13. For your first time protest just go have fun. Don't stay out late or get physical just do a simple version. Do the chanting and make friends. Like with any group there will be creeps so be on the look out for that but most of those people are gonna be cool people.

14. Thank you. We need people who are out there doing the things. Make connections we've gotten so distant and it makes us easier to fuck with.

[silent-stories]

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: based on this.

Noah felt it before you even said a word.

That something sitting between you, like you were about to say something that was going to change everything. You were curled up on the couch, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve, your knee pulled up to your chest like you were trying to make yourself smaller. That wasn’t normal.

And then you spoke.

"I got a job offer."

His fingers stilled around the beer bottle, grip tightening just enough that he could feel the condensation slide against his skin. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t trust himself to. "Yeah?"

"In another city."

The words hit harder than he expected.

For a second, just one, he let himself think about what that meant—about this house without you in it, about days without your voice filling the empty spaces, about knowing you were somewhere else, somewhere new, somewhere without him.

And it made his stomach fucking sink.

But you didn’t belong here, did you? You never had.

You weren't his and he wasn't yours. All you had ever been was just friends.

He always knew you’d go. He just never thought it would be so soon.

You kept talking, explaining—something about better pay, bigger opportunities, a smart move. Noah heard it all, but it was like listening through static, every word just another reminder that this was real. That this was happening. That you weren’t just thinking about leaving. You were already halfway gone.

And what was he supposed to do? What was he allowed to do?

Because yeah, maybe he thought about it. Maybe he thought about pulling you in, pressing his forehead against yours, telling you he didn’t want you to go. That he needed you here, that he—

And then, for the first time, it really hit him.

He never told you. Never fucking told you.

Not when he first realized that the way he looked at you wasn’t the way a friend should. Not when you laughed at his dumb jokes, and he caught himself staring at your smile like it was something he could get addicted to, wishing he could bottle up the sound of your laughter, save it for the nights when the silence felt too heavy—when you weren’t there to fill the space beside him.

Not when you fell asleep on his shoulder during long car rides, and he stayed perfectly still, barely breathing, just to make the moment last a little longer. Not when he watched you dance around the kitchen in his hoodie, not when he felt his heart ache just being near you.

Not when he should have.

Not when it would’ve mattered.

And now, sitting here, the words he should’ve said—I like you. No, I love you. More than a friend. More than anyone—were useless. Too late. You were already slipping through his fingers, and he had no one to blame but himself.

So he stayed quiet. Because what was the fucking point now?

What was he supposed to do—throw everything at you now, at the last second, when you had a whole future waiting for you? When you were basically already half out the door? When he had every chance before, and he wasted them all?

No. That wasn’t fair.

Not to you. Not to the life you were about to build. Not to the love he’d never had the guts to give you.

So he bit his tongue. Kept his hands in his lap so he wouldn’t reach for you. Forced his voice steady as he said, "You should take it."

And fuck—he hated how easy it sounded. Hated that it came out smooth when his chest felt like it was caving in.

You hesitated. He could feel you watching him.

"You think?"

Noah swallowed hard, leaned forward, let his eyes settle on the floor instead of your face. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds like a great opportunity." Another shrug. Another lie. "You’d be an idiot not to."

The silence that followed was the worst part.

Because he could feel it—the shift, the way something between you cracked, just slightly, just enough that he knew it wouldn’t go back to how it was.

He tried to imagine what it would feel like to be around someone else the way he was with you. He’d never been able to picture anyone else in your place, never wanted to. You were a part of him now, you were the person who knew him best, the one he always leaned on when things got heavy, the one he could rely on when everything else felt like it was falling apart, the one who always answered his texts sent in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep.

And now you were walking away. And he couldn’t imagine filling that gap.

The comfort of having you around, the steady presence of your friendship, even if it had always just been friendship, was something he never thought would disappear. It was just always there. And it was hard, almost impossible, to wrap his head around the fact that it might never be like that again.

How would he ever find that again? He couldn’t even begin to picture it. And the worst part? He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to. You were it. And now, as he sat there, heart heavy with the weight of what he couldn’t say, of what he had never had the guts to tell you, he knew that he had just let you slip through his fingers. The easy, effortless thing they had—the laughter, the comfort, the quiet moments, the understanding—was something he couldn’t replicate. Not with anyone. Not now. Not ever.

"Right," you said, voice quiet. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

Noah didn’t move. Didn’t look at you.

Because if he did—if he saw the way you were looking at him, if he saw even the smallest flicker of doubt in your eyes—he knew he’d break.

And if he broke, he’d beg you to stay.

So instead, he just sat there, fingers gripping the beer bottle like it was the only thing holding him together, and let you slip further away.

A few days later, you were sitting on the leather couch in the living room of the house you’d spent so many nights in again.

Folio was giving you one of his usual "don’t forget" lists—one that had become a comforting part of your routine over the years for all the times you went on a tour or trip together. This time, however, it sounded different, as if it was the last.

"Okay, remember to pack all your jackets. And the extra batteries for your camera. Oh, and make sure you’ve got your phone charger, you always forget it!" He waved his hands in the air as though he was trying to remind you of the most crucial thing in the world, like the fate of the universe rested on you not forgetting your phone charger.

You chuckled, leaning back on the couch, a small smile tugging at your lips as you gave him a playful eye roll. "Yeah, yeah, I got it, Nick. I’ll pack everything. No need to worry."

Folio grinned. "Good. You know I worry." He paused, then his tone softened, almost hesitant, like he was preparing to say something serious. "I’m really going to miss having you around. It won’t be the same without you here."

The words hit you harder than you expected. You had been preparing yourself for this goodbye for days, but hearing him say it out loud made it real, made it feel final. You swallowed, forcing a smile. "I’ll miss you guys too. And don’t worry, I’ll send plenty of pictures. And I’m sure I’ll come back to visit."

Folio nodded. "Yeah, of course. And we’ll come to visit you, too. So you don't forget us." He said it with such certainty that for a brief moment, you let yourself believe it—believe that things could stay the same, even when you knew they couldn’t.

But as Folio finished his sentence, you glanced over at Noah. He had been sitting at the other end of the room, quietly listening, but now he abruptly stood up, his movements stiff and awkward, as though something had snapped in him.

Noah didn’t say anything, just turned toward the door and walked out without a word. His departure felt like a heavy silence in the room.

You blinked, watching him leave, confused. "Did I say something wrong?" you asked softly.

Folio didn’t seem surprised by Noah’s reaction, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "It’s been like that for a couple of days now," he said, his voice low. "I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s been… off. Something’s going on in his head, but he won’t talk about it."

You felt a knot form in your stomach.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had acted the first time you spoke about the job offer. That cold, almost detached response, like he had no opinion on the matter at all. You replayed it in your mind over and over: "You should take it. Sounds like a great opportunity." But something in the way he said it—something in the way he couldn’t even look at you when he spoke—made you wonder if there was more to his reaction than he let on. Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he hate you for making the decision to leave?

You tried to push those thoughts away, but they kept creeping back. It was impossible, you told yourself. He couldn’t possibly hate you. Because you were just friends, right?

But just friends never felt like the right term for what you two had. Not for the long nights you spent talking, for the way you always seemed to understand each other without saying a word, for how comfortable you felt in his presence—like you were home when he was around. It had never been just friendship for you. Not really. Maybe it had started that way, but over time, something shifted. You couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but you’d always known that your feelings for him ran deeper than what you were supposed to admit.

You thought back to that first time you’d met him, to the way he’d walked toward you with that easy, confident stride but still looking so damn shy. You liked his long hair t, and his eyes—those brown eyes, warm and sweet—that had locked onto yours in that instant.

He had smiled, and you’d felt it all the way down to your bones. It was like something clicked, something undeniable. That’s when you knew, even if you didn’t have the courage to admit it then, that there was something about him that made your heart race.

And all these years, that same feeling never really went away. Not when he touched your hip for a second to grab a cup from a high shelf you couldn’t reach, not when he would pass you the last slice of pizza even though he was starving, not when you’d sit together in silence and it never felt uncomfortable.

You told yourself over and over that it was just a crush, that you were just friends, but every time he touched you, every time his hand brushed yours or he’d take your hand in his while walking through a crowded space, your heart would skip.

And when he would hold your hand, you’d feel the heat flood your face, and when he was on the stage and his eyes locked with yours for a moment, it was like the world disappeared. It was just the two of you.

Did he ever notice?

Did he ever feel what you felt? Was it possible he ever sensed the way your heart raced when he would grab your hand, as if the world didn’t matter and you two existed in your own little bubble just for a while? You wondered if maybe, just maybe, he’d caught the way your breath would hitch when he’d look at you with those brown eyes, like you were the only person in the room.

But now, all of that was left in the past. You were about to leave, and nothing between you two was ever going to change. You were just friends.

You thought about getting up and going after him. But what could you say? "I'm sorry I'm leaving?"

He was the first person to tell you to take that job, it wouldn't have made sense. So you stayed there.

The day had finally come. It felt surreal, the finality of it weighing on you as you stood in front of the door, ready to say your goodbyes. You had spent the last few days avoiding the inevitable, pretending like you still had time, still had something to hold onto. But now, as you stood there, your suitcase in your car and your heart feeling like it was somewhere deep inside your chest, the reality of leaving was all too clear.

You walked into the living room, where the band was gathered. They were all quieter than usual. Folio was the first to greet you, giving you one of his bear hugs that made you feel both comforted and sad at the same time. “Take care of yourself, alright?” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Don’t forget the pictures. And don’t be a stranger.” You nodded, blinking back the sudden lump in your throat.

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” you managed to say, your voice wavering a little.

Then, one by one, the others came over to say goodbye.

“Don’t forget us,” Matt said, pulling you into a quick hug. “I'll miss the food you made for us.”

You laughed and pushed him away as he pretended to be hurt.

Finally, there was Noah. He was standing a little apart from the group, his hands in his pockets. He didn’t approach you right away, and you weren’t sure why that felt different. But when your eyes met his, his gaze softened, and you could see something unsaid flickering in his eyes.

He stepped forward slowly, pulling you into his arms, and for a moment, you didn’t want to let go. You hugged him tightly, the warmth of his body against yours a reminder of all the small moments you’d shared over the years. You could hear his breath, steady and calm, like he was trying to hold onto this moment too.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, and the quiet between you both felt almost too much to bear.

“I’m really going to miss you,” you whispered, your voice cracking just slightly.

Noah gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His hand lifted, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face, a touch so tender it made your heart ache.

“I’ll miss you too,” he said softly, then, without saying another word, he kissed the top of your head.

You only looked at him for a few seconds before taking a step back, as if if you stayed longer, it would only hurt more.

Then, you finally turned toward the door, ready (or maybe not) to leave and start something new. But you also knew, deep down, that no matter where life took you, a part of you would always be right here, with them. And with him.

About two hours later, Noah was sitting on the edge of the couch, his leg bouncing up and down nervously, the restless energy radiating off him like a low hum. His gaze was distant, unfocused, as if he was somewhere miles away from where he actually was, lost in thoughts that seemed impossible to escape.

Nick, who had been trying to make sense of the silence in the room, finally broke it. "What's going on with you?" he asked, eyeing Noah with a raised brow.

Matt, who had been observing Noah for a while, leaned forward, a knowing look crossing his face. "It's about Y/N, right?"

Jolly, sitting across from them, raised an eyebrow. "Y/N?" he echoed, confused, like he hadn’t caught on.

Matt shot him a look as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course, it’s Y/N. He’s been in love with her since the first time he saw her."

Nick blinked, a little stunned. "What? And you never told me?" He looked genuinely surprised, a slight hint of betrayal in his voice.

Folio let out a smug little laugh. "Ah! I knew it. I ducking knew it!"

Noah, who had been tuning them out, suddenly snapped back to reality. He stood up, his frustration bubbling over. "Enough. You’re not helping," he interrupted, his voice louder than usual, the words spilling out in a rush. "I fucked up. I let her go. I feel like shit. Because…" He hesitated, but it was like the weight of it was too much to keep in. "Because I love her. I’ve loved her for years. And when she told me about the job… I thought it was too late to say anything." He shook his head. "I’m such an idiot. I'm such a fucking idiot."

"Yeah, you are." Said Folio, who had been waiting for the confession.

"It’s not too late." Jolly spoke.

Noah turned to him, shaking his head with a defeated look in his eyes. "Yeah, it is. She’s gone."

Matt glanced at his watch. "Her flight hasn’t left yet," he said, his voice steady, as if offering a lifeline Noah hadn’t considered.

Noah froze, his eyes wide for just a moment before the doubt came crashing in. "I can’t do it," he muttered.

Nick leaned forward, a serious expression on his face. "Do you love her?" he asked, not bothering with any other words, just cutting straight to the core of it.

Without thinking, Noah nodded immediately. "Yes," he said, his voice barely a whisper but resolute. "Yes, I love her."

Nick didn’t waste any time. "Then go," he said, his voice firm. "Go fucking get her."

The words hung in the air, and for a split second, Noah didn’t move. He was caught in all his own doubts, his fears, his regrets. But then, something clicked. Maybe it was Nick’s certainty, maybe it was the look in his friends’ eyes, but Noah felt it—he had to go. If he didn’t, he would regret it forever.

He had nothing to lose.

Noah never thought he’d be that guy—the one who ditches his car in traffic, sprints through a crowded airport, and makes a total fool of himself in the name of love. And yet, here he is, running through the terminal, heart hammering in his chest, lungs burning with every breath, because you’re about to board a plane and leave, and he can’t let that happen.

Traffic had been his worst enemy, but he didn’t care. His car had been left behind in the middle of the arrivals lane, engine still running. The thought of you, suitcase packed and ready to leave, was all he could focus on. Every second spent on the road felt like an eternity, but he had to get to you.

He run through the airport.

He narrowly avoided a child who’s been skipping along, then almost tripped over a suitcase abandoned in the middle of the aisle. He bumped into people left and right, his shoulder knocking into a couple who glared at him as he shouted, “Sorry! Sorry, I’m in a hurry!” He didn't wait for their response, didn't care. His focus was on you only.

He cut through crowds, hands brushing against strangers as he weaved between them, the sound of his own breath growing louder in his ears. Another wave of people blocked his path, and he barely managed to swerve, knocking into a woman holding a cup of coffee. It splashed across the floor, the warm liquid spreading out in a wide arc.

“Watch where you’re going!” she yelled.

"I'm so sorry! It's important, I swear!"

The overhead announcement blared, sharp and unrelenting. Final boarding call for Flight 237, please... He didn’t hear the rest. His mind was focused on one thing: You. The gate was in sight. There you were, standing at the counter, your ticket in hand, a look of quiet resolve on your face, your eyes scanning the people around you.

"Wait!"

Heads turned. People gasped. A security guard stepped forward as Noah sprinted toward you, chest heaving, his breath coming out in ragged bursts.

"Don’t go," he blurted out, his voice raw with desperation.

Your brows furrowed as you turned to face him. "Noah, what—?"

He took a step closer, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to confess everything he’d kept locked away for years. "I love you," he said, the words tumbling out, frantic and real. "I fucking love you," He could barely keep his breath steady as he looked at you, his heart thundering in his chest. "And I know—I know I should’ve said this sooner, that I should’ve told you everything before it got to this point. I should’ve been braver, I should’ve figured it out sooner, but I didn’t. I’ve been so damn stupid, too scared to say what I’ve been feeling because I never wanted to mess this up. But I can’t—I can’t let you go without telling you, because if I don’t, I’m going to lose you, and I can’t lose you."

He ran a hand through his hair, "I know I don’t deserve a second chance. Hell, I probably don’t deserve even one, not after all the times I avoided the truth, but please—please don’t get on that plane. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. It scares the shit out of me, honestly, because I’ve let you slip through my fingers, and I’ve never been more afraid of anything in my life than losing you."

He took a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. "Please, just… give me a chance. Don’t go. We can figure this out. You and me, together. I’ve been an idiot for not telling you this sooner, but I know now—I know what I want. And it’s you. It’s always been you. Just don’t walk away from me. Not when I finally have the guts to tell you that I have been in love with you since the first moment I saw you."

There was a moment of silence.

You were sure that a girl was filming the scene, ready to post it on tiktok, probably without even knowing who Noah was.

The security guard took a step toward him, but Noah didn’t flinch. “Sir, you can’t be here—”

"Just give me one second," he said with his eyes locked on yours, pleading.

You stared at him for a moment, a mixture of shock and disbelief in your eyes. Then, as if the weight of his words hit you all at once, your ticket slipped from your fingers and hit the ground. Without thinking, you grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss.

It wasn’t like the movies—there wasn’t a crowd cheering or anything like that. Just the hum of the airport and the soft murmur of an old woman sitting nearby, who, after a brief pause, simply gave a small smile as she went back to reading her book. It made you almost laugh, the absurdity of it all.

Noah smiled against your lips, the warmth of your kiss sinking into his chest.

“You are such an idiot,” you murmured, smiling through the kiss, your hand gently resting on his cheek.

“But an idiot you love, right?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the affection in your gaze. "Yeah, you idiot. An idiot I love."

You both shared one last smile before you pulled away, glancing back toward the gate. The security guard had stepped back, his hands raised in surrender.

Noah took your hand, leading you out of the airport, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

As you walked with him, you couldn’t help but tease him a little. "I never thought you’d pull the 80s movie move to tell me you love me."

Noah gave you a sheepish grin. "At least the security didn’t tackle me."

You laughed, the sound light and free, as the two of you walked through the terminal, together.

"You should write a song on that, you know?"

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

[saebyeokbliss]

trust me on this one. professor!saebyeok/reader

PICTURE YOU

synopsis: sae-byeok is your professor. what happens when the professional, incredibly attractive teacher you've been pining over in secret reciprocates? warnings: teacher/student romantic relationship, tiny angst if you squint

pairing: professor!sae-byeok x fem!student!reader

a/n: oh i trusted and did it. now I'm obsessed

Sae-byeok is a young, brilliant professor at Seoul National University (SNU), teaching Comparative Politics with a focus on global systems of inequality and power dynamics.

Her reputation precedes her: she’s strict but fair, incredibly sharp, and always composed. She’s also insanely beautiful, which has earned her a quiet fanbase of admirers on campus.

You’re a second-year student majoring in Political Science who signed up for her class because of her stellar reputation.

You didn’t expect her to be… this. The first time she walked into the lecture hall, her presence was magnetic. She was all sharp cheekbones, dark, intense eyes, and a voice that commanded attention.

You’re sitting in the middle row, trying to be invisible, but Professor Kang Sae-byeok’s eyes scan the room like a hawk. Despite yourself, you can’t help but be drawn to the way she carries herself—calm authority in every step.

During one of her lectures, she asks a question about the intersection of political theory and economic disparity. You hesitantly raise your hand, and to your surprise, she seems genuinely interested in your answer.

After class, she stops you briefly. “That was a good point,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You should speak up more often.”

You start attending her office hours to ask about assignments, but it becomes clear that the two of you share a love for deep philosophical debates. Conversations flow effortlessly, and you begin to see glimpses of the person behind the professional exterior.

Sae-byeok is reserved, but the way her lips twitch into the smallest smile when you say something clever sends your heart racing.

One day, you run into her outside campus—she’s at a bookstore downtown, flipping through a thick hardcover. She looks surprised to see you but doesn’t brush you off. Instead, she spends a few minutes talking about her favorite authors. You leave the encounter feeling giddy, clutching the book she recommended.

There’s also the time you bump into her in the hallway, and she catches your arm to steady you. It’s nothing, really, but her hand lingers for just a second too long.

You start noticing the way her gaze lingers on you in class, just for a moment longer than anyone else.

She always finds a way to give you thoughtful feedback on your work, and it feels more personal than it should.

It happens late one evening, after you’ve stayed behind to help her organize papers for a conference she’s attending. The room is quiet, the golden glow of the desk lamp casting soft shadows.

“You shouldn’t spend so much time here,” she says, her tone gentle but strained. “People will talk.”

You hesitate before replying. “And if I don’t care about what they say?”

She looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, her composure cracks. “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I do,” you insist, stepping closer. “I think about you all the time, Professor Kang.”

For a moment, there’s only silence. Then, quietly, she admits, “You think I don’t feel the same?”

From that night on, everything changes. You and Sae-byeok begin seeing each other in secret.

She’s cautious, always reminding you of the risks—her career, your future—but she can’t seem to stay away from you.

Late-night study sessions in her office turn into stolen kisses. You text each other under the guise of “academic discussions,” but the messages are laced with longing.

On weekends, she takes you to quiet, out-of-the-way places where no one would recognize her.

Sae-byeok struggles with the morality of it all. She’s your professor, after all, and the power dynamic weighs heavily on her mind.

“You deserve someone who can love you freely,” she says one night, her voice breaking. “Not someone who has to hide you.”

But you refuse to let her go. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want you.”

Eventually, you both agree to keep things discreet until you’re no longer in her class.

The secrecy is thrilling but also exhausting, and it tests your relationship in ways you didn’t expect.

When the semester ends, and you’re no longer her student, she finally lets herself love you without restraint. The first time she takes your hand in public, you feel like you’re floating.

It’s a rainy night, and you’re at her apartment, sitting cross-legged on the couch while she grades papers. The sound of the rain against the windows fills the space, and she looks impossibly soft without her usual professional armor—her hair tied back loosely, reading glasses perched on her nose.

“You’re staring,” she says without looking up, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

“Well, what can I say?” you reply, and she finally glances at you, her eyes warm in a way that makes your chest ache.

Sae-byeok sets the papers aside and leans over, cupping your face in her hands. “You’re impossible,” she murmurs, but the way she kisses you says otherwise.

[envy-of-the-apple]

I've been reading all your jjk works and notice most of them having older mc. You wrote gojo with an older woman a lot, how about doing geto with middle age jujutsu teacher

Mc is not strong and barely considered a jujutsu sorcerer with her ct that basically numbs her or others senses like a potent anesthetic, its not really useful in a fight but the best thing for geto. With her ct she can numb his taste buds completely and he never has to taste the disgusting curse ball ever again. And plus mc is actually a really nice and caring teacher. The kind of teacher that uses different study methods to suit different students. The kind of teacher that immediately pick up when students are feeling down. But when geto expresses how much he is fond of her not just as her student she takes it as puppy love that he will soon get over it when he gets older and she only saw him as her student. She said something like "maybe when you graduate we can have this talk again" and geto took it to heart only for his beloved teacher getting purpose from other people(non-sorcer that you happened to help one time). Oh... How sad he is... He thought you would wait for him. And you would finally become part of his family with nanako and mimiko after all you help him raise both of them why are you leaving for some Monkey

I like this idea! But what about making the Mc a nurse instead???

(TW: Blood, implied murder, yandere)

You aren’t even a trained jujutsu sorcerer. You were scouted pretty late, far past high school. Because of that, you don’t have much potential, not that you were upset or anything. You’re still a high school nurse, but instead of treating students with the occasional flu, you treat teenagers who fight demons.

It’s pretty haunting to see, especially as an outsider of jujutsu. But you can’t do anything. You might be semi-important to the school, but you’re still just another rung on the ladder. So you keep your head down, as you always do.

It’s only natural you develop favorites. It’s a second year. Shoko Ieiri. She’s set to be your predecessor, having a much more powerful CT than you do. You don’t mind being in her shadow. The short time you spent in the jujutsu world was hard enough. At least now you know you wont be leaving behind a hole.

Geto is close behind. He’s a quiet boy, well-mannered, well-spoken. Far better than his white haired brat of a companion. It isn’t often he comes for injuries, but when accidents do happen, you’re sure to lecture him while tending to his injuries.

Maybe one day you get curious enough to ask what curses taste like. Maybe that day, he finally decides to be honest.

On tinier areas, like the tongue, your CT can last for hours. You try it out just once when he’s called to dispatch a first grade. He comes back that day with eyes brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.

It continues like that. When he’s called for an exorcism, he finds you. It’s like a goodbye ritual. You and him sit on the exam table, his mouth open wide as you diligently apply your curse technique, careful not to miss a single corner. He often tells you that you saved his life. You didn’t know he meant that so sincerely.

He confesses to you a year after Riko’s death.

Hes like a kid. He is a kid, staring down at you with hopeful eyes, not even a day over 18. You know what you should do. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean. He deserves that.

But...you just cant break his heart like that, so you lie.

You tell him when he's older. You tell him after graduation. You tell him to wait. He readily does. You hope in a couple years hed be too embarrassed to ask you again. His adult brain would kick in and nag at him. His friends might too. Maybe when he comes back as a fully-fledged sorcerer, you two could laugh about this.

Your last straw is Haibara.

You quit the school. you walk away from jujutsu sorcery. It's hard, because its been your life for years, but leaving hurts less than staying.

You don't tell geto. You just leave. Abandon him.

You go back to your old job. A normal high school, treating normal high school students. Years pass like that. You move on with your normal life.

And then you meet a normal man. Quiet, well-mannered, the ever slightest gray in his hair. He's perfect. When he gives you the ring, it was the happiest you'd ever been.

Geto finds you two years after your marriage.

It's almost surreal meeting him again, seeing him in your quiet apartment. There's so much blood. His fingers are dripping in it.

He smiles. "So, had time to think it over?"

You were half right. One day, Geto did come back as a full-fledged sorcerer.

But neither of you laughed about it.

[mommyslittlebird]

A Room of Your Own

Married!WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After getting kicked out of your college dorm, you find yourself living with two older strangers. It was never meant to be anything more than a temporary arrangement born out of necessity, but as the semester continues, something new starts to grow.

CW: Homophobia, Getting Kicked Out, Slow Burn (No sex or romance in this chapter), Age Gap

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I’m back from the dead, though probably not in the way you wanted or expected. I had to take a (not so) little break from one-shots and smut for the time being for some personal reasons. But I’m still finding ways to write and enjoy myself. Some of you probably have already seen this. It’s been up on AO3 for a while now. But I figured I’d post it here too.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing any sort of slow burn, so we'll see if I can resist having them all fall into bed together in the first few chapters. I also don't know how to write an introductory chapter without making it boring as shit, so I at least made it short to spare you all. I promise it gets better.

Chapter 1 of A Room of Your Own

You sat, knees curled to your chest, on the curb in front of what used to be your dorm. It was late, a little after midnight, and absolutely pouring rain.

Three days. You had been in the dorms for three days and you had already been kicked out. You’d expect some pushback, going to a religious college and being queer, but nothing like this. Nothing like getting kicked out of your dorm in the middle of the night because you were making your roommates uncomfortable. You’d tried so hard to get them to like you. They seemed sweet. Not your type of people, sure, but you thought the three of you could get along just fine.

As it turns out, they were actually so repulsed by your presence they couldn’t even wait until classes started to kick you to the curb. Literally.

“Hey!” Somebody shouted from the doorway, holding a large umbrella. You turned to see her approaching and shrunk back in on yourself. You didn’t think you could handle anymore ridicule that evening.

When you didn’t respond or turn to face her, she sat down next to you, sure to cover you with the umbrella as well. She spoke softer now. “Hey. I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

You still didn’t speak, but you looked at her now, partially soaked from where she was sitting next to you on the wet concrete. “I’m Yelena.” She reached her hand out for you to shake.

You shook her hand. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You recognized her from your dorm floor, though you’d only ever seen her in passing.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiled softly. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”

You nodded, turning your gaze back to the raining night.

“Do you have anywhere to go? For tonight I mean. I would offer you to stay in my room, but…” she turned back to the door of the building. You both knew you couldn’t go back in there.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought where you would stay tonight. You could always stay in your car. It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve slept in the backseat. Still, the sopping wet clothes would surely make for a morning full of rashes and blistered skin.

Yelena sighed, looking at the ground. She was silent for a moment before she came up with an idea. “Let me call my sister. She and her wife have a massive place not so far from here. They’ll have a bedroom or two to spare.”

Before you could form a rebuttal of any sort, Yelena pushed the umbrella into your hands and dashed back inside. You tucked the umbrella between your leg and the crook of your arm, resting your head on your knees.

It wasn’t very long before Yelena was by your side again. “Okay she’s on her way. She’ll be here in about 10 minutes.”

You didn’t look at her, facing intentionally in the other direction. You felt so horrible. You just wanted to curl up and disappear. And now you were going to be picked and taken to the home of some random classmate’s sister? You try to formulate a response, a reason that you will be fine on your own, but there was nothing. It was either this or the back seat of your 1993 Toyota Corolla. Somehow, you bet Yelena wasn’t going to take that as a reasonable explanation as to why she should call off her sister.

“Are you coming with me?” You asked weakly.

She sighed and put her hand on your back. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I will if you really want me to.”

You finally turned to face her. She didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of leaving. She was probably a freshman. It was her first couple days in the dorm too and everything was so new and exciting. The last thing she wanted to do was go back home with her sister.

“No it’s okay,” you responded. The last thing you wanted was to inconvenience someone else tonight, and it’s not like a freshman you hardly knew was going to bring you much solace anyway.

She patted your back. “They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

Before too much longer, Yelena stood up at the sight of headlights. She waved her arms in an “over here” motion. The car approached Yelena, stopping hard in front of the curb you were sitting on. The tires splashed you in rainwater and mud. Yelena winched, walking back towards you to usher you into the car.

She led you to the passenger door, popping it open and peeking her head in. “This is your girl,” she said, pointing back towards your soaked, mud covered figure. She motioned for you to sit.

You hesitated. The car looked nicer than any you’d ever been in before. The idea of ruining the nice leather seats made you want to shrink further into your ball of shame.

The woman in the driver's seat noticed your hesitation, but didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned with her seat. “Come on in,” she ushered. “Get out of that rain.”

You handed the umbrella back to Yelena, reluctantly taking a seat in the car. Yelena peaked her head back in to say “take care of her,” before closing the door and scurrying back into the dorms.

The woman looked at you, reaching up to pop on the overhead light. The sight of her in the light nearly took your breath away. She looked oddly familiar. Maybe you’d seen her around town. You sharply inhaled as the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen leaned over the console towards you. She frowned. “Oh you poor thing!” She reached out to wipe off your face. You cringed when you saw the mud smear across the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she turned the light off before pulling out of the parking lot. You fought the urge to curl up in her passenger seat, fearing further ruining her seats with the dirty bottoms of your shoes. When you didn’t speak, she offered up an introduction of her own. “My name is Natasha. I don’t know what Yelena’s told you, but I’m her sister. My wife and I have a place not so far from here.”

“I’m Y/N” you managed.

“A friend of Yelena’s?” She asked.

You chuckled a little. “I suppose you could say that. We met about 20 minutes ago.”

Natasha chuckled. “Of course. Leave it to Yelena to seek you out after such an injustice.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You wished you had heard the phone conversation so you could gauge just how much she knew.

It was as if Natasha could read your mind when she started next with the details of the phone call. “Yelena told me you got kicked out of the dorm by the other girls. They were uncomfortable because you were gay? I never expected to hear anything like that happening in 2024, but I guess I stand corrected.”

Well, that was one way of telling the story. At least Yelena had left out the peeping Tom allegations that got you chased off the floor by everyone who had to share a bathroom with you. They weren’t true, of course, but the fact that you’d made people so uncomfortable they were willing to name you a pervert without second thought made your skin crawl.

After a short, largely silent car ride, Natasha pulled the car into a garage. You hadn’t gotten a good look at the house, both because of the dark and getting lost in your own thoughts, but even by the state of the garage you could tell it was nice.

Natasha got out of the car, unlocking the door and leading you into the kitchen. You took your shoes off by the door, then decided to take your socks off too to avoid tracking muddy water through the house. The woman took your hand and guided you to the stairwell, then to a bathroom. She turned on the lights and opened up a cabinet, pulling out fresh towels and washcloths.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes and sheets. The bedroom is through here.” She opened a door that revealed a sizable bedroom connected to the bathroom. You could hardly believe this wasn’t the master suite she’d led you too.

She turned to face you, exhaling as she once again took in your disheveled state. She picked some errant pebbles from your tangled hair and wiped it out of your face. “Now,” she started, “do you need anything else before I let you get cleaned up and off to bed?”

You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough already. Thank you, Miss Natasha, for letting me stay here. It means a lot. Truly.”

“Of course.” She smiled. You didn’t notice the blush that crept onto her face at the formality. She swiped away the hair that had fallen in front of your eyes again. “We wouldn’t want a sweet girl like you sleeping out in the rain.” She booped the tip of your nose. “Now promise you’ll wake me or Wanda up if you need anything at all. We’re just in the room across the hall. Can’t miss it, it’s the only door on that side.”

You nodded slowly. There was no way in hell you were going to wake her or Wanda, who you assumed was her wife, for any reason. But you nodded anyway.

She smiled and rubbed your chin. “Good girl. Now go get cleaned up and try to get some rest.”

As she set off to her room, you hoped the mud had covered how pink your cheeks had gotten. You headed to the shower, sliding open the glass door and turning on the water. You decided to hop in with your clothes at first, hoping to get enough of the mud off that you could wear them again tomorrow. Then you wrang the clothes out and threw them over the door to dry. You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water warm you up from the cold rain. By the time you were finally clean, you grabbed the fresh towel Natasha had left for you.

Your clothes were, obviously, still soaked save for your underwear. You were thankful for the little time it had taken the thin silky material to dry. You put them back on and wrapped yourself in a towel before entering into the bedroom.

There was a maroon hoodie at the end of the bed. It had been there since Natasha first showed you the room, so it clearly wasn’t laid out for you. However, in lieu of other clothes, you decided the owner probably wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for the night. You slipped the soft fabric over your head. It was much too big for you, going down to almost your mid thighs while the sleeves dangled over your hands. But it was, quite possibly, the softest material that you’d ever felt. It felt simultaneously brand new and freshly washed.

You crawled up into the queen sized bed, slipping under the covers. You held the fabric of the hoodie close to your face. It smelled nothing like the musky bergamot of Natasha, which had been equally as entrancing in its own way. This was distinctly different. It smelled soft and comforting like lying in a meadow on a spring day. The comforting smell and warmth, along with your own exhaustion, quickly had you asleep.

[hyperions-light]

@uchidachi requested I do this one, and now that the activity around it has calmed down a bit, I thought it’d be fun!

I’ve briefly considered this topic before, but thinking about it for longer I’m pretty sure that if Lucanis or Neve brought this up (lbr here, it’d be Lucanis) it would start a fight lol

Marriage sounds like it involves a whole bunch of things Leth doesn’t like such as

-rules

-legal proceedings

-interacting with authority figures

-politics

However, they do love parties and wearing fancy clothes, so it has that going for it.

Putting the rest under the cut, bc long lol

But I think ultimately the idea would kind of freak them out, because then like… what about Teia and Viago? They have a weird situationship going on that they don’t want to give up or have to think too hard about, and marriage might complicate it. Being freaked out would immediately cause them to start an argument, and then they’d probably run away and hide for some amount of time. (Leth’s instincts always say: fight until you can run, run until you can hide)

If they were eventually convinced (hard but not impossible) it would have to be a wedding where all three of them get married, because they'd think it was unfair, otherwise.

And then probably Lucanis would regret his decision because it would turn into the biggest, most elaborate party in the history of Treviso. Leth has never even met half of the people who show up. Teia is over the moon because any wild, extravagant thing she suggests Leth will enthusiastically cosign. Everyone is invited. EVERYONE. It should be a huge security risk because so many Talons (and the Black Divine and the Archon) are in the same place at once but everyone is so heavily armed it would be suicide to attack them. They probably ask Solas if he and Lavellan want to stop holding the sky together briefly so they can come too. Yes, the necromancers can bring the Necropolis skeletons. Of course Vorgoth is invited! Tell uncle Eldrin to bring the griffons!

Probably the only thing that Leth would actually debate with Teia about is clothes. They don't want to wear a dress (they aren't as good at stabbing people in them. What if they have to stab someone?), they want NEVE to wear a dress. There is a LOT of debating back and forth about color schemes and fabrics and tailoring. I think it's like Divine Conclave level serious; Teia and Leth are locked in a room for a week and everyone else goes in and out periodically looking utterly exhausted. They figure it out eventually, though. They find the right shades of purple and turquoise so that everything looks cohesive.

I think the biggest Issue with the wedding is probably politics. There's the Crow house alliance to worry about, which Viago would get huffy over, and there's Caterina. Viago is very convinced that if Leth is around Caterina for any substantive period of time, they are going to annoy her into killing them, so he's spent a lot of time impressing on them that they should stay tf away from her. But she's going to be their grandmother-in-law now! There's probably a lot of traditions to fulfill, like formal meetings and interviews and evaluations and dinners which will stress Lucanis out! Leth endures it with uncomfortable bemusement. They only irritate Caterina a moderate amount-- she definitely whacks them with that cane at least once. It's fine, though! Leth likes grumpy people and is good at dodging.

I think the celebration is like... Carnival or Mardi Gras, essentially. It lasts a week, no one leaves when they're supposed to, everyone is horribly inebriated. They need healers because the Lords of Fortune tried to play their drinking game in the canals and got sick immediately. People show up late; they go and come back and somehow the party is still happening. Lucanis, Neve and Viago definitely tap out at some point-- meanwhile, Teia, Illario, Isabela, and Leth are having an amazing time! It's sort of also a party to celebrate the apocalypse being averted?

I think Taash would make it through the whole time, Davrin would last a while but he has to do Griffon Wrangling eventually. Emmrich is out after like day two. Manfred would stay the whole time. Bel would have fun but I think she would get burned out on it eventually. I think all the faction leaders show at some point, but they also either 1) have stuff to do 2) do NOT want to spend a week in the middle of this chaos, so I think probably by the end it's just Teia and Isabela left.

Leth brings some of Harding's fade plants to decorate the venue and hand-delivers an invitation to Harding's mom. They order a barrel of that nasty shit they serve in the Hanged Man, and pour one out for Varric-- maybe Bianca sneaks in there at some point. There's probably a dramatic reading of Varric's least favorite book, just so Leth can annoy him in the afterlife.

I think it ends up sort of cathartic for everyone? Like, the wedding is why they come, but everyone needs to unwind from all the terrible shit that happened.

I think the actually romantic part is probably after, during the honeymoon. They just go somewhere quiet and isolated where Leth can make sure their two workaholic partners do absolutely nothing productive for two uninterrupted weeks. Treviso and Docktown will be okay without them, for a minute-- Viago and Elek promised.

Also after that Leth is bringing Lucanis and Neve to meet their clan, because they don't live with them anymore, but that doesn't mean they aren't important. Maybe the quiet, sincere version of the ceremony happens there, with nobody else around? And Leth is bullying them into matching tattoos, which they will do themself.

Hey, hope you all had a good weekend! Unfortunately, it’s Monday =/ Fortunately, it’s time for Rook Intro Hour! 🍀🌺🌼🌸

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Question(s): Does your Rook want to get married to their LI(s)? Do they care about where? Is there a specific tradition/traditions they want to follow, when they do? Who would they invite? What would they wear?

Have fun & thanks for sharing!

[letmebeyourcrrsh]

the echo of his broken heart

idol!jeongin x reader

warnings: mention of hate, angst?

tell me if there is more-

genre: breakup

summary: you are dating the one and only maknae of stray kids. you two had been in a happy and healthy relationship for very long now.. until suddenly the internet was filled with pictures of you two…

You never thought you'd be here. Never thought the day would come when you'd have to walk away from him. The man who made your heart feel whole.

Jeongin was your secret—your calm in the chaos. You never wanted the world to know about your relationship. It was yours and his, tucked away in a quiet corner of the universe. The late-night phone calls, the stolen kisses when no one was looking, the soft promises to always be there for each other… That was enough. It was always enough.

But nothing stays hidden forever.

It was one photo. One innocent moment. You were both at a small café, tucked away in a quiet corner, laughing at something he had said. It was like any other day. However.. A fan saw. A fan snapped a picture, and from that moment, everything shattered.

At first, it was just curiosity.

“Is this real?” “Who are they?”

People wanted to know. But soon, the floodgates opened, and the hate followed.

They don`t deserve him. They’ll ruin his career. They’re just using him. They dont even look good next to him? ew. Bet they are only there for the money.

Jeongin tried to protect you at first, tried to deflect the hate, tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. But you saw the pain in his eyes. You heard the exhaustion in his voice when he called you late at night, asking how you were holding up.

It hurt him. And it hurt you.

The once peaceful love you had shared started to feel suffocating. You didn’t want to be a part of the world that was judging you, tearing apart your life for the mere crime of loving someone who happened to be famous. But you knew that as long as Jeongin was by your side, you could endure it.

But then came the threats.

They started slowly—comments on his posts, DMs flooding his inbox. It wasn’t just hate anymore. It was fear. The " fans " were relentless. They told him to end it with you before things got worse. They said if he cared about his career, he would choose them over you. They said you weren’t good enough for him, and that you would bring him down.

And then the worst part came.

The messages you received. The ones that told you to leave him. The ones that told you to disappear. They weren’t just cruel; they were dangerous. They said they knew where you lived. They said they knew everything about you.

Your life became a nightmare.

You wanted to fight back, to scream at them that they didn’t know you, that you weren’t some kind of villain. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk his safety. You couldn’t risk your own.

And in the quietest, darkest part of your heart, you knew what was coming. You knew this couldn’t go on.

It was the night after a particularly ugly comment had gone viral. Jeongin called you. His voice was low, almost robotic, as if he had rehearsed these words a thousand times in his head.

“Y/N, we need to talk.”

You already knew what he was going to say.

“I think... it’s best if we end this,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

Your chest tightened. You had been expecting it. You had known it was coming. But hearing him say the words felt like a knife twisting in your heart.

“No,” you whispered. “Please, Jeongin. We can’t just let them win. We’ll figure this out. We can make it through.”

He was silent for a moment. And then, you heard the deep, painful exhale of a man who was already broken inside.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I can’t see you like this. You’re scared all the time. You’re hurting, and it’s because of me. You don’t deserve this. You deserve peace. You deserve a life that isn’t filled with hate and threats.”

Your tears began to fall silently, as if your heart knew the end was coming even before your mind could process it.

“Jeongin,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I don’t care about the hate. I care about you. You’re worth every bit of pain. I just want to be with you.”

He was crying now, and his voice was barely audible as he responded, “I love you so much, Y/N. I always will. But the truth is… I’m not enough to keep you safe. I can’t protect you from this. I can’t let you drown in a world that doesn’t care about you the way I do.”

Your world felt like it was crumbling. All of the love you shared, all the quiet moments, the dreams you had together—they were slipping through your fingers, and you couldn’t stop it.

“Please… don’t ask me to walk away,” you begged, your heart breaking with every word. “I can’t do this without you.”

But he was already shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. You’re everything to me, but I can’t be the reason you lose yourself.”

There was no more fight in him. No more hope in his eyes. Just sorrow. Just resignation.

And so, you did what you had to do. You said goodbye. The words felt empty as they left your lips. They were hollow, unable to fill the space between you two, because the truth was, neither of you wanted this. Neither of you wanted to let go.

“I’ll never forget you,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I promise.”

You wanted to say the same, but it was too much. The tears clouded your vision as you turned away, walking out of his life with the weight of everything you couldn’t change.

And as you walked away, all you could hear was the echo of his broken heart, calling your name in the distance.