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azziesbattybaddie · 17 hours ago

Note

Hellooooo! I've never really sent a request before so I hope I'm doing this right. I saw that you write for adult Nyx and NO ONE ever really writes for him so I was wondering if you could write Nyx x reader based off of the song "not like I'm in love with you" by LEW. Basically just them being like older teenagers maybe and just acting like pining idiots. Maybe if you could do some smut too🥺🙏 I just I love your stuff and I've had this idea in my head and I can't write it myself so... Also I love shadows and snow angels!!!! So cute!!!

Oh my gosh Lovely, your brain! I love it! This was so fun to work on and I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

We're just friends, right?

Nyx Archeron x Fem Reader

Here's the Spotify code if anyone wanted to listen while reading, just screenshot or download it and scan it in the app.

Ever since Nyx turned 18 he was always flirting a new female. He hardly ever spent time with you anymore and you were upset! I mean you had every write to be, you were his best friend, Which meant you automatically deserved his undivided attention constantly. Rhys thinks otherwise, maybe he can try to knock some sense into you both.

Word count: 10.1k oh my God!!!!

Requested: yes!

Warnings: smut, so much plot, jealousy, p-in-v, oral F receiving, unprotected sex, fairly vanilla surprisingly, Nyx being oblivious for a bit, Nyx also being a skirt chaser, Rhys being the dad we all deserve, we die like men

💔🔥💘

Author's note: this took sooooooooo looooooong! First the app glitched and I lost an hour worth of editing. Then it did it again and I gave up for about 20 minutes and then I came back to try again to find that the app did save the changes and just decided not to tell me! In any case, this fic has taken over 7 hours of editing so far not including the writing so I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!

You sat on Nyx's bed and listened to him as he told you about the fling he had the night before. He was in the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely around his waist as he shaved. You rolled your eyes for the millionth time knowing he couldn't see you at the moment. You were Nyx's best friend had been since you were kids, Unfortunately that meant that you were basically volunteering to listen to him after he has a fling with a new female. Oh well you choose this...

"Ok so after Rita's you took her back to her place and...."

Nyx poked his head out of the bathroom, a lather of shaving cream on his jaw as his eyes met yours. He flashed you a cheeky grin, clearly amused by your eye-rolling antics.

"Well, as you can imagine, things got a bit... heated," he said, drawling the last word. "I mean, have you seen Mia's s place? The view alone was enough to get my blood pumping." He chuckled and disappeared back into the bathroom, the sound of the faucet turning back on. You could hear him continue, his voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls,

"So there we were, on her balcony, the city lights twinkling below us... and one thing led to another. You know how it goes, Anyway, let's just say she was quite... enthusiastic, and the things that girl can do with her hands... Also she moaned like a bitch.. in a good way of course you know Very vocal, if you catch my drift." Another pause, followed by a low, appreciative whistle.

Nyx emerged a moment later, now shaving cream-free and rubbing a towel over his freshly shaven jaw. He flopped down on the bed next to you, still bare- chested and barefoot, the towel just barely covering his modesty.

"Honestly, Y/n, the things that girl could do with her tongue... I'm not sure I'll ever be the same." He shuddered dramatically, a dazed grin spreading across his face at the memory. You knew he was just try to pester you but said nothing. Rolling over to face you, he propped himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief and self- satisfaction.

"So, what do you think? Should I go see her again like tomorrow, Or do you think I should let her miss me.... just a little bit?" His grin turned sly, a eyebrow arching wickedly as he waited for your reaction. He knew you'd give him hell, but he also knew you'd never stop him from having his fun... even if a small part of you wished it could be you he was eager to see again.

You gave him a kinda grossed out face at hearing the details but thought for a second. You were just being a good friend, at least that's what you told yourself. It's not like you wanted him like that.... It was just... Whatever...

"You should go for it, I mean if you enjoyed yourself that much... Why wait right?"

Nyx's grin widened, his eyes glinting with triumph as he saw the slightly green tinge to your face.

"Why so squeamish, Y/n?" he teased, reaching out to playfully boop your nose. "It's not like I'm telling you anything you haven't heard before Besides, you're the one who always says I should be more adventurous. He smirked, the word dripping with innuendo. Rolling onto his back, Nyx folded his hands behind his head, stretching out languidly like a satisfied cat.

"I think... I think I will take your advice. Meet up with mia again tomorrow night, see where things go. Unless... you have other plans for me?" His tone was playful, but there was a flicker of something more in his eyes as he looked at you, a hint of a different kind of hunger,

"Gross!"

You shoved his shoulder as he sat up, grabbing the towel before it could fall. You smirked and watched as he entered his closet to find an outfit. It always stung to hear about Nyx's escapades for some reason but he was the high lord and lady's son. He was as witty as his mother and as handsome as his father, no wonder females basically threw themselves at his feet. You'd be lying if you hand thought about doing the same but really you and Nyx had been friends since you were kids, you were just being ridiculous.

"How about this time you wear a shirt that has buttons past your bellybutton" You tease him as you stay on the bed and let him change in peace. Nyx stuck his head out of the closet, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and the way you'd shoved his shoulder.

"Oh, so now you're modesty police?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock outrage. "I thought you liked the view, Y/n." His eyes twinkled with playful accusation, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He disappeared back into the closet, the rustle of fabric and the clunk of hangers on the rack filling the air. A moment later, he emerged wearing a crisp black shirt, the buttons indeed done up all the way to the top. The shirt accentuated the broad expanse of his shoulders and the lean lines of his chest. He did a little twirl, his grin widening as he caught you staring.

"There, is this better?" he asked, a smug note in his voice. "Or do you have other... sartorial advice you'd like to share?" There was a playful lilt to his tone, but also a hint of something softer, gentler. A warmth that made your heart skip a beat, even as your mind told you you were being ridiculous. You stood with an annoyed smile and walked over to him before making him lightly on the chest and walking past him into the closet.

"Well now you just look like nerd. At least unto the top two, seriously how you ever get laid is beyond me..." You say sarcastically as you grab a jacket that would match his look and the weather both.

Nyx's eyes widened in mock offense at your teasing jab, a hand flying to his chest as if wounded.

"A nerd? Me? Why, because I actually bother to cover up in polite company?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'll have you know, the ladies find my intellect... captivating... Among other things..." He said with a smirk as he flecks his arms making the fabric go taut. there was a playful gleam in his eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As you rummaged through his closet, pulling out a sleek leather jacket that would complement his outfit perfectly. Nyx leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an amused expression.

"But I suppose I can take your fashion advice, just this once," he said, plucking the jacket from your hands and slipping it on. The leather hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his lean, athletic build. He struck a pose, cocking an eyebrow at you with a grin. "There. I'm practically a fashion icon now, Happy now?" There was a playful note in his voice, a teasing lilt that made your heart flutter in your chest. But there was something more too, a warmth and affection that made you feel cherished, valued...

"your a dork you know that." You say chuckling as you pass him again to go get your shoes and purse. It was Friday which mean you, Nyx, Rhys, Feyre, Azriel and Morr would go to Rita's, to have a night out. Nyx's grin only widened at your teasing jab, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Guilty as charged," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "But you love me anyway, you big softy." He winked at you, a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you gather your things. As you both made your way downstairs, Nyx slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close.

"You ready for a night out?" he asked, a note of excitement in his voice. "I hear Rita's has a few new drinks on the menu . Might be a good chance to cut loose, dance a bit, maybe with someone else for a change..." His eyebrows danced suggestively above his smirk, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

Nyx's parents and aunt and uncle were already waiting by the door, looking stunning as always. Feyre's gown was a shimmering work of art, while Rhys and Morr were equally impeccable in their formal attire. Azriel even wearing his normal black leathers seemed to look just as put together as always. They turned to greet you both, warm smiles on their faces. "Bekah, you look lovely," Feyre said, pulling you in for an air kiss on each cheek. "And you, my love look like your father, as always." she teased, a playful note in her voice.

"thanks mama." Nyx's eyes crinkled with affection as he came and kissed his mother on the cheek.

Already you could feel the anticipation building, the promise of a night filled with laughter, dancing, and maybe, just maybe, a chance to let go and be a little reckless. You could only hope that nyx would actually spend the night with you guys instead of running off for the night with the first female he smiles at. It had been so long since he had actually spent time with any of you when you weren't at the house.

once you got to Rita's, the six of your found a table and ordered dinner and drinks. This was probably the third or fourth time you'd been allowed to drink alcohol here. You didn't handle it particularly well and You didn't love it by any means but you tolerated it enough to indulge when your overly nervous.

You glanced over at Nyx, noticing he was quieter than usual. You followed his gaze to a pretty blond female all the way at the bar across the dance floor. Of course..... You'd been here 10 minutes and he already got his eyes set on someone, at least he wasn't up and leaving the table yet but you knew that could change at any second so you focused your attention on having a conversation with Rhys. Nyx wasn't a womanizer, he was kind and did think of other people's feelings. Granted if a female showed interest in him he usually wouldn't turn her down but he was never against a relationsh- why the hell are you even thinking about this! It has nothing to do with you! Gods what is wrong with you as of late, it was exhausting....

Nyx felt your gaze on him and glanced over, catching your eye. He offered you a small, distracted smile, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. The blonde at the bar had caught his attention, her laughter ringing out over the pulsing beat of the music as she joked with her friends. He downed the rest of his drink, the amber liquid burning its way down his throat, before standing abruptly.

"Be right back," he murmured, not quite meeting your eyes as he made his way towards the bar. You watched him go, a mix of exasperation and... something else, something you didn't want to acknowledge, churning in your gut. This was just like Nyx, spotting a pretty face and being drawn in like a moth to a flame. But then again, when had he ever been able to resist a challenge, a chance to charm and captivate? It was in his nature, a part of his very being, Feyre said he got that from his father. And yet, a small, traitorous part of you wished, just for once, that he might look at you the same way, with that same heated intensity... But no, you pushed that thought away, disgusted with yourself for even entertaining such a notion.

you mentally try to shake the feeling of and turn your attention back to Rhys seeing as your friend as yet again left family time to go get laid. Shit this was becoming a habit... And it was really starting to bothering you.

Rhys noticed your distraction and followed your gaze to where Nyx was now engaged in animated conversation with the blonde, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, studying you with a thoughtful expression. "He's a grown male, sweetling," Rhys said, his voice a low rumble. "He knows what he's doing." There was a note of mild reproach in his tone, a subtle reminder that you were being a bit... overprotective. Possessive, even. But then again, Rhys had always seen the depth of your bond with his son, the unbreakable connection forged in childhood that had only grown stronger with time.

you made a face and shook your head dismissively.

"I know that. It's just... Annoying," Sure let's go with that. You thanked the Cauldron when your drinks arrived. You took a large sip of your drink in hopes of clearing your head of what ever this possessive, Jealous feeling... No, not not jealous, that would be ridiculous...

"This used to be when we all would spend time together and ever since be turned 18 he never... Nevermind, doesn't matter."

You took another sip and made absolutely sure to keep your eyes away from the bar. Rhys's eyes softened as he studied your face, a flicker of understanding in their depths. He reached out, his large hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a comforting, fatherly gesture. "Ah, y/n," he said, a note of gentle reproach in his voice. "Is that what's bothering you? That things have changed now that your both getting older?" His gaze drifted to where his son stood still engrossed in conversation with the blonde. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he turned back to you.

"He's not a child anymore, sweetling. He has... needs and desires that he's just beginning to explore. It's natural, at his age. Lets not forget, he's a freshly adult Illyrian male, I'm not going to sit her and pretend that we aren't known for getting around. Rhys's thumb absently rubbed your shoulder, a soothing motion. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to spend time with you anymore. You're still his bestfriend, That will never change-"

You cut him off and shrug him his hand off of your shoulder. Rhys had always been like a second dad to you and you were always very welcome to any advice he had for you but for once you didn't want to fucking hear it. You made sure to slam your mental shields up and close the cracks snugly before your responded.

"I don't need the sex talk Rhys. I'm not a kid either ok, I just meant that it just... Aggravating that he'd rather spend his time chasing females that do actually give a fuck about him over spending time with his family. It fine he's his own person, it's just annoying...."

You you didn't try to cover the disgruntled look on your face as you down the last of your drink as signal the bartender to send you another. Rhys watched as you downed your drink and signaled for another, a hint of concern flickering across his face. He knew this was a sensitive subject for you, a raw nerve that you didn't want him to touch. But he also knew that sometimes, the things we didn't want to hear were the things we needed to hear most.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice low and gentle. "I understand your frustration. I do. But you need to accept that people change as they grow older, and so do their priorities. Nyx will always make time for you, no matter what. But he's also entitled to his own life, his own experiences."

Rhys paused, letting his words sink in. "Spending time with a pretty female isn't a betrayal of his friendship with you. It's a part of him growing up, and I know you used to be extremely close but-"

you just stood and grabbed your bag before turning to Rhys a badly disguised pissed off expression etched into your face.

"Actually I'll see you all at home. l forgot I have to be up early tomorrow, I'm gonna head home early."

You said with a dry tone before turning and striding to the exit and leaving. It was clear that Rhys, in trying to meditate, had only pissed you off more. What he didn't see was the hurt that made you feel like screaming when you realized Nyx hadn't even noticed you'd left. You only felt the burning of Rhys and Feyre's gaze burning into your back.

Nyx was still engrossed in conversation with the blonde, oblivious to your abrupt departure. He was laughing at something she said, a hand resting casually on her hip as he leaned in close to hear her over the pulsing music. The blonde was eating it up, hanging onto his every word, her eyes shining with admiration and a hint of something more. Nyx was in his element, charming and captivating, but he was also utterly focused on his new companion, not sparing a thought for the empty chair across the room where you had been sitting. The sight made you sick, your stomach twisting painfully.

You didn't stop storming out of the building even when you hard footsteps coming after you. You finally decided to turn and for a half second your heart jumped to see a dark figure emerge from the the doors. Only to have that flutter be smashed again to see Rhys exit and not his son. Nyx really didn't even notice you left... Why the fuck did you even care anyway, the answer was getting harder and harder to deny with every passing day.

"Y/n, wait," he said, his voice low and urgent. Rhys caught up to you quickly, his longstrides eating up the distance between you. He reached out, his hand closing around your elbow, halting your furious retreat.

"I know you're upset, but please, talk to me, you know I'm always here." There was a note of concern in his tone, a hint of something else, something that made your heart skip a beat despite your anger.

Rhys guided you to a quiet spot nearby, away from the thrumming music and chatter of the bar. He studied your face, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and worry. "Talk to me," he coaxed softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on your elbow. "Tell me what's really bothering you. Is it... is it just about Nyx? Or is something else? Whatever it it, bottling it up isn't going to help you sweetling." His gaze was intense, searching, as if he could see right through to the tangled mess of your emotions. As if he knew that the anger masking your face was only a flimsy veil for something much deeper, much harder to name.

You close your eyes and force yourself to keep your mental shielding up as you thought of a way to respond without sounding absolutely pathetic.

"I just... I have, other things going on and I'm just... Like I said I have to be up early tomorrow, I'd just be better if I went home now..."

You avoided the question with as many lies you could muster. You HATED lying to Rhys but you felt like your heart and mind was rebelling against each other and you couldn't tell him why you were upset if you couldn't even admit it to yourself

Rhys's eyes narrowed, a flicker of skepticism crossing his handsome features. He wasn't convinced by your flimsy excuse, and he knew you well enough to see through any pretense. Leaning in closer, his voice dropped to a low, intimate murmur,

"Y/n darling, look at me." His fingers tightened gently on your elbow, a silent command. "I've known you since you were a little girl. Your the closet to a daughter I have and I can tell when something is your not telling me something, and why won't you just tell me what's wrong?" His gaze softened, a glimmer of compassion and understanding in their depths. "Please, talk to me. Let me help you, you know the last thing I'll ever do is judge you for hurting... whatever it may be. You don't have to do it alone." There was a tender note in his voice, a gentle encouragement, as if he were coaxing a skittish horse to trust him. His thumb continued its slow, soothing circles on your elbow, a silent promise of comfort and support.

Your eyes were locked on the concrete as they welled slightly and you just let yourself lean forward to hug him.

"I'm just... I don't have a right or a... A reason to be mad but I am... And I'm so fucking angry that I don't know why..."

Another lie... You knew deep down exactly why you were angry and it wasn't even with Nyx. You were mad at yourself for being a fucking coward.

Rhys wrapped his strong arms around you as you leaned into his embrace, holding you close. He made no move to pull away, allowing you the comfort of his warm, solid presence. "Shh, it's alright," he murmured, one hand coming up to stroke your hair in a soothing gesture. He he rested his cheek on top of your head gently as rocked you from side to side, the same why he would when you were a kid and scraped your knee. "Everyone has a right to their feelings, Bekah. You don't need a reason to be upset." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "Sometimes, the most difficult feelings to understand are the ones that come from within ourselves. They can be the hardest to acknowledge, to accept." His voice was low and gentle, a tender rumble in your ear. His hand continued its gentle caress, a silent reminder of his unwavering support and love.

"it's like I don't exist to him anymore..."

You whispered into his chest and just slumped to lean into him more. You had never even wanted 'that type of attention from Nyx but at the same time, for some reason, you didn't think you'd ever have to ask for it either....

Rhys's arms tightened around you as he heard the quiet admission, a flicker of realization crossing his face. He leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Darling," he said softly, his eyes searching yours with a newfound understanding. "You could never be ignored, not by anyone, and certainly not by my son." His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I love you, sweetling. We all do." His voice dropped to a low, fervent whisper.

His gaze held yours, intense and sincere, a silent promise. "And I know Nyx loves you too, even if he's not always the most... perceptive about showing it." A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he pulled you back into his embrace, cradling you close. "Give him a chance, sweetling. Give yourself a chance to see what's right in front of both of you." His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he held you, a silent comfort and reassurance.

"He's always perceptive... That's the problem..."

Rhys stilled, a flicker of surprise and a hint of something else, something softer, crossing his features. He searched your face, a new understanding dawning in his eyes.

"You're upset because you feel invisible to him. Because you think he doesn't see you the way you've always seen him." His voice was low and gentle, a tender murmur. "But darling... that couldn't be further from the truth."

"Nyx sees you, Y/n. He's always seen you. He's just... not always the best about showing how he feels." A wry smile tugged at his lips before he brushed a tender kiss to your forehead, a silent comfort. "Be patient with him, you know he can be a bit slow sometimes." He said giving you tight squeeze if only to make you laugh.

"Right, he sees me and because he can't talk to me about it, he goes fucks anything with a pair of tits cuz that makes perfect fucking sense!"

Your anger flared faster that the heaviness that settled onto your chest once again. You pushed out of Rhys's hold before covering your face with your hands and giving Rhys a quiet apology before just turning on your heel and winnowing back to the river house.

Rhys watched you go, a mix of concern and newfound understanding etched into his handsome features. He stood there for a long moment, his brows furrowed as he processed the revelation, the pieces falling into place like a puzzle. Then, with a determined set to his jaw, he strode purposefully back into the bar, his mind made up.

Nyx was still engrossed in conversation with the blonde when Rhys approached, a look of grim determination on his face. He tapped Nyx on the shoulder, a gesture that was almost a bit too rough to be polite. Nyx turned, a look of embarrassment and mild annoyance flashing across his face before he saw who had interrupted him. Rhys leaned in close, his voice a low growl in Nyx's ear.

"A word, son?" he said, a note of command in his tone. He didn't wait for a response before turning and heading towards the entrance once again, expecting Nyx to follow. Nyx hesitated for a moment, a flicker of confusion and irritation in his eyes, before he muttered a quick apology to the blonde and followed in his father's wake.

Rhys led them to a quiet corner, away from prying ears and eyes. He turned to face Nyx, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression stern.

"Y/n left" he said without preamble, a note of accusation in his voice. "She was upset, and I think I know why." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Son, have you ever stopped to think about what that girl means to you? Really think about it?" His gaze bored into Nyx's, a silent challenge. Nyx opened his mouth to respond

"She's my bestfr-" a look of bewilderment crossed his face, as Rhys cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"No, listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense. "She is more than just your friend, she's your bestfriend and if you were using your brain she might actually be more. She's been by your side since you were a kid, a constant in your life. And you need to seriously think about how your actions might be affecting her" He paused, letting the revelation hang in the air between them.

"So why do you think she's hurting, Nyx? Why do you think she's been so agitated recently?" His gaze searched his son's face, a silent demand for honesty. Nyx stared at his father, a look of confusion and dawning realization slowly spreading across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if struggling to find the right words.

"I... I don't know," he said finally, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "I never really thought about it." He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of frustration and bewilderment. "I mean, Bekah is my best friend. She always has been. It's not like she really cares, she's the once egging me on most of the time, But..." He trailed off, a flicker of emotion crossing his features as the implications of Rhys's words sank in, Rhys watched his son closely, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"But what, Nyx?" he prompted softly, a gentle encouragement. "I know damn well your smarter than this boy."

His gaze searched Nyx's face, a silent demand for honesty and introspection. He didn't get it but he was satisfied when Nyx cursed under his breath and practically sprinted out to the street before winnowing away too.

You were in your comfort pajamas with a half eaten tub of ice cream and a sappy romance book in your lap by the time Nyx opened the front door and flew up the stairs. You had stopped crying by now and had just decided to stay in one of the guest rooms for the night to just wallow in your self pity and get lost on one of the love stories Nesta had lent you... It was easier that thinking about your actual predicament... When Nyx had bust through your door. You screamed and jumped from the bed as you started at him for a minute.

"What the actual Fuck Nyx! you scared me to death! What are you even doing back her, I thought you would have found somewhere else to be tonight?"

Thank the Gods the words didn't sound as bitter as they felt as you picked up your ice cream and book from where they had fell before standing and pulling on your robe gently trying not to act as if he hadn't been the one to practically rip your heart out of your ass and feed it too you in pieces.

Nyx stood in your doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. He looked.... disheveled, in a way you'd never seen him before. His hair was mussed, his shirt slightly askew, a look of barely contained turmoil etched into every line of his body. He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze roving over your pajama-clad form, taking in the ice cream, the book, the robe. Something flickered in his eyes, a heat that had nothing to do with the physical, and everything to do with the emotional turmoil that was clearly consuming him.

He took a step into the room, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. He reached out, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders, a gesture that was almost too tight to be gentle. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough and ragged. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I needed to talk to you." His thumbs rubbed small circles on your shoulder blades, a gesture that was almost unconscious, as if he couldn't help himself. He studied your face, a look of confusion and a hint of something else, something softer, in his dark eyes.

"Y/n," he said slowly, as if testing the name on his tongue. "Why did you leave? Why did you run off like that?" There was a note of accusation in his voice, a hint of frustration, but beneath it all, a current of something else. Something that made your heart skip a beat despite yourself. Like he was trying to get a specific answer from you. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm on your skin.

"And don't tell me it's because you had to be up early, cuz we both know that you never get up early after you drink..." he murmured, a wry note in his voice. know there's more to it than that. His gaze searched yours, a silent demand for the truth, a silent plea for understanding.

You scoffed slightly and pulled away before turning around and started to absentmindedly tidy your nightstand. Anything to avoid this conversion...

"Rhys needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut..." You mumbled bitterly. Nyx's reached to wrap a hand around your marn trying to turn you back to him, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense.

"No, Y/n don't make this about dad, This is about you, and me, and the fact that... I think I've been a blind idiot... for a really fuckin long time..." His gaze searched your face, a look of dawning realization and a hint of something else, something softer, in their depths. "Tell me, Tell me what's been bothering you, what's had you so upset lately." His thumb continued it's small, unconscious circles on your arm, a gesture that was almost soothing despite the tension that crackled between you.

"And don't lie to me. Not now, not about this." There was a note of command in his voice, a silent demand for honesty, but beneath it all, a current of something else. Something that made your heart race despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You let him angle your face to look back at him and swallowed hard as you looked for words. Your not used to seeing that look directed towards you and it was throwing you off. He was fishing for answers, he did this all the time. He had a hunch and he wanted you to confirm it.

"I don't know why I'm upset, probably just hormones or something..." You tried to make an offer handed joke in a last ditch effort avoid the question. "Your allowed to do what ever you want, none of my business...'

Nyx's eyes flashed with a sudden intensity, a glimmer of frustration and something else, something deeper, in their dark depths. He stepped closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Stop it," he said, his voice low and rough, a hint of a growl underlying his words. "Stop trying to dodge the question, stop trying to brush this off like it's nothing." He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a gesture that was almost... intimate.

"This isn't about your damn hormones, Y/n! This is about the fact that you've been hurting, and I want you to tell me why!"

"you know why! I just... I never thought I'd have to, fight for your attention. I thought I had it... And then you turned 18 and you proved to me how wrong i was."

Nyx's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of realization and a hint of something else, something softer, in their dark depths. He stared at you for a long moment, as if seeing you for the first time, as if truly taking in the weight of your words. His grip on your hair tightened slightly, a gesture that was almost unconscious, as if he couldn't help himself. "Y/n," he said slowly, his voice rough and low. "I... I never mea-"

"just drop it Nyx! forget it, it doesn't... Just forget it."

You huffed, cutting him off and pulling away from him again. You had to get outside, to get some fresh air. You pushed past him and ran down the stairs feeling like the walls were closing in on you. Nyx be damned, your heart be damned. he didn't get it. Of course he never meant to hurt you, how could you have ever thought he did. No.. NO you were angry because you were in lov-... shit you were in love with him. The acceptance hid you harder that the cold night air as you finally made to to the backyard.

Nyx stood rooted to the spot for a moment, a look of stunned disbelief on his face as you pushed past him and raced down the stairs. Then, as if shaking off a trance, he sprinted after you, taking the steps two at a time. He burst out into the backyard just as you were wrapping your arms around yourself, your breath misting in the chilly night air.

He approached you slowly, as if approaching a wild animal that could bite at any second, his hands held out in a gesture of supplication. "Y/n," he said softly, his voice low and gentle. "Please, don't run from me." He paused, a look of newfound understanding in his eyes. "You're in love with me, that's why you've been angry." It wasn't a question, but a statement. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours, a hint of something else, something softer, in their depths.

"yes asshole, fuck of course I..."

You kept your wrapped tightly wrapped around yourself as you tried to keep the panic from seeping into your voice. This was it, you fucked up but it wasn't fair. It was selfish and ridiculous but you wanted his attention, all of it, always! You wanted all of him to yourself! And you had no right to be angry from not getting what you wanted so much when you hadn't even tried to hint that you might have wanted him. You looked back at finally the devastation and the utter longing showing in your eyes. You wanted him, his mind his body, you wanted him so badly it hurt. You had pushed your emotions aside for so long that finally accepting them nearly sent you to the ground.

Nyx stood still, his eyes widening slightly as the realization of your confession sunk in, he hadn't honestly expected you to say it out loud. He stared at you, taking in the devastation and longing etched into every line of your face, the way your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face - surprise, confusion, a hint of fear, and then.... a softening, a warmth that began to glow in his dark eyes.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, his hands coming to rest on your your waist gently. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he held you too tightly. He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. You waited for the word to come, the anger, the frustration, but none did. One second he was cupping your face in his hand and the next he was hugging you so tightly you thought your lungs would burst. And the amount of whip lash you got from him pulling back and kissing you like you were life itself.

Your eyes fell closed before your body caught up to your mind and you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. You fingers tangled into his onyx hair as you felt him nip at your lower lip. To think half an hour ago you were cursing his existence and now, if you had your way, you be cursing his name for so many other reasons...

"Nyx..."

Nyx groaned softly against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours, a silent declaration of desire and want. He pulled you flush against him, eliminating any space between your bodies, as if he wanted to consume you, to make you a part of him

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, a hint of pain mingling with pleasure, a silent promise of passion and possession. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, a plea, a silent beg for more. And more is exactly what he gave you, his hands roaming over your curves, mapping out the contours of your body as if committing them to memory.

"Nyx, I..." He paused, his breath hot against your skin, a look of fierce intensity in his eyes as he met your gaze. "I love you, baby, I love you and I need you so fucking much right now." He sealed his confession with another kiss, a fierce, passionate claiming of your mouth, a silent vow of love and devotion.

If you hand been so lost in him you might have realized how strange it was for Nyx, the boy who had a new girl every few days seemed to confess to love so quickly. You also might have noticed the burning snap inside your chest as he lifts you into his arms and walked you slowly to press you against the side of the back deck, not seeming to care that you were still outside, completely exposed to anyone that might come home early.

Nyx didn't seem to care about anything but you in that moment, his eyes blazing with a newfound intensity as he held you close. Railing of the deck, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. He leaned into you, his hands gripping your hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your hip bones through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured. He nipped at your earlobe, a gesture that sent shivers down your spine. "I want everyone to know that you're mine, that you've always been mine." His voice was low and rough, a hint of a growl underlying his words.

His words set the fire in your heart spreading to every inch of you he touched. You moaned as you felt his hand come to rest under your ass kneading the plump flesh as he pinned you between himself and the deck. The smell hit you soon enough, Nyx smelled like vanilla and cologne, and books and... Home, he smelled like home. If you hadn't already giving into him completely, that, would have been the final push. Your hands quickly raced over the front of his shirt trying to undo the buttons without pulling his mouth from your neck.

Nyx groaned softly as your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his own hands tightening on your hips. He helped you, his deft fingers making quick work of the buttons until the shirt fell open, revealing the expanse of his chest. You ran your hands over the hard planes and ridges, marveling at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

He leaned back, giving you a moment to explore, a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Like what you feel, baby?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "You can touch me all you want, baby. I'm all yours." He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips, pressing his growing arousal against your core, a silent promise of what was to come.

Nyx's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you, a look of pure, unadulterated hunger etched into every line of his face. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hands sliding up your sides to cup the soft swells of your breasts after curly shoving your shirt up.

"I want to touch every inch of you, to taste every part of you, I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby." His thumbs brushed over your nipples the pads of his fingers digging in a bit. A gesture that made you arch into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Nyx looked up at you as he knelt before you, his dark eyes blazing with a feral intensity that made your heart race and your skin prickle with anticipation. He slowly peeled your shorts down your legs, his fingers trailing over your skin, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. As he tugged your shorts off, he leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, the shortest bit of scruff scraping lightly against your sensitive skin. He paused, looking up at you with a wicked grin, his hands gripping your thighs.

You pulled him back into a firm kiss and he set you down only to kneel in front of you and pull your shorts from your legs. The look in his eyes almost looked as feral as you felt. You didn't know if it was nerves or something more as you felt what felt like a second heartbeat, thudding in your chest, like a phantom it made your breath race faster.

"I want to taste you, babygirl. Fuck you smell so damn good..." His voice was a low, rough growl, a hint of a promise in his words as he leaned his forehead against your abdomen, his eyes locked on your slit and he breathes in deep, taking your scent again.

"Can I, baby? Can I taste you? Please?" His gaze held yours, a silent demand for permission, a silent plea for you to give yourself over to him completely

Your head fell back at his words as you lost your words again, You reached down to run your fingers through his now unruly hair, it was the only confirmation you could muster in this state of euphoria you were stuck in before he even touched you.

Nyx took the action as a yes, a low, approving growl rumbling in his chest. his breath hot against your pussy. He looked up at you one last time, his eyes dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race. Then, slowly, torturously, he leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue delving between your folds to taste your essence.

He groaned loudly at the first taste of you, the sound vibrating through you, making your hips jerk forward involuntarily. He gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he began to feast on you, his mouth and tongue working in tandem to bring you pleasure. He quickly picked your up and threw your thighs over his shoulders so you were resting on his face completely.

He focused on your clit, sucking and flicking the sensitive nub with a skill that left you seeing stars. Two fingers slid inside your dripping core, curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you climbing closer and closer to the edge. You let out a long throaty moan and bucked your hips a bit. Fuck he was good at that, he should be considered how many... No don't think about that right now it'll just piss you off again.

"Fuck Nyx, uuugh!"

Nyx looked up at you, a wicked grin on his face as he continued his ministrations. He could feel you starting to throb, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second. He knew you were close, could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He pulled back slightly, his fingers still pumping slowly, his thumb circling your clit with a maddening pressure.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, encouraging rumble. "Let go, babygirl. Come for me, baby, I want you to come in my mouth." His eyes held yours, a silent demand, a silent plea for you to give yourself over to the sensation, to let go and surrender to the ecstasy that awaited you.

You sink both hands into his hair and brace your shoulders back against the deck before bucking against his face again and again, chasing your orgasm so hard you wanted to cry before you felt that coll in your stomach snap, your movements jerking to a halt with a scream. Nyx groaned as he felt your walls clench and spasm around his fingers, your scream of ecstasy ringing in his ears.

"Oh good fucking girl!" He continued to lap at your dripping core, his tongue delving deep to catch every last drop of your release as you rode out the waves of your intense orgasm.

As your movements slowed and your breathing began to even out, Nyx slowly pulled back. He looked up at you, his face glistening with your essence, a look of pure male satisfaction etched into every line of his handsome face. He leaned down capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He swallowed your soft moans, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his large hands.

Nyou could barely stand and was beyond grateful when he picked you up again before climbing the few steps and laying you flat on the deck below him, bed he started pulling at the laces of his pants urgently. Nyx gazed down at you, his eyes dark and intense as he quickly worked at the laces of his pants. He could feel his cock throbbing, aching for your touch, for your heat. He needed to be inside you, needed to feel your walls wrapped around him like a velvet glove. He kicked his pants off along with his boxers, freeing his thick, hard length. It bobbed against his stomach, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He crawled up your body, settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your still sensitive entrance. Nyx leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"Ahh NYX Fuck!"

"I need you, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, urgent growl. "Fuck i need to be inside you, I'm gonna fuck you so good babygirl... Fuck look at me Fucking look at me..." He grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes as He rolled his hips, the head of his cock slipping inside your wet heat. He groaned as his head fell and his eyes rolled, letting out a silent plea for you to give him the words he so desperately needed to hear.

You lifted your shaky legs to wrap around his waist as your reached to cling to his shoulders. You hand landed firm on his chest as you tried to breath That damn second heart beat felt stronger now, and you felt like you were so warm you were gonna explode! Then you felt it, right before lined himself up with your entrance, his pulse, it matched... The burning in your chest, the need, the emotions, the pulse, you knew those signs. You didn't get a chance to think on it to hard before he thrust himself forward, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head at the delicious burn that came with the stretch.

"Nyx your- AHh! Fuck Nyx! Please your my- AHH FUUUUUCK!"

Nyx groaned loudly as he felt your tight, wet heat envelop him, your walls gripping his throbbing cock like a vice. He paused for a moment, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he fought the urge to come right then and there. "Fuck, Y/n," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect around my cock." He rolled his hips, grinding against you, letting you feel every thick, pulsing inch of him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured,

"I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much. Mm gonna to fuck you until you can't walk, your gonna be limping for days when I'm done with you." He pulled back slightly, his gaze holding yours, a look of pure, unadulterated love and desire.. and utter hunger etched into every line of his handsome face.

Nyx could feel your walls starting to flutter around his pistoning cock, could feel your body tensing as another orgasm built inside you. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he pounded into you with a ferocity that bordered on animalistic.

You could get the words out as he started thrusting into you hard and fast and fuck if it didn't make you want to let him take you whenever or wherever if it felt this good. Your mind was still screaming though the pleasure though, MATE, HE'S YOUR MATE' but you were too engulfed in him to scream anything other than his name as you felt yet another orgasm approaching quickly, fuck, the male was going to be the literal death of you!

"That's it, baby," he growled against your lips, his voice a low, urgent rumble. "Come for me, Y/n. Come all over my cock. Your doing so good babygirl, common! Please I'm so fucking close!" He angled his hips, hitting that special spot inside you with every deep, powerful thrust, determined to push you over the edge and into oblivion.

Nyx could feel his own release approaching rapidly, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your clutching heat. He was close, so close to filling you with his seed, to marking you as his mate in the most primal way possible. With a final, hard thrust and a hoarse shout of your name, he came, his hot, thick essence flooding your insides, painting your walls with his love and desire. As your high washed over you you felt it, a smaller distant snap, before you felt Nyx tense above you like a statue.

"You feel it... The bond..." You whispered in disbelief as you stared up at him, the world around you finally coming back into focus.

Nyx's eyes widened in shock as he felt the snap of the mate bond, a jolt of pure, primal energy coursing through his veins. He stared down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, a look of pure wonder etched into every line of his handsome face. He nodded slowly, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I feel it," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. "Fuck I feel it baby." He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own as he struggled to process the magnitude of what had just happened. He lifted a shaking hand, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache, and brushed a stray tear from your skin.

"I love you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice a low, fervent murmur. "More than anything. And now... Cauldron, your mine." He sealed his vow with a soft, sweet kiss, a silent promise of a love that would last a lifetime.

"I'm so sorry baby, I didn't know. Can you forgive me?" He say looking at you through half lidded eyes, his gaze hopeful as he hovered above you still. You chuckled at him before pulling him into another kiss and gently flipping his so you were straddling his hips instead.

"I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me..."

You both had stayed out there for at least another hour, you hadn't even accepted the bond but you felt like you were in the frenzy already. You must have passed out from utter exhaustion at some point because you woke up the next morning in Nyx's room snugged into his side as the morning light shifted through the blinds. You turned your gaze to look at Nyx, he looked so peaceful it made you so much more inclined to stay in bed forever.

"But you look so pretty when your sleeping."

"You know it's rude to stare..." Nyx mumbled without opening his eyes and you giggled slightly and leaned up to kiss his nose lovingly.

Nyx's eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your lips on his nose, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he blinked up at you. He reached up, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tender, loving caress. He chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through his chest.

"Pretty? I think that's supposed to be my line," he murmured, his voice still rough and gravelly with sleep. He tugged you down, capturing your mouth in a slow, deep kiss, a silent good morning greeting that made your toes curl.

As he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a look of pure, unadulterated contentment in his dark eyes. "Good morning, baby," he whispered, a hint of a growl underlying the words. "I hope you're ready for a long morning cuz I'm not nearly done with you yet." He pulled you at straddle him and rolled his hips, a clear indication of his growing arousal, a silent promise of the pleasure that awaited you both. You moaned but quickly scooted off of him before wrapping one the sheets around you and heading for his closet.

He pulled you flush against him, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip, holding you tight against the hard, muscular length of his body. "Come on baby, you can't just leave me like this..." He nipped at your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point, a silent, primal promise of the pleasure. His hand grasping your and grinding his naked cock into your palm, a small growl escaping his as he did.

"As much as I would enjoy that I think i need to go make you some breakfast. Unless you don't want me to..." You say teasingly know damn well he'd want to cement the mating bond as soon as possible. Nyx watched as you scooted away from him, a look of mild disappointment flashing across his face before being replaced by a wicked, mischievous grin. He lounged back against the pillows, his hands tucked behind his head, a look of pure, satisfaction etched into every line of his smile as he watched you wrap the sheet around your luscious curves. He cocked an eyebrow at your teasing words, a low, warning growl rumbling in his chest.

"Oh, I want you to make me breakfast, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "But can't you just stay here for a few more minutes..." He levered himself up, stalking towards you with a predatory grace, a look of pure, animalistic hunger in his dark eyes.

"you act like we will be able to keep are ands off of each other during the frenzy I think you can wait 20 minutes."

"Morning Rhys, morning Feyre."

You say chuckling as you lean up and kiss his cheek before pulling on a pair of his bants and a T-shirt and practically skipped downstairs, or as well as you could considering your legs still felt a bit numb.

"Come on, let's feed you before you eat me instead."

"you act like that would be a bad thing..." Nyx says and slaps your ass playfully and lets you leave so he can calm himself and get some pants on at least.

Once you got downstairs you saw that the coffee post was on already so you head out to the back yard deck, Nyx hot on your trail not dressed to be outside but at least he wasn't naked anymore. You stepped out to greet his parents who had breakfast out there every morning. You actively tried not to stare at the spot 5 feet away where their son had rearranged your intestines a few hours ago as you came and said hello as usual.

Nyx's parents looked up as you and Nyx stepped out onto the deck, offering you both warm smiles. Rhys, rolled his eyes as he took in Nyx's state of undress, while Feyre, his mother, simply smiled indulgently, as if this was a common occurrence. Maybe if you played it cool, they wouldn't find out that you both defiled their breakfast spot the night before.

"Good morning, Y/n," Feyre greeted, her voice warm and welcoming. "It's good to see your feeling better." She glanced at Nyx, a small dismissive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "And good morning to you too." She said to Nyx as he came over as kissed her forehead lovingly.

"morning Mama."

"Thank you sweetling but we've eaten, we were going to let you know that we are going to have to go take a trip to wind haven, Devlon is starting to act out of line so we should be back in a couple weeks."

"I'm gonna make breakfast if you want some, I can make extra." You offered, as you usually did, trying to seem like you weren't impatient for them to leave for the day. Rhys closed his paper and set it down before standing and stretching for a minute.

Rhys said calmly after offering his hand to his wife to help her stand. You were grateful that they were going to be gone considering you were planing on consummating the bond today, it doesn't tend to stay very quiet. You gave Nyx a look turning away from Rhys and Feyre as they entered the house again before you heard Rhys call over his shoulder.

"And the house better not look anything the the way we found the deck this morning by the time we get back!"

You and Nyx stared at eachother, your faces turning red and you both groaned. Well so much for them not finding out...

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading Lovelies, if you want to be added to the tag list just comment or dm me. Again comments are always welcome, I hope you enjoyed the story!

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arbitrarykiwi · 1 day ago

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Hii!! I love your writing sm so can i request a reader x thanos and nam-gyu (but mostly nam-gyu hehe) where they are like really close friends like before the games, they always used to hang out at eachothers apartments, smoked weed and all that shit. And when reader went to the games without telling anyone and she saw nam-gyu and thanos and they got really mad at reader for not telling them where she was going (even tho they did the same) but then became like rlly protective over reader throughout the games.

(I’m so sorry if it doesn’t make sense, i’m really bad with english but i tried my best 😭)

FIRST OF ALLL THANK YOU FOR MY VERY FIRST REQUEST?!

OUUU this is so fun?!!! I read smoke weed with Thanos AND Nam-gyu and was IN!!

I made definitely it pretty much straight up Nam-gyu x reader x Thanos, def more centered to Nam-gyu though! I just got too excited 😩 so you got your two boyfriends malewives

I hope you like it 🫶😩😩🫶

Warnings: 18+ drug usage, weed smoking, some mildly spicy parts, two boyfriends!!, all yall are in debt, proof read but prolly got spelling errors, in a universe where thanos and nam-gyu are besties before the squid games, probably ooc thanos and nam-gyu, i cant think of anything else.

You’re not sure exactly what your relationship with the two of them was. You never cared to ask. But fuck was it so nice.

You suppose you could say you were dating Nam-gyu, you’ve known him for a while, hanging around the same group of people, eventually ending up becoming friends with benefits- then more. You’ve gone out on dates, done many things that have exceeded the “friends with benefits” label but have never gone to call it anything. And you knew neither of you were seeing anyone else…

Well no one else besides Choi Su-bong, or Thanos as he prefers to be called. He came into the picture shortly after you and Nam-gyu have been seeing each other. The best friends they were, they had to just share something as sweet as you.

It was odd. In a good way. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation. And you didn’t mind it one bit.

They were like your two boyfriends. Though Nam-gyu makes it very obvious you were with him first and he was being gracious to share you with Thanos. The wild purple haired rapper would happily agree, finding this a more than favorable situation. It was the one thing Nam-gyu knew he had over Thanos.

They were strangely, overprotective, spoil you (in more ways than one), and after a night of partying or promoting that sleazy club- they always returned to your apartment.

Always returned to you. Always found themselves in your bed- sandwiching you between them as they pass the blunt back and forth over you- taking turns to shotgunning the smoke into your mouth. Hands gripping your jaw or throat to guide your face back and forth between their kisses.

And you loved it.

When they would practically bust down your apartment door in a pill induced haze, four hands fighting with the key you gave them to unlock it- it wasn’t going well considering they were both tripping in ways you never cared to imagine. Both of the needing to get their hands on you, to feel you- you’d meet them at the door, pulling it open to be bombarded by their groping hands and excited kisses.

And after multiple hours, and multiple rounds in positions you’ve only dreamed of- you always found yourself entangled in a sweaty mess of limbs passing the blunt over to the two of them as they came down from their highs.

“Always so good f’us.” Thanos mumbled from his spot lying on your stomach, arm splayed over your torso, keeping you pinned to the bed, placing light kisses over the bruises Nam-gyu left on your skin.

“I know… isn’t she just perfect… n’ she’s all ours” Nam-gyu would respond, placing opening mouth kisses along your neck, one of his hands placed over your breast, just kneading the flesh as if it was his own personal stress ball. They often talked like that- as if you weren’t there, just gushing to each other about how much they adore you (or how well you take both of them).

When you’d have a hard day at work, telling both of them you’re not feeling up to hanging out, just wanting to go home alone and go to bed, they would pick the fucking lock on your apartment, breaking in to make themselves comfy on your bed.

When you’d come home exhausted- not even realizing the lock was picked because they locked it behind them- and walk across your living room, down a hallway and open up your bedroom door, head lifting from the floor seeing two people you didn’t expect to be there in your bed- You’d scream, dropping your stuff.

You’d gather yourself, seeing them both shirtless on your bed, both leaned over a rolling tray that’s in between them, working to roll blunts.

Thanos is stopping to hit his vape as he places the ground up weed into the wrap, tattoos on full view. His hair is messy, but it’s not spiked up- instead it’s down in its natural state, a slight wave to the strands.

Nam-gyu even has his glasses on- something he knows you love and beg him to wear more. His hair tucked behind his ear as his ringed fingers work on his own blunt. When he wraps it, his tongue comes out of his mouth to lathe across the wrap of the blunt to seal it.

It’s a beautiful sight. Truly. But did they have to scare the life out of you?!!

“Woahhh! Easy there beautiful!” Thanos would say, sitting up from his spot on your bed, hands thrown up in a mock defensive position. They’re both giggling, find your scream and reaction to them oh so enjoyable. “Calm down baby, s’just us.” Nam-gyu would echo, holding out the finished blunt to you. “You said you were havin’ a rough day. Figure we could make it a personal night.” He hums.

You let out a sigh, your heart still racing. You glare at them angrily, clutching your chest. But it doesn’t stay long, you loosen up, shoulders dropping and nodding with a pout. A personal night is just what you need. On rare occasions you didn’t share a blunt between the three of you, three blunts would be rolled- one for each of you.

You kick off your shoes and pull off your jeans before crawling on the bed. They move the rolling tray, and you plop down on the bed face first in between them. You inhale, the scent of both of them stuck on your sheets. Their hands immediately begin to run up and down your back and arms, feather light touches calming you down.

“You guys suck for breaking in here.” Your words are muffled by the pillows of your bed. They both laugh, Nam-gyu leaning further down, hand moving up to brush your hair back. You turn your face to him, playfully glaring at him. He just scoffs at your attitude, leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. It’s soft and sweet, just what you needed after a long day.

“But ‘s just what you needed, huh?” Thanos says, leaning over you to begin peppering kisses along the back of your shoulder and down your back. He moves back up, your head turning to look at him and nodding. “Mhm…” you mumble out in a tired sound. He leans down, connecting his lips with yours- same as Nam-gyu, though his kiss is a bit more rough.

When he pulls away you flip yourself over onto your back a smile spreading across your lips as you look up to both of them looking over you, pupils already blown and eyes red. “Oh you fucks!! You started without me!”

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t help it…we had to sample the product before we came.” Nam-gyu says with a drugged out smile. You roll your eyes and playfully shove both them back while you sit up. “Whatever! Y’all are losers!! Now give me my blunt.” You tease, holding out your hand.

Thanos provides you with the blunt, placing a kiss on your knuckles as you retract your hand. You place the blunt to your lips, turning your head towards Nam-gyu who holds the lighter. He scoots closer, cupping his hand around the end of your blunt to shield your face, lighting the end.

They both sit back as they watch you take your first inhale. The smoke fills your lungs with a comforting heat, pouring out of your mouth in thick swirling trails. When you put the blunt back up to your mouth, taking a drag, the cherry lighting up in a vibrant red-orange, the both lean into you, each with a blunt hanging from their lips.

The ends of their blunts come into contact with yours, and as you continue to inhale- their blunts begin to spark and ignite. They pull back, inhaling their own fill of the weed they bought.

So there you’d be, in just a tank top and panties, both your doting male companions curled up on the bed on either side of you. Nam-guy’s head was laid on your right thigh while Thanos was laid on your left thigh.

With the hand that’s not bringing the blunt to your mouth, you’d have it brushing through their hair. You’d have to switch which hand you’re smoking with every so often as they would complain if you’d been neglecting them for too long (it would only ever be a couple minutes, they just can’t get enough of your attention!)

Other nights you found yourselves up late into the night, each doing your own thing just simply enjoying the presence of one another.

There was one hot summer night, it was so hot you were only wearing a pair of shorts and a cut off shirt of Thanos’ that you borrowed. You had three fans going in your room yet it never seemed like enough.

You were partially propped up on your bed, resting on your elbows and the inside of your knees, your head at the food end of the bed, leaning over the edge to play with Nam-gyu’s hair while he sits on the floor.

Nam-gyu was sitting with his back to the foot of the bed, legs stretched out in front of him, his finger working rapidly against the joysticks of the controller that he held in his lap, his eyes trained on the video game his was playing. He wouldn’t admit it but it was hard to focus with how nice your fingers felt playing with his hair. Nails lightly raking against his scalp as you brush the dark strands back and out of his face, fingertips brushing against his ears every so often causing goosebumps to erupt over his arms despite the hot temperatures of the room.

Thanos wasn’t absent. He was situated behind you, back against a pile of pillows so he could sit farther up on the bed rather than against the head board. He scrolls lazily on his phone, his legs spread a little so you were situated nicely against him, your legs over his, your ass nestled nicely against his lap. He uses your ass as a shelf, propping his wrist up as he aimlessly taps through his apps. His other hand is under your shorts, just resting against the flesh of your ass, squeezing the flesh softly every once in a while- he really just loved to touch you.

You’d stay like this for hours, sometimes Thanos would send you a video, your hands would depart from Nam-gyu’s hair for a moment to grab your phone and watch what he sent- laughing along with him at the video. When you’d put your phone down and turn back to Nam-gyu you’d see he had paused the game and tilted his head back to look at you with a frown.

It would only make you giggle, scooting forward a bit to lean over the bed to grab his face and place a kiss on his forehead, mumbling an ‘you’re so needy’ before returning your hands to his hair- and he resumes the game.

And you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However….

You knew running with them and the crowd you found yourself in even before you were entangled with them, it was never a safe option. Too often you heard them complaining about the debt they found themselves in- doing nothing to stop it and even making it worse with lavish parties and binges.

You yourself found yourself in hot waters, trying your best to both help them and keep yourself afloat. It wasn’t easy, all three of you were in debt. You really, really cared for both of them, but neither of them were on the best path. You couldn’t speak much better about yourself. Regardless, bills were unforgivable and work didn’t pay well. If you had all the money in the world you’d pay everything off and build a house for the three of you in some far off secluded area away from the world that was out to get all of you.

So of course when a strange, well dressed man with a brief case offered you a large amount of money to play a child’s game in the subway late one night- you couldn’t say no.

You played and played, losing more times than you can count. Repeating the same cycle of throwing the paper square, winning a few rounds before eventually having a hand collide with your cheek. And when he eventually called the game, even after your cheek is bruised and you’re begging to play again, he simply hands you brown paper card and bows- packing up his brief case with the colorful origami squares.

Before he leaves, he promises that more money, even more than you won with that game, will come if you call that number on the back of the card.

You sat in that subway for hours, missing your bus to just sit on the metal bench. In one hand you held the large sum of money you won- it would definitely help you but it wouldn’t do anything to touch the amount of debt you were in.

You return home, thankful they were both passed out in your bed. You smile to yourself, looking to them in the bed. They’re both just in boxers, very obviously having fallen asleep on opposite sides of the bed but had migrated towards each other, in a tangle of what you would call cuddling- but if you told them that what they were doing they’d definitely deny it.

It’s a sweet secret you keep to yourself. Your boys. It was just what you needed after coming home from what you just experienced. You silently shed your clothes, putting on one of Nam-gyu’s shirts, the fabric swallowing you.

You crawl into the bed, trying your best not to wake them. You settled into between them, they both stir- sleepy mumbles and acknowledgment of your presence coming out of their lips. It’s like second nature to them as they curl around your form.

Nam-gyu’s arm falls around your torso, squeezing your waist. He settles his head right in the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose along your flesh, placing a light kiss as he falls back asleep. Thanos is rested against your breast on the opposite side, arm resting on top of your stomach, right under Nam-gyu’s.

A smile spreads across your face, your eyes feeling heavy. You fall asleep quickly, the warmth of both their bodies enveloping you in a heavenly wave of comfort. The worry of debt could wait just a bit longer….

But eventually you called that number. You needed anything to help you keep yourself afloat. And after a very cryptic phone call with an automated voice, you’re given a pick up location and a date and time.

You enter into the limousine cautiously, were you really about to do this? The looming threat of eviction and debt that seems to keep rising pushes you forward. You take the handle into your shaky hands and open the black door. The interior is just as luxurious as the exterior.

You settle into the seat, body stiff and heart racing. When your eyes settle to in front of you. You see a golden piggy bank. You can hear your heart beat in your ears, your leg is bouncing anxiously. You can’t even focus on what the pig that’s seemingly a speaker is saying.

“Are you sure you’d like to continue?” The sentence brings you back out of your haze. You swallow thickly and nod. You curse to yourself, the fucking piggybank can’t see you. “Y-yes.” You croak out.

It’s silent for a moment. Almost like the golden pig is contemplating your answer. Then there’s a fog filling the car. You’re panicked, eyes wide as you inhale the gas. What the fuck did you get yourself into?

It’s not long before your eyes are heavy and whatever type of gas that was knocks you clean out.

————/————

A loud tune playing on what sounds like over head speakers is causing you to groan and stir. Your eyes open but are soon shut back, blinded by the large florescent lights that line the ceiling of where ever you are. You groan, sitting up. You open your eyes again, squinting them and looking down to try and adjust to the light.

You’re on a bed you see. It’s high up. It looks over what seems like hundreds of other beds, hundreds of people beginning to wake up like you. You see they’re all in matching track suits, all sporting different numbers. You furrow your eyebrows, confused. Your memory was foggy but you knew you were going to join some games for money- and this was not what you were expecting.

You look out over the room, it’s a large warehouse like area. Bricks and various drawings line the walls. You kneel, trying to get a better look. Up front there’s a raised area, almost like a stage. There also seems to be only three doors in this large room. One large one behind the raised platform of the room and two smaller ones level with the ground on either side of the raised platform. None of them had handles.

Seriously, what the fuck did you get yourself into?!?!

You watch as people begin to file out of the beds, congregating in the center of the room, exchanging confused and uneasy glances at their new roommates. If you weren’t so on edge you would have thought this was neat, like a social experiment of abnormal gatherings and you were the onlooking researcher. But you weren’t the researcher, you were also one of the guinea pigs stuck in the experiment.

You stay put, figuring it’s best to stay back as the majority of people decent into the middle of the room. Your eyes dart around anxiously, trying to take in every last detail of the brick prison you’ve woken up in.

Your attention is drawn back to the podium when the large door opens, multiple masked guards walk out, in pink tracksuits with shapes on their masks. This is so fucking weird. You thought to yourself. They begin to explain why you are all here- that you all called that same number.

You watch as someone calls out, angrily shouting about how they were drugged and basically kidnapped. You hear murmurs of “yeah”’s fall out of other people’s mouths, agreeing with the stranger.

From the high bunk you found yourself on you, looked at the guards, standing stoically as the hundreds of individuals begin to angrily talk over each other. Yelling out to the guards about belongings and being stripped naked to be put in these track suits. You didn’t bother to chime in, already feeling weird enough about this situation you woke up in, you did not need more attention on you.

That’s when a familiar voice pipes up. He’s arguing with the guards. Over shoes of all things. Your eyes dart over the crowd hoping you wouldn’t see what you thought you would….but you did….purple hair.

It can’t be him. You think to yourself. You’re hoping it isn’t, there’s plenty of other people who have purple hair. But when the guard retaliates by playing a video on the large screen behind them, your heart drops.

“Choi Su-bong, player 230…” you don’t even hear what else the guard says, your eyes are trained to the screen watching your purple hair partner hit his vape.

So it is him…

Your eyes dart down to the bright purple hair in the sea of players. Next to Thanos, leaning up against his back over his shoulder is Nam-gyu. You can tell it’s him. Your heart drops…they’re both here. They both played that same game you did, more than likely getting slapped, then getting drugged and eventually ending up exactly where you were.

You were pissed. Was it irrational? Yes, you made the exact same choice they did. But you were the voice of reason in whatever relationship you three had, they promised you they wouldn’t do anything dumb- yet here they are. It’s dumb for you to be here too but hey! You’re the angel out of the three of them, you deserved to do something dumb.

You were about to make your way down the stairs, to haul yourself through the sea of people to scold them but when the guard at the podium says your name- throwing the video of you getting slapped and your debt amount to the mass of players- you know you’re fucked.

You can see the way both of their shoulders fall, the way both of them tense up. Then they’re both rapidly looking around, you know they’re about to scold you. You swear to yourself, of course all three of you signed up for some sketchy game after getting slapped by some creepy salesman. Just your luck.

Your eyes widen like a deer in headlights when you realize Nam-gyu has spotted you. It’s like a sniper looking down the scope at their target. You can see him nudge Thanos, pointing you out to the purple haired man.

You know you’re about to get reamed.

They both look at you, it’s a strange mix of relief, worry and anger. You’re literally frozen like a kid who got caught sneaking cookies in the middle of the night- thinking that if you freeze on spot you won’t be able to be seen.

The crowd begins to mumble to each other, a mix of hushed whispers and angered shouts. You see them begin to push through the crowd and you sigh- you know you might as well accept your fate. If you were in this strange place in this very unique situation- at least you’re with them. You make your way down the metal stairs, eyebrows furrowed- thankful you had them here but pissed off that they went ahead and gambled again- sure you’re a hypocrite for doing the same thing….but that’s different. Right?

When you get to the bottom of the metal stairs, white sneakers hitting the concrete floor they’re shoving past the last wall of people and walking quickly towards you. You begin to open your mouth to scold them but Thanos is picking you up off your feet and pushing you into the corner of the room- under the metal bunks and away from the other players.

Nam-gyu is right behind him, a scowl on his face.

They didn’t know what was going down here in this place you all found yourself waking up in, but they knew they didn’t need these other people here spying in on your relationship. They were both narcissists at heart- they wanted to keep up appearances.

You’re caged into the wall, looking up at them defiantly, trying to keep your look of anger as they tower over you.

If it was any other situation you would have found it hot- the way they look over you, both glaring down at you with a look of disappointment and and the usual hunger they have when they look at you. But you’re so mad at them. You can’t believe they did the same thing you did. You also didn’t even know the extent of Thanos’ debt, you can only imagine what Nam-gyu’s was, and there they were, obviously having gambling away with the same creepy subway salesman to have made it here.

It doesn’t matter that you did the same thing.

They’re both equally as angry. For one you were in the subway alone in the middle of the night, as evidence from the video the guards played- something they hated you doing. One or both of them would show up to accompany you to where ever you needed to go like guard dogs. Why didn’t you text them to ask them to come with you like you normally would when you had to go somewhere?

And for as much as they knew about you, you kept your debt private. So the fact you were even here- they now knew you obviously were in the same shit they were in. They both were irritated you didn’t tell them, they would have helped you (even though they literally didn’t have the money to).

You look to their jackets. The numbers 124 and 230 stitched to the patch of the jacket. You look down at yours 014. You wonder if the numbers had anything to do with who called that damned number first- securing their spot in this game earlier. If it was…you apparently called in first.

It seems the stare down ends when you all speak at once, the tension finally reaching its boiling point

“You dumb motherfuckers!”

“Are you stupid?!”

“Señorita! Why are you here???”

You all kind of stand there for a second after all speaking hushed angry whispers. All sharing a similar look of anger. “You went to the subway alone at night!?” Nam-gyu begins to scold. “You were all on our asses about gambling and look- there you were gambling and getting slapped in the subway!” Thanos says, his tone angry but his voice is still in a hushed whisper.

You immediately turn to Thanos, shoving an accusatory finger to his sternum, “I’m not the one 1.19 billion in the hole.” You seethe. That seems to shut him up, obviously angering him even more but he just clenches his jaw.

“Okay, well you’re obviously in debt too if you’re here” Nam-gyu begins trying to defend both of them. You whip your head towards him, your look is enough to kill a man. He is faced with the realization that a lot of your debt probably stems from being with them- being around them. They both don’t have the best lifestyle and neither do you, hell you were running the same game they were when Nam-gyu met you, you were tripping at a club when he first met you- you weren’t exactly a saint. Nam-gyu always thought you could do better than that, than them. But you never ran from them, sure you were way less wild than when he first met you, but you still kept around the same people and surrounded yourself with the lifestyle.

Nam-gyu can speak, instead he surges forward, pulling you into him and wrapping one arm around your waist- the other cradling your head against his chest. He didn’t like knowing that you went through the same process he did with getting into this situation. He didn’t like knowing that he was part of the reason you were here. He didn’t like knowing you were now stuck in this same prison of unknowns that they were. You didn’t deserve it.

You’re squished against him, head facing towards Thanos who’s still staring at you disapprovingly but it’s so much softer than before. You make a useless attempt at frowning at him, although your cheeks are squished under Nam-guy’s hold- making it look like an adorable pout.

He smiles, it’s a small one- but a smile nonetheless, reaching over to smooth out your hair and cup your cheek- the same one he witnessed you getting slapped on by that salesman. “Can’t believe he touched you like that…” He mumbles, it��s a low growl.

“You’re so fucking stupid for coming here….” Nam-gyu mumbles, his words harsh but you can tell it’s because he’s genuinely worried, his mind replaying that dammed video those guards blasted on the big screen. “I’ll kill that sleazy fuck who did that to you..” he says, his hands shaking against you as he keeps you cradled against him.

You let out a huff, pulling apart from Nam-gyu to lightly shove his chest, then turning to Thanos to do the same. “I’m stupid?! You two did the same thing!! After I told both of you to quit wasting your money- which encompasses gambling on some kid game and coming here!” You huff out looking between both of them.

“Baby, we just wanted to get some money f’us.” Nam-gyu says, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, squishing them inwards. His voice is sickeningly sweet, you know he’s trying to con you out of your anger, manipulating you how he wanted to get his way. And it works

“You’re both schtill so dumb n I’m schtill mad.” You hiss, words slurred by Nam-guy’s hands. Your eyebrows furrowed and lips turned into a pout- although it’s a sorry excuse for one with the way his hands are pressing your cheeks together. The two men laugh, it’s a precious sight truly.

So mad at them but still so adorable, like an angry little kitten. “Mhm…bet you are you lil’ minx.” Nam-gyu coos at you with a wide grin on his face- you can’t help but to ease up, the feeling of his twitching hands holding your face and his wide smile makes your heart swell.

“You also pulled the same dumb fuckin move though, princess.” Thanos says, his voice scolding but he’s smiling along with Nam-gyu.

The guards up front are beginning to say something about signing a waiver to continue to play, the players beginning to line up.

“So just stick by us n we’ll keep ya safe. With all three of us here we will make so much money.” Nam-gyu sings to you in a sickly sweet tone that you know is going to make you lose your anger. You can’t stay mad at him for long.

But you’re still about to protest- yes money sounds amazing but being drugged to get here, stripped of your clothes and put into matching tracksuits- something isn’t right. Nam-gyu shuts you up by placing a kiss on your lips. It’s slow, making your knees weak, making sure you feel every inch of his lips. And when he pulls back Thanos takes his place, kissing you, it’s a soft but eager, your mind going blank with kisses from both of them. Any retaliation you could think of was washed away by their lips- which is exactly what they wanted.

“C’mon princess, go sign it so we can all win big and get these games on the road.” Thanos says pulling away and pushing you lightly out in front of them. Nam-gyu places a light slap on your ass before following directly behind you.

The two of them walking so their chests practically touch your back. And when you go up and sign the paper, they cheer you on from the crowd.

It’s impossible for anyone to get near you in the games without the two of them, one over each shoulder judging the person to see if they’re good enough to be near you. With your two guard dogs protecting you, you three are unstoppable.

170 notes · View notes

cei1ne · 3 days ago

Text

—You suffer from anemia yet your boyfriends as supportive as ever, just in his own way

დ .•*”Summary: You suffer from anemia but you don’t let it stop you from becoming a hero, yet, your boyfriend’s a stubborn mess and forced you to rest.

༺ღ༒Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Anemic!Reader

☆࿐ཽ༵Tags: High school; Relationship; UA; GN!Reader

＊*•̩̩͙Warnings: Cursing?; Anemia; Overprotective boyfriend

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Word count: 3.8k

‧͙⁺˚*･A/N: Someone requested this but it was anonymous and my tumblr was bugging lately! It just got deleted but I still had lots of fun writing this and I hope you’ll have just as much fun reading this! And I didn’t know if they meant headcanons or Scenario so I just did both!

Headcanons: Katsuki Bakugou x GN!Anemic!Reader

1. Worry Masked by Irritation: Bakugou would constantly mask his concern for your condition by pretending to be annoyed. He’d grumble about you being “too weak” but would secretly go above and beyond to ensure you’re healthy.

2. Diet Control Freak: He’d take control of your meals, researching iron-rich foods and sneaking them into your diet. If you tried to resist, he’d shove a plate at you with a snarky remark like, “Eat this before I lose it.”

3. Hyper Awareness: Bakugou would become hyper-aware of your signs of fatigue or dizziness. If you so much as swayed while standing, he’d immediately drag you to sit down.

4. Loud Protector: If anyone dared to tease or question you about your condition, he’d explode (figuratively and maybe literally). “You got something to say?! Say it to me!”

5. Gentle in Private: Though Bakugou is explosive in public, in private, he’d show softer affection. He’d tuck blankets around you, carry you to bed if you overexerted yourself, and grumble softly, “Don’t push yourself, idiot.”

6. Hates Seeing You Weak: Seeing you too tired to get up genuinely unnerves him. He’d pace, bark orders, and eventually sit by your side, silently holding your hand.

7. Acts of Service: Bakugou would do small things like fetching water, helping you stand, or taking on your chores. Of course, he’d act like it’s no big deal. “You’re lucky I’m not a total asshole, huh?”

8. Research Master: He’d secretly learn about anemia from every available resource and even consult Recovery Girl or doctors. He wouldn’t tell you about it, though; he’d just start doing things that showed he knew what he was talking about.

9. Training Adjustment: He’d modify training sessions for you, subtly encouraging you to take breaks without making you feel weak. He might even offer to spar lightly to “keep you on your toes.”

10. Blunt Reassurance: If you ever felt self-conscious about your condition, Bakugou would bluntly shut you down. “You’re not weak. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Rest is for the Weak (But Not for You)

The morning started like any other. The dorms buzzed with activity as Class 1-A prepared for the day ahead. You had been one of the first to wake, though not because you were particularly eager. A familiar heaviness sat on your chest, and your limbs felt as though they were weighed down by lead.

It was nothing new. This was your normal.

“Y/N, you doing okay?” Mina’s cheerful voice rang out as she caught sight of you rubbing your temples. “You look kinda pale.”

You gave her a small smile, brushing it off. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You sure? I can grab you something from the cafeteria real quick if you need it!”

“Thanks, Mina, but I’m good,” you said firmly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

She hesitated but eventually nodded, skipping off to join the others. As you gathered your things and headed toward the training grounds, you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

Turning your head, you locked eyes with Bakugou.

He didn’t say anything, but his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow made it clear he’d heard the exchange. You pretended not to notice and hurried to catch up with the others, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.

_________________________________

The training session was supposed to be routine—a series of combat drills designed to test reflexes and stamina. You had been paired with Midoriya for a sparring match, something that usually wouldn’t faze you.

But today, every movement felt sluggish. Your punches lacked their usual strength, and your dodges were just a fraction too slow. Midoriya, ever the observant one, noticed almost immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, concern etched into his face as he blocked one of your weak punches.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, dodging to the side as he retaliated.

But the dizziness was getting worse. Your vision blurred at the edges, and the sound of your own heartbeat roared in your ears.

“Y/N—”

“Stop holding back!” you snapped, cutting him off.

Midoriya flinched but complied, though his hits were clearly pulled. You hated it—hated the pity in his eyes, the way he seemed afraid to fight you properly. You wanted to prove you could keep up, that you weren’t a liability.

And then your knees buckled.

_________________________________

“Oi! What the hell are you doing, Deku?!”

Bakugou’s voice rang out across the gym, loud enough to make everyone pause. You barely registered the sound of his boots stomping across the floor before he was standing between you and Midoriya, his crimson eyes blazing.

“I-It wasn’t his fault—” you started, but Bakugou cut you off with a sharp glare.

“Shut it, dumbass,” he growled before turning back to Midoriya. “What the hell were you thinking, letting them push themselves like that?”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond but quickly decided against it, his expression shifting to one of resignation.

“And you,” Bakugou snarled, rounding on you. “What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, trying to push past him.

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

“You’re not fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re done. Sit down before you pass out.”

_________________________________

Bakugou practically dragged you to the edge of the gym, ignoring your protests as he deposited you on a bench. The other students watched from a distance, their whispered conversations filling the air.

“Bakugou, you’re overreacting,” you muttered, crossing your arms as he crouched in front of you.

“Overreacting, my ass,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “You’re pale as shit, and you can’t even stand up straight. Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

You glared at him, but the dizziness made it hard to keep your head up. Bakugou noticed immediately and let out an irritated sigh.

“Tch. Stay here,” he ordered before stomping off.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a water bottle and a protein bar. He shoved them at you without a word, his scowl deepening when you hesitated.

“Eat. Drink. Now,” he barked.

“Bakugou, I don’t need—”

“Don’t argue with me, dumbass!” he snapped, his voice louder than necessary. “Just do it!”

You flinched but complied, taking small sips of water and nibbling on the protein bar.

________________________________

When the session ended, Bakugou didn’t give you a choice about walking back to the dorms together. He hovered close, his sharp eyes scanning you for any signs of weakness.

“You didn’t have to walk me back,” you muttered, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

“Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t carry your ass,” he shot back.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. But as you reached the dorms, Bakugou’s voice softened.

“You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You glanced at him, surprised by the shift in his demeanor. “I do take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “If you did, I wouldn’t have to babysit you all the damn time.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up with you, and you leaned against the wall for support.

Bakugou was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm as he steadied you.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he grumbled. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”

_________________________________

Once inside your room, Bakugou made himself at home, pulling a chair up beside your bed as you sat down.

“You’re not staying,” you said, giving him a tired look.

“Like hell I’m not,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re an idiot,” he shot back, though there was no real heat behind his words.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the tension gradually fading as the weight of the day settled over you. Bakugou’s presence, as much as you hated to admit it, was comforting.

_________________________________

The silence in your dorm room was a strange thing. Bakugou wasn’t one to enjoy stillness, yet here he was, sitting in your chair like he belonged there, arms crossed as he glared at the wall. The occasional sound of his foot tapping against the floor was the only thing breaking the quiet.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you said finally, unable to take the tension anymore.

“Too bad,” he replied curtly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You’re seriously overreacting. I just got a little dizzy.”

He turned his sharp gaze on you, the intensity in his crimson eyes making you freeze. “A little dizzy? You couldn’t even finish training without almost eating shit in front of everyone.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you muttered, looking away.

“I’m not saying it to piss you off, dumbass,” he snapped, leaning forward slightly. “I’m saying it because you’re being reckless.”

You stared at him, surprised by the raw frustration in his voice. Katsuki Bakugou was never one to sugarcoat his words, but there was something different about the way he spoke to you now—like he was genuinely afraid for you.

“I just don’t want to hold anyone back,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s expression softened for a moment, though his scowl quickly returned. “You’re not holding anyone back,” he said firmly. “You think I give a crap if you can’t keep up sometimes? You’re not weak, Y/N.”

The words caught you off guard. You’d always thought Bakugou saw weakness as unforgivable, that he’d look down on anyone who couldn’t match his relentless energy. Hearing him say otherwise left you speechless.

“Tch. Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m just telling the truth. Now shut up and rest.”

_________________________________

Despite Bakugou’s insistence that you stay in bed, word of your condition had spread among your classmates, and it wasn’t long before a few of them came knocking.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Mina burst into the room, her usual enthusiasm dampened by concern. She carried a small bag of snacks, which she set on your bedside table with a flourish.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bakugou interjected from his seat, his voice dripping with irritation. “Now get out.”

“Bakugou, be nice!” Kirishima appeared behind Mina, giving his friend a pointed look before turning to you. “We just wanted to check on you, Y/N. You scared us a little back there.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, guilt creeping into your tone. “I just… overdid it.”

“You think?” Bakugou muttered under his breath.

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, we’re glad you’re okay. Just take it easy, all right? And don’t let Bakugou boss you around too much.”

“Too late for that,” you joked, earning a glare from Bakugou.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Mina and Kirishima finally left, though not without a promise to check in on you again later. As soon as the door closed, Bakugou let out an irritated huff.

“They don’t know when to leave,” he grumbled.

“They’re just worried,” you said, leaning back against the pillows. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a damn audience while I’m trying to take care of you,” he shot back.

You raised an eyebrow. “Trying to take care of me? Is that what this is?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing again.

_________________________________

That night, long after Bakugou had begrudgingly left your room, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His words from earlier echoed in your mind.

“You’re not weak, Y/N.”

It was such a simple statement, yet it meant more to you than you could explain. For as long as you could remember, you’d been battling the fear that your anemia made you a burden. You hated the idea of being someone others had to take care of.

But Bakugou didn’t see you that way.

You weren’t sure when he’d started paying such close attention to you, but his protectiveness was undeniable. It was infuriating at times, but it also warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t ignore.

_________________________________

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the smell of food.

Groggily sitting up, you saw Bakugou standing by your desk, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“What’s it look like?” he replied, setting the tray down on your lap. “You’re eating before training today.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You made this?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s just eggs and toast. Not like I cooked a five-star meal.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you picked up your fork. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

As you ate, you noticed how he lingered by the door, his usual impatience replaced by something softer.

“Are you gonna watch me the whole time?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he shot back.

_________________________________

Over the next few weeks, Bakugou’s concern for you became an undeniable part of your routine. He started carrying snacks and water bottles with him during training, shoving them at you whenever he thought you looked tired. He adjusted his own training schedule to keep an eye on you, even if it meant sparring with someone else so he could watch from a distance.

And while he never outright said it, his actions spoke volumes.

One day, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the gym, your legs dangling over the side as you tried to catch your breath. Bakugou appeared beside you, handing you a cold water bottle without a word.

“Thanks,” you said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

“Tch. Don’t mention it,” he muttered, sitting down next to you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the gym fading into the background. It was moments like this that reminded you just how much Bakugou cared, even if he’d never admit it.

“You’re not weak, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you said quietly, using his first name for the first time in weeks.

He didn’t say anything, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

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catbolt · 3 days ago

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Hi! I have 2 chronic illnesses (specifically me/cfs and fibromyalgia) and I've always wondered how the boys would help to take care of a chronically ill mc? I know Xavier would probably nap with her, but I was hoping you could write some drabbles or something please? I really, really appreciate you reading this, even if you don't take it up. Thank you! :) <3

— TAKE CARE

[TAGS] fluff, xavier x mc, zayne x mc, rafayel x mc, sylus x mc (no caleb bc tbh i'm not quite sure how i want to write him yet), 2nd person but canon hunter mc is referenced

[A/N] hii anon! did this sort of headcanon style, hope it's to your liking! don't have any personal experience with chronic illness so kept things pretty vague to avoid mischaracterization (but hopefully still suiting the prompt.)

xavier

doesn’t overburden you with too much talk or make a big deal out of your flare ups, instead spending most of the time just silently, patiently by your side . Napping, watching mindless TV, reading a book side by side with you in bed.

xavier def gives parallel play vibes-- even if you two aren’t doing the same activity he’ll be next to you, comforting you with the simple warmth of his presence. “need anything?” “want a massage?” “tired?” is as much as he’ll probe. he understands what you need without you even having to say it, often anticipating your needs before you even realize them yourself.

personally he does not gaf about work drama but since he knows you get antsy not knowing what's happening at hunter HQ whenever you have to call out from work, he always prepares a rundown of any work tea for you. he finds himself being even more nosy and attuned to the other hunters at work, just so he can see your eyes light up whenever he gets to tell you about which of the new recruits are flirting with who.

zayne

sometimes it’s a little hard for him not to go fully into doctor mode whenever you're having symptoms, but he tries to rein it in so as to not frustrate/overwhelm you.

he would have very strong reactions to any signs of physical distress from you. seeing you in the middle of a flare up makes him have to confront that you're not one of his patients, you're... you, which is harder, makes things infinitely more complicated. he can't just be calm and orderly as he usually is and prides himself on being when it's you who's in pain.

he's trained himself to panic less and stay logical when it comes to your symptoms, but he has to concentrate to do so, walking himself mentally through his own medical training on your condition to talk him down from overreacting. you wouldn't have thought a doctor of all people would be the type to be on edge about something like this, knowing he's familiar with similar conditions, but for zayne, he definitely has to care for you while also battling his own emotional rollercoaster.

rafayel

cheers you up with little doodles and gifts, trying to keep your spirits high whenever symptoms get particularly bad.

i have this image of him just making little sculptures out of shells from the beach and putting them on your nightstand to decorate the space especially during those times where you're stuck in bed for days. even if he can't be around 24/7, he makes sure reminders of him are around when you go to sleep and when you wake up

video calls you a lot whenever he's out and about by himself, at the studio, taking a walk, even at events, because he doesn't want you to miss out on any of the fun even when you can't physically join.

sylus

definitely the doesn't ask questions and anticipates your needs easily type. sometimes he even overdoes it because he gets carried away but it's sweet either way, like when he prepares a bubble bath for you with a bath bomb and a bunch of essential oils to soothe your muscles and then you have to remind him you took a shower like three hours ago already

sends mephisto to watch over you during flare ups when you're napping or if he's out, and will send checking in texts frequently even though you know he has a full live feed of you from mephisto.

makes luke and kieran also do whatever you need whenever he's not around and you're having strong symptoms. notes under the door saying "boss wants you to check your phone" "boss wants to know if you need anything" "boss says he's working late and that he ordered you dinner, so you should eat without him" are a frequent amusing feature of sylus' care

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mossangelll · 21 hours ago

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oh my lord my kingdom for yandere vander hcs plz all i can picture is him being this firm gentle giant -- "i'm doing this for your own good" kinda shit

Gentle Giant - Yandere!Vander x Reader

a/n: this was super fun, tysm for the request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this but uni has been a LOT and i’m adjusting to not having as much free time as i did before. you guys don’t get how wonderful it was for me to write something again - especially a yandere fic hehe >:)

cw: yandere behaviour, physical abuse, kidnapping, suggested noncon, pretty sure reader is gn but there might be slip ups

Laughter.

Shouting.

The screech of rickety chairs, of glass tankards shattering into a million pieces, of drunken regulars getting into yet another fight over who knows what.

All served as excruciatingly painful reminders of the life that was snatched away from you the second he laid eyes on you; the sad part is, you didn’t even know it was all gone until it was too late.

But you’ve spent too many sleepless nights pondering over what could’ve been, sick to your stomach over what he planned for you and now you’re left to stew in your rage at what he’s made you become - a living ghost forced to sit on the sidelines as everyone else gets to live.

You let out a sigh and shut your book closed - after all, you hadn’t really been reading it, your eyes scanning over the same line again and again and again. You hop up from your bed, admittedly the cosiest thing you’ve felt though you’d hate to admit it to Vander’s face, and let your restless feet pace across the wooden floor as your mind clouded over with plans to escape.

You look over your shoulder to the door at the top of the stairs and found no shadows from where the light slipped under the crack of the door. Slowly, you creep over to the section of the floorboards covered in a threadbare carpet which hid your biggest secret.

Your escape tunnel.

Well, more like the startings of an escape tunnel. You knew from overhearing one of Vander’s conversations that there was a sewage system right underneath your feet and with enough patience you would be able to carve an opening and make your escape.

You whipped out the poorly made shiv from beneath your shirt and got to sawing at the planks of wood - you’d made a lot of progress in a short amount of time and your heart swelled with hope at the idea of freedom. Time flew by as you worked on hands and knees on your secret “project” with fervour, not even paying attention to what was going on in your surroundings.

“Love, what are you doing?”

Vander. Fuck.

What was he doing back so soon? He’s already checked up on you for the night and he should be busy tending to the patrons of the bar, not down here!

You crane your head to him so slowly you feel that you’ll never face him, but when you do you feel your stomach drop and the acidic burn of bile claw up your throat.

Vander, in all his tall glory, was looming over you with his burly arms crossed and his face contorted in a terrifying mix of anger and disappointment, his brow furrowed and the frown lines by his mouth becoming more pronounced by the second.

The shiv in your hand clatters when it hits the floor, your shaking hands unable to keep a steady grip on it, and your mouth goes dry as you both look to the source of the noise.

You try to scramble for an explanation, anything to take his attention away from you but it’s useless, that you both know. He shakes his head in silent fury and crouches down to your level, eyes brimming with outrage as his heavy hand grips onto your shoulder, effectively stopping your dumb rambling in its tracks.

You gasp as you feel his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“I thought we were over this, Love. Seems like you never learn.” His rough voice sounded cold and detached in a way you’d never heard it before and it frightened you to your core.

He drags you across the floor, rough wood splintering into your knees, and sets himself down on your chair. Vander doesn’t even give you a moment to gather your bearings before he manhandles you once again, this time his arms scooping around your midsection and pulling you head down onto his lap. You struggle against him and try desperately to free himself but it’s as if the man is a brick wall.

Vander grunts as his large hand pulls your pants down from your still-squirming legs with no regards to the anxiety and indignation flowing from you.

W-what is he doing? He said he would never do anything like this to you even if you thought that one day it migh-

SMACK.

You immediately still under his iron hold and it doesn’t take long before you’re reduced to a sniffling mess, smearing tears and snot into his clothed thigh yet thankful that at least your cries were muffled. As if this wasn’t humiliating enough.

“Oh, Love. I’m doing this for your own good, you of all people should know better - that it’s my duty to steer you on the right path, hmm?” He tutted at you in such a soft way you would think he was calming you after a bad day, not punishing you for your “insolence”.

But he was right. You did know better and only you knew what a depraved and corrupt soul lingered behind his gentle veneer.

It sickened you to the core at how remorseful he sounded - how dare he?! As if he was forced to treat you like a prisoner and strip you of your human rights when this was entirely of his own doing?

It feels like it goes on forever, the way he alternates between spanking you with all his might and then placating you with honey-coated whispers. Your sniffles turn to wails and those wails turn to screams and all you can think is how impossible it should be that absolutely no one in the tavern above can hear your cries.

Vander doesn’t let the punishment go on for long though, flipping you over so you’re forced to stare into his steel blue eyes which were marred with worry lines.

“I’m sorry, love, but I did this for us. In fact, I would say it’s brought us closer, wouldn’t you think?” The rough timbre of his voice and his salt and pepper hair warmed you up from the inside against the voice in your head screaming against it. You scrunch your eyes closed to block out the intrusive thoughts that make your head sway.

You feel lightheaded, as if you’re floating away to some distant place far, far away from the terror of your prison.

He lets out a weary sigh when you stay silent and picks you up as if you were nothing but a sheet of paper, taking you to your bed on the other side of the small room. He lays you face down, lower half still uncovered, and his steps fade away.

Eventually he comes back, it could have been a few seconds or even an hour; you’re too far gone to keep a solid grasp on reality. You jump as you feel his warm hands caress the raw skin he abused, a cooling salve being massaged into the tender flesh. He hums as he works to take away the sting he left behind and once he views his work satisfactory, he leans in closer to snuggle your hapless body.

You don’t dare protest or inch away after what you just endured - you would be crazy to try anything ever again.

So you lay face down and pretend to be asleep as you let him continue to snuggle into your body, not making a single noise when his chapped lips kiss your neck with no intention of stopping, barely shuddering when his large hands, the same hands capable of such pain, gently stroke the crown of your head as if you’re the most precious thing to him.

It’s only when a particularly loud bang resonates from upstairs that he actually lets up and you feel yourself let out a sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding in so tightly.

“G’night, love.” You hear him blow out the lamps by your bed as his steps echo then fade into nothingness as they’re carried away by the cacophony of noise from the bar and you’re shrouded in darkness.

Finally, you’re alone.

masterlist

#vander x reader #vander #vander arcane #yandere vander x reader #yandere arcane #yandere x reader #yandere #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane request #request

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hyperbolicreverie · 1 day ago

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for the “I wish you’d write a fic where…” ask

Lami Lives AU bc we unfortunately don’t have enough of them and I think your spin on it would be an interesting and fun read

This one was tricky, because I don't currently have any ideas swimming around in the background for one of these. I hope this satisfies!

Law wakes to the insistent pressure of a finger against his cheek, and he doesn't even need to hear the cheerful humming coming from his assailant to know what to expect.

"It is too early for this," he mutters, though he's aware it will have absolutely no effect. Protests never did with his sister.

"It's two in the afternoon," Lami responds, and then Law is subjected to an uncomfortable rush of cold air as his blankets are thrown off of him.

Law would deny under torture the noise he makes at the sudden discomfort.

"Come on," Lami continues, as unmoved by his annoyance as ever. "We've been docked at Sabaody for two hours, and you've told enough horror stories about the marines in this place that no one was going to step foot off the Tang without your say-so. So come on, Captain. I have an amusement park I want to explore."

"No amusement parks," Law mutters, finally giving in to the inevitable and sitting up. His sister is wearing a jacket in the same colors as the hoodie he's thrown...somewhere...except the Heart's jolly Roger is on her back instead, looking for all intents and purposes like she's ready for adventure.

When Lami makes a noise of protest, despite the fact that Law just had this conversation with her yesterday, he just holds up a hand and gently pushes her out of the way so he can find where that hoodie went.

"We are debarking for two reasons: to get more supplies and to gather information on Doflamingo's operations. Nothing else."

"Bullshit," Lami says, but it's with a smile. "All the other people the papers have been talking about are here, and you'd look weak if you hid on the Tang the entire time. Trafalgar Law's got to pretend to be the big scary bogeyman that he likes pretending to be in public."

"Gathering information about potential rivals is also a legitimate use of my time," Law says stiffly. "Which is why I need you to stay here."

This time, Lami's frustration is much more stark, and Law would feel guilty if he didn't have good reason to ask it of her. "Look; he says. "Most of the crew is going to be gathering supplies as quickly as possible, and you and I both know leaving a skeleton crew on the Tang isn't the best choice. You know her inside and out, which means that if we need to make a hasty exit I need someone who can get her up and running fast on board."

"Then leave Hakugan! Or Bepo! They don't like big crowds, anyway!"

"Hakugan doesn't bully shopkeepers. And people let their guard down around Bepo," Law points out. "You routinely terrify them. And then you get offended and try to fight them. Sabaody is not the place for unnecessary fights, Lami. All it takes is mildly annoying one shopkeeper and then we've got half a battalion of marines coming down on our heads."

Lami groans, but any further protests seem to have been laid to rest for the moment. "I hate when you use logic," she spits. "Fine. I'll watch the Tang. But you better get me a hell of a souvenir."

"I'm sure we can manage something," Law says. "And hey, think of it this way; since we don't need to go through the coating process, we'll probably get to Fishman Island before anyone else who's currently here. Might be able to spend some extra time there, too."

Lami eyes him up and down. "That is an acceptable compromise," she finally says loftily. "Also, your hair is a mess."

"That's what the hat is for," Law mutters, shoving the article in question down over his eyes and grabbing Kikoku from her resting place by the bed. "Now, come on. The sooner I leave the sooner we get what we came for, and the sooner we can make decisions about next steps. I'd like for the next few days to be relatively calm, thanks."

#rev speaks

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t00tsmcgee · 2 days ago

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Rook as a Companion Banter Episode One: Neve

Not sure how many of these I will do but I wrote a BUNCH of banter with every companion for my own writing challenge so y'all are just gonna have to bear with me or block the tag 'Rook companion banter'

Part One (Neve)| Part Two (Bellara)

Little backstory for this character. His name is Calais Ingellvar, he's a Mournwatcher, and is referred to as a spirit guide, granted the power of a spirit of Mercy who saved him when he was just a baby, before he was found by Vorgoth in the Necropolis.

Cal has the ability to reach into the veil and speak with spirits as if they're standing right there, without them manifesting. He's also a very talented healer due to his empathetic abilities. His left leg was severely injured in the same attack that prompted the spirit of Mercy to save him as an infant, and the injury never healed right. He walks with a cane/staff to help him get around better. He has two pet rats, and is romantically interested in Lucanis.

If you want more details, he has a whole post to himself here!

Calais: “Neve, how about a game?” Neve: “A game? What sort of game?” Calais: “Two truths and a lie. I tell you three things and you have to pick out which is the lie. I played it with Vorgoth all the time.” Neve: “Alright, should be fun.” Calais: “You should be good at this, by all accounts. Being a detective and all.” Neve: “We’ll see if you’re good at lying or not.” Calais: “Oh no, I’m awful. Vorgoth used to beat me at it all the time.”

Neve: “I once solved a case involving a dowager, a dog and a drug dealer.” Calais: “Sure.” Neve: “I only ever eat fried fish.” Calais: “Problematic, but continue.” Neve: *light chuckle* “I like reading historic novels.” Calais: “Ohh, I don’t know. The first one is true?” Neve: “It is.” Calais: “I haven’t seen you read any novels since we got to the Lighthouse.. but I’ve also not seen you eat anything other than fried fish.” Neve: “So which will it be?” Calais: “I’m going with the fish one isn’t true. At least I hope it’s not.” Neve: “You got it. I also eat vegetables. Sometimes.” Calais: “Well, thank the maker for that.”

Neve: “I like to play chess.” Calais: “Oh are we playing again? Hit me.” Neve: “I once staked out a case for a full two weeks.” Calais: “Right.” Neve: “Maybe I don’t hate that Lucanis is introducing me to a richer and more varied diet.” Calais: “Honestly, me too. He is a very good cook.” Neve: “He is.” Calais: “I say the stake out is fake.” Neve: “Right again. I must not be very good at lying.” Calais: “This one was easy. I’ve seen you play chess with yourself and others. And I see you gorging on Lucanis’ food every day.” Neve: “What can I say? It’s good.” Calais: “It is.”

Calais: “I have a spirit grandma.” Neve: *laughing* “What?” Calais: “My father is some kind of eldritch creature potentially thousands of years old.” Neve: “I think I see what’s happening.” Calais: “I once spoke to Andraste herself in a dream.” Neve: “Ohh, this one is hard! I don’t know. The second one is true for sure. The first one could very well be true… but the third one happened to me as well. Hmm..I’m going to go with the first one isn’t true.” Calais: “Is that your final answer?” Neve: “Well that doesn’t bode well. Is the first one true?!” Calais: “Yes it is. Her name is Nana.” Neve: “And the dream of Andraste?” Calais: “It wasn’t a dream. I accidentally took some of Myrna’s special incense and burned a little too much of it. It was.. enlightening.” Neve: “Damn, got me on a technicality!”

Neve: “So what did Andraste say to you? When you burned Myrna’s incense?” Calais: *laughing* “It wasn’t anything interesting, I assure you.” Neve: “Well, I asked, didn’t I?” Calais: “You did. Very well, if you must know, she told me about the dangers of not washing behind your ears before she morphed into a giant mushroom.” Neve: *Snort* “Did she really?” Calais: “She made a very pretty mushroom.” Calais: “I killed a man in cold blood.” Neve: “Confessing your crimes in front of a detective?” Calais: “I grew up lonely and ostracized because I’m weird and don’t fit.” Neve: “Cal..” Calais: “I don’t hate myself for the simple fact I can’t keep up.” Neve: “Let’s not do this.” Calais: “Depression’s one hell of a thing.” Neve: “Now that one I know is true.”

Calais: “Did you eat my chocolate raisins?” Neve: “Oh, those were yours? Sorry.” Calais: “It’s alright. I took some of your anise flavoured treats instead.” Neve: “I thought some were missing. I guess we’re even then.” Calais: “I also took some fish for my rats.” Neve: “Well I knew about that one from the smell.” Calais: *chuckle* “Can’t keep anything hidden from our detective it seems.”

#dragon age #datv #rook companion banter #dragon age the veilguard #veilguard

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luv444saturn · 3 days ago

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 pt.2

(Continuation, link to my masterlist for other chapters!)

TW - Blood, brief mention of infection, guns.

Authors Note - part two, I feel like I'm having way too much fun writing this, thank you so much for reading :3

That single word, more importantly the characteristics of the voice that said it, had chills running down your spine. “You don't listen well, do you?” Again, that awful voice sounded from behind you. Despite how badly you wanted to tremble or turn around or plan your defense, you made sure you didn't take your eyes off of the scope. “Eyes over here.” Now that voice, you had never been so relieved to hear Spencer speak. His voice was sharp, pointedly spoken at the man.

There was another thing about him. While you claimed you hated him, loathed his intelligence and his ego, you could never say you didn't need him. In one way or another. You needed him to prove you wrong, knock you down a peg. You needed someone to challenge your intellect. You needed someone to funnel your annoyance onto. That someone just happened to do the same things to you in return. It was mutualism at its finest, the symbiotic relationship sometimes devolved into parasitism if you allowed it.

But right now you needed him so you knew you weren't alone.

You heard another gun cock, the sound filling you with a sense of dread. “Reid,” his name was almost strained, almost dying on your lips, “don't do anything stupid.”

The minuscule shift in your tone, the only sign of vulnerability that showed through your cracking exterior. That calmness you had carefully constructed that he so desperately yearned to have. He hadn't mastered that mask yet. That was enough of a change to have him glance in your direction. Soon enough, the words 'don't do anything stupid,’ rang in his ears like a hymn.

He did something stupid.

That glance, that single second that he wasted had wavered his focus just enough to provide this mystery man with a slim opening. An opening that was wide enough for him to take advantage of.

A pained sound, akin to a hiss, escaped Spencer's lips. Soon that idiotic move that he had pulled seconds before, you repeated. A glance. A single glance back to the agent who was clutching his hand with a strained expression, staring at the source of the gruff voice from a moment ago. “He's got my gun.” Spencer said, letting out a huff. It took everything he had to focus on anything but the pain in his hand, where blood soaked onto his skin, dripping through his fingers and down onto the ground below his feet.

You went for the walkie-talkie at your hip, but as expected, the man—safe to consider another unsub—had other plans. “We can't have that,” he clicked his tongue, “hand it over.” He approached with Spencer's gun aimed at you, kicking away your rifle so you had no chance of turning the tables. He was leaving you destitute, stranded in a dangerous position with no hope of clawing yourself out of it.

You watched him crush the walkie-talkie under heavy, paint stained boots. Spencer watched life practically drain from your eyes, the hope you had dissolving instantaneously.

Spencer had always paid the most attention to people's eyes. Unconsciously taking in every detail, knowing precisely what emotion they captured. Because nobody, despite how mastered they were in the art of putting up facades, could hide their feelings through their eyes. Lips and faces remain still, unmoving, but everything they wish to show was perfectly displayed through eyes. He had come to know yours quite well, and this moment was no exception.

The man pulled out his phone. Unlike the mistake both of you had made, his grip wouldn't falter on the gun, and his eyes wouldn't stray from his targets.

You took a single step towards Spencer, staring down at his hand that was still actively bleeding, trembling. He looked pitiful, like one of those puppies in those commercials that always made you tear up, and it took everything in you not to speak. You didn't have any words that were bubbling up in your throat, nothing, utterly silent. Wordlessly, you took his hand, observing the wound. A knife? That would explain how the man had taken his gun, and the hiss of pain it elicited from Spencer's lips.

Your fingers made quick work of his tie, feeling his eyes on you, you could practically hear the satirical, witty retort he wanted to say. One that would undoubtedly make you roll your eyes. But both of you had an understanding that this wasn't the time. It wasn't the time to make light of a situation, to distract yourselves from what was happening. His tie acted as enough of a bandage to stop the bleeding for now.

“Improper bandages can make wounds gangrene, even though it is important in the healing process to allow airflow, proper compression and coverage is crucial to avoid infection and tissue death—” Spencer began, silencing himself when he knew that he would only worsen your emotional state.

“Keep going.” Was all you said, voice hoarse and dejected.

Nobody had ever said that to him before.

Let alone you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #mgg #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader

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thevampclaudia · 3 days ago

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I’m Piano, and You’re Forte

Lestat de Lioncourt x Louis de Pointe du Lac

Summary:

"Always hungry for the possibility of praise, Lestat was quick to do as he was told; he shimmied out of his clothes clumsily, so desperate to be a good boy that he nearly tripped over his own feet. He cursed under his breath, looking up at Louis through his lashes, silently hoping he hadn’t noticed – or if he did, that he at least found it irresistibly adorable enough to bend him over and fuck him right through that grand piano. Was that really too much to ask? When he saw the look of total disinterest on his lover’s face, he suddenly feared that it might be."

Louis has had enough of Lestat's bratting, and decides to take matters into his own hands...while Lestat plays the piano for him.

Word count: 3,980

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ only, explicit sex, inappropriate use of a grand piano, rough sex, teasing, biting, blood drinking, verbal degradation, choking, degradation kink, bottom!Lestat, top!Louis, praise kink, blood, anal sex

a/n: this was SO much fun to write aside from having to come up with all the onomatopoeia for a piano?! who would've thought THAT would be the most stressful part of this! anyway i hope you enjoyed this filth, thank you sosososo much to the wonderful freaks in the discord server (TIA THIS IS FOR YOU!!!) who inspired this idea and helped me bring it to life <3 (read on Ao3 here)

The evening air was thick with unspoken tension, as the sound of a grand piano rang out through the lavish sitting room of 1132 Rue Royale. Lestat de Lioncourt’s slender fingers danced across the keys with practiced grace. The silvery moonlight streamed through the grand windows, illuminating his golden hair with an otherworldly glow. His face was an expression of serene concentration, as if the world outside did not exist. The notes of the song — something new he had been working on, for an upcoming performance — swirled wildly around him, weaving a spell that was as intoxicating as it was unnerving.

His companion, Louis, stood silently in the shadow of the open doorway, watching him closely. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t intended to intrude, but as always, Lestat’s presence was irresistibly magnetic. Louis stood frozen, trapped between the urge to leave his lover to practice his music in peace, and the inescapable pull that had always drawn him closer. His undead heart thundered in his chest as he observed the blonde, the look on his face a mix of curiosity and aching lust.

Lestat’s back was to him, but Louis knew he was aware of his presence. Lestat always knew when he was being watched; he could always feel the heat of Louis’ gaze lingering on his skin. The thought sent a flicker of annoyance through Louis’ mind, but it was quickly overshadowed by a deeper, more primal need.

The music faltered for a brief moment, Lestat’s fingers pausing on the keys before he turned his head slightly, catching the sight of Louis in the corner of his eye. His lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Do you enjoy my music, Louis?” Lestat’s voice was low and teasing, laced with that ever-present edge of arrogance. “Or is there something else that holds your attention?”

Louis stepped into the room fully, standing behind Lestat. He said nothing, only meeting the other vampire’s gaze with quiet intensity. His mind was racing, and his body ached with treacherous need. He closed the distance between them, placing each of his broad hands firmly on the blonde’s shoulders. A smirk spread across his lips as Lestat sighed softly, almost imperceptibly – leaning into Louis’ deliberate touch, whether he meant to or not.

“Your music is... beautiful,” Louis whispered, rubbing his shoulders. His words of praise felt almost hollow in comparison to the maddening longing that brewed inside him. “But you know that's not why I'm here.”

Lestat turned fully to face him now, his fingers still on the piano keys, but he looked up and locked his eyes on Louis’, dark and predatory. Hungry.

“You never can resist,” Lestat murmured, his voice a silken threat – dangerous, but inviting all the same. “You never can stay away from me for long.” Louis swallowed hard, trying to quell the surge of desire that always rose in his chest at his lover’s words and touch. This game of dominance and submission was a familiar dance to the two vampires, a never-ending power struggle that raged on and on through the centuries.

“Come to me, Louis. Let me see how far you'll go this time.” Louis could feel the heat of Lestat’s body, drawing him irresistibly closer, pulling him into his endless, dangerous web of temptation. He didn’t resist; he never could.

Without another word, Louis placed his hands on Lestat’s chest, feeling the coolness of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. He pushed him back gently against the piano, his fingers tracing the sharp curve of Lestat’s jaw before moving to grip his chin possessively, searching for a reaction – anything to crack his carefully maintained, haughty facade. Lestat’s smile deepened, and with one swift motion, he gripped the other vampire’s wrist, yanking him closer – his lips crashing hungrily, desperately onto Louis’ with an intensity that stole the breath from his lungs.

The kiss was fiery, urgent, and full of the aching need that had been gnawing at the both of them for far too long. Louis’ body responded almost immediately, a heat rising within that clashed with the cool, calculated nature of his lover before him. His hands roamed fervently over every inch of Lestat’s body – exploring, demanding, eager to claim what was rightfully his. His fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt, tearing it open, exposing the beautiful pale skin beneath.

Louis’ lips followed close behind, trailing down Lestat’s throat; kissing, biting, and marking him with an animalistic desire. But Lestat was no passive participant. With a low growl, he spun them both around, pushing Louis back against the piano. The wooden surface groaned under the sudden weight, the keys beneath them vibrating with each movement. Louis’ chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his fangs extending instinctively as Lestat leaned in closer.

The older vampire’s lips grazed a scorching path along the nape of Louis’ neck, teasing him mercilessly with his mouth and tongue, and reveling in the way he squirmed. “You’re mine, Louis,” Lestat murmured against his skin, his voice a wicked promise, laced with possessive fervor as his fangs protruded further, sharply brushing against the delicate skin of his lover’s exposed throat. “And I’ll remind you of it again and again…as many times as it takes.” Louis shuddered at the words, his hands tangling in Lestat’s soft blonde locks, pulling him even closer.

The sharp, enticing sting of those familiar fangs at his neck sent a jolt of both fear and delight through him. He tipped his head back, baring more of his throat, surrendering himself to the inevitability of what was to come. Lestat’s teeth sank into Louis’ neck, piercing his skin with a deliberate slowness that made Louis gasp and cling to him even tighter, sharp nails digging into the other vampire’s narrow waist. The sensation was electric—a dizzying mix of pain and pleasure that stole away any hope of coherent thought. Louis tightened his grip on Lestat’s waist, and without warning, he pinned his maker beneath him against the grand piano. Lestat’s back hit the keys with a resounding crash, a horrible, discordant noise ringing through the room. Louis’ lips sought out the curve of Lestat’s throat, now, his fangs brushing against the sensitive skin there before he bit down with bruising force. He drank deeply, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he did.

The taste of Lestat’s blood was intoxicating — a heady elixir he had missed more than he was willing to admit. Lestat whined, clawing at his companion’s shirt, trying to tear it off him in a desperate frenzy. But then, to Lestat’s horror, Louis pushed his hands away, shaking his head. “Louis,” Lestat pleaded, fervently pressing their bodies together. His long, pale fingers weaved through Louis’ curls, gripping his hair firmly with a little tug. The faint sounds of pleasure Louis made as he lapped at the fresh blood weeping from the wound in Lestat’s neck made something feral spark within him.

“Please, mon cher. I need you,” Lestat whimpered softly, punctuating his request with a tender caress of the other vampire’s hair. Their lips met again, mouths crashing together in a fevered, bruising kiss, the taste of each other’s blood mingling on their tongues. Each movement was part of a meticulously choreographed dance, a heated struggle of passion and possessiveness. The piano creaked again in protest beneath them, the room filled with the sounds of their grappling desire.

“I need you,” Lestat repeated, his voice hoarse with the weight of his longing. Louis studied his face, the way he looked up at him so eagerly, his pale blue eyes swimming with unbridled, desperate want. Slick blood — and now drool — still coated his lips and chin, making him look positively feral. Louis let out an amused chuckle, his eyes traveling slowly over every inch of the blonde’s figure, taking his sweet time. He stepped back, clucking his tongue in mocking disapproval at the soft mewl that left Lestat’s lips.

“Strip. All the way.” He commanded, observing him with an unreadable expression. Lestat looked absolutely bewildered by this request, but Louis did not appear to be interested in repeating himself. He felt his pale cheeks flush, hot with embarrassment at his own arousal. If reverent obedience is what his Saint Louis truly wanted, then he was more than happy to play the part of the adulatory acolyte.

Always hungry for the possibility of praise, Lestat was quick to do as he was told; he shimmied out of his clothes clumsily, so desperate to be a good boy that he nearly tripped over his own feet. He cursed under his breath, looking up at Louis through his lashes, silently hoping he hadn’t noticed – or if he did, that he at least found it irresistibly adorable enough to bend him over and fuck him right through that grand piano. Was that really too much to ask? When he saw the look of total disinterest on his lover’s face, he suddenly feared that it might be.

Louis’ apathetic expression drove him wild; Lestat knew in an instant that he needed to please him – needed to be worthy of his attention, any scrap of acknowledgment he was willing to offer. It was maddening how badly Lestat craved him, but even more maddening was the fact that Louis knew. He was painfully aware of the pitiful state the blonde was in, and was cruelly determined to exploit it at any opportunity. And Lestat loved him for it.

The younger vampire crossed his arms over his chest, drinking in the sight of Lestat’s naked form in front of him. Instinctively, he licked his lips, letting the heat of his gaze trail down his bare torso, lingering on his groin. Lestat’s face flushed a deeper shade of crimson, the deliberate vulgarity of the way his companion stared at him making his swollen cock twitch. Louis’ grinned smugly as he noticed the way the tip glistened, already dripping with precum and Lestat hadn’t even been properly touched yet. Poor thing.

“Sit.” Louis ordered, and Lestat was already scrambling to obey, sitting down on the cold, hard piano bench. “Aren’t you going to-” he began, but Louis was quick to interrupt, laughing coldly at the urgency in his voice.

“No, I think I’ll keep my clothes on for this. But it’s sweet of you to ask.”

Lestat was glad he was already sitting down, because those words alone were enough to make him collapse into a puddle of aching, throbbing need. He shot Louis an awestruck glance, struggling and failing to come up with some clever retort. For a rare moment, the Brat Prince himself was rendered completely speechless. Louis picked up the sheet music from where it lay on the music rack of the piano, flipping it back to the very first page. The other vampire held his breath, watching closely, anxiously anticipating his next move.

“Start again, from the top,” Louis instructed, the sternness in his voice making Lestat’s cock jump. He squirmed on the piano bench, his trembling hands resting nervously above the ivory keys. “Y-you want me…to play for you?” He asked, his voice soft, sweet with devout admiration, “Like this?” Lestat swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to Louis again for a fraction of a second before snapping back to the keys. “I—of course I can,” he said, though the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his nerves.

Louis hummed in disapproval. “You’re already faltering, and I’ve barely even started.” Lestat struck a wrong note, and the discordant sound seemed to echo louder than it should have. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, determined to regain his composure. But Louis was relentless. He leaned in further, his lips brushing the shell of Lestat’s ear. “What if I did this?” he whispered, grabbing a fistful of his golden curls, pulling his head to the side to give himself better access to the crook of Lestat’s neck. Louis inhaled his scent deeply, moaning raggedly into the nape of his lover’s neck. His hands trailed over the other vampire’s bare chest, enveloping him from behind.

Lestat’s playing wavered for a moment as he practically melted into his lover’s welcome touch. And then, Louis stopped. “Louis,” Lestat said, his voice low and pleading. His hands stilled on the keys briefly, and he turned toward Louis, his pale eyes flickering with both exasperation and unmistakable hunger. “Yes?” Louis replied innocently. All Lestat could do was shake his head in disbelief. Any semblance of self control he had left was now entirely gone, replaced with something much more dire. He craved this degradation – worse than that, he was afraid he needed it. The only reply he could finally muster was a whimper. He straightened his posture, repositioning his shaky fingers on the keys, resuming his performance.

“Good boy,” Louis breathed, and it was all Lestat could do not to cum right then, breathless and greedy. He wanted to fall apart under those strong hands, to let himself be fucked, used, and discarded. He wanted to do anything, be anything Louis told him to, if it meant he got to hear those 2 simple, perfect words again…even just once.

Lestat did his best to keep playing, but the harder he tried to maintain his focus on the music, the more Louis was determined to mercilessly fuck with him. “Again, from the beginning,” Louis barked, circling behind him, his footsteps slow and almost threatening. Lestat took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering closed. He exhaled with a low hum, steadying his hands, starting the song over from the first measure.

Louis was unnervingly quiet behind him as he played, and it only worsened his nerves. He did as he was told, starting again - fumbling over the keys in his growing frustration.

“You know, you’re usually better at this,” the younger vampire chided, his tone low and derisive. Lestat sighed, determined to stay focused on the music. “What’s the matter, Lestat? Are you really this easily distracted?” Louis stood just behind him now, looming there, one hand snaking down to caress his pale cheek in a deceptively affectionate gesture. Lestat chased this touch, nuzzling into his palm, until Louis moved his hand down further, to grip his beloved’s throat.

Lestat gasped, throwing his head back, his fingers slipping off the keys; another dissonant plunk ringing through the room. Louis laughed in response, “Oh, you poor thing, look at you,” he taunted, dragging his thumb across Lestat’s lower lip, gripping his chin firmly and tilting his head to face him. “So pathetic. Reduced to a whimpering, stupid mess, and I haven’t even touched your cock yet. What am I going to do with you?” He clucked his tongue, before drawing his hand back to give the other vampire a sharp, stinging slap across his face, leaving a ruddy mark blooming across his pale cheek in its wake. He yelped at the impact, his eyes welling with red tears, lip quivering as he looked up at Louis, absolutely smitten.

Louis shot back a look of withering disappointment, and Lestat had to choke back the urge to imrpovise a whole original sonata declaring his undying love for him right then and there. He really did feel pathetic. But the urge to be claimed, owned, and disciplined was all too intoxicating, and he had no reason to fight it anymore. He yearned to be a good boy for Louis, and he would do anything for that fleeting approval.

“This is your last try, pretty boy. Make it good.” Lestat nodded with deference, assuming the position yet again. He flexed his fingers over the piano keys before he started to play, slower this time, more cautiously. He glanced at Louis, who just looked bored, which only encouraged him further. Surely he could do this, he thought – after all, he’d been playing the piano since he was a mortal child – but his companion was a distraction he was wholly unprepared for. He kept playing, so far so good, thinking maybe Louis had finally run out of tricks.

Oh, how painfully wrong Lestat was.

Without any warning, Louis moved to stand beside him. Slowly, he unzipped his trousers, pulling out his hard, thick member – mere inches from Lestat’s face. Lestat let out another petulant whimper, trying with all his might to keep his attention fixed on the music he was playing. Meanwhile, his companion let out a deep, low groan, stroking his cock slowly as he watched his lover struggle. “Keep going,” he grunted, ignoring the breathless whines of protest coming from the blonde.

Lestat scoffed, tossing his hair as he played, doing anything and everything in his power to maintain just an ounce of control so he could get through this song once and for all. It was useless. Louis gasped his name, of course he did, Lestat thought to himself, he knew exactly what he was doing. But the worst part of all is that it still worked.

Lestat turned his head to see the spectacle, abandoning any remaining hope of being able to make it through his song. At this point, he didn’t care if he did. He needed Louis right this second – the tension was too much to bear, and his leaking cock throbbed, desperate for any acknowledgement at all. Cruel as ever, Louis refused to give it to him.

“Stand up, and bend over the piano. Now.”

The blonde vampire gulped, immediately following directions - the one thing he seemed to remember how to do at the moment, and even that felt like a miracle. He felt exposed, completely vulnerable to whatever Louis wished to do with him. The feeling was intoxicating, and the threat of what came next sent a sick thrill through him. He bent over, presenting himself readily. “Such a perfect little whore,” Louis mused, and Lestat had to brace himself, gripping the edge of the piano for support so he didn’t keel over right where he stood. “So needy…tell me how bad you want it, virtuoso. Beg me to fuck you right here on top of your instrument.”

Lestat’s back arched as he let out another faint, strangled whine. “Please, mon cher,” he begged, his voice breaking as he cried, “please fuck me. I need you inside me so badly it hurts.” Louis merely laughed in reply, grabbing his lover’s throat again, more aggressively this time – choking him slightly. Lestat didn’t struggle at all, content to let the other vampire manhandle him. “Not convincing enough,” Louis practically spat back at him, tightening the grip on his neck incrementally, “Beg. But make it believable this time.”

“Louis,” he pleaded, his voice strained as he struggled to get the words out, “Please, please, please. I need you,” he gasped, “I’ll be a good boy, I promise. Just fuck me, please. I need you to use me up.” He was disgusted with himself. He loved it.

“You talk too fucking much,” Louis protested, tired of waiting. He grabbed a fistful of Lestat’s golden curls, bending him over further, shoving his drooling, blood-stained face down onto the piano keys with another CLANG. Lestat groaned breathlessly through panting lips, watching hungrily as Louis bit down on his own fingertip, drawing blood. “Open.” Louis commanded, not waiting for a response as he shoved two curled fingers into Lestat’s waiting mouth, deep enough to make him gag. “Suck.”

Of course Lestat did as he was told. He moaned greedily, swirling his tongue around his lover’s fingers, tasting the sweet red nectar that filled his mouth. He sucked hungrily from the source, lapping at Louis’ digits, slurping and whining as more pink-tinged drool spilled from his lips to coat the ivory keys. He felt absolutely pathetic, reduced to a crying, trembling, writhing mess; behind him, Louis positioned his hips at his entrance, absentmindedly rutting against him.

Lestat arched his back, craving, no, needing more —but any plea he could muster was silenced by his companion’s fingers. Louis finally pulled them out with a vulgar, wet pop, and the room was filled with the sweet, pitiful sounds of his maker’s frenzied pleas. “Fuck me, Louis,” he groaned hoarsely, too far gone with need to beg anymore. The other vampire used the pinkish spit that still soaked his fingers to slick his cock, pumping himself steadily, his swollen tip already pressing at Lestat’s hot, needy opening.

He slipped one finger inside, then two, working his companion open, readying him for the brutal fucking he was about to receive. Lestat clenched on his fingers, begging him for more, and Louis curled and flexed his digits deeper until he pressed against his most sensitive inner space, that sweet little bundle of nerves that made Lestat quiver and shake. He cried out when the other vampire removed his fingers, but his keening was quickly replaced with blissed-out groans as Louis gripped his hips with bruising force and finally thrust his cock into the blonde’s tight, wet hole.

Lestat gasped as Louis yanked at his hair, shoving his face back down onto the piano keys. He held him in place like this as he fucked him, keeping a firm grip on his golden hair, driving his cock in and out as Lestat sighed helplessly, unable to string together a coherent thought. Louis preferred him like this. His face slapped against the keys in a discordant CLANG with each thrust, only adding to the humiliation of the whole affair.

Lestat felt his back arch off the piano as he was stretched deliciously to his limit, taking each thrust of his companion’s cock with a satisfied purr. “You like that, don’t you?” Louis snarled as he quickened his pace, “Bent over your fancy fuckin’ grand piano, writhing and panting for me like a bitch in heat…” Another low, wanton moan left Lestat’s drool-slicked lips at this, and Louis gasped, fingernails digging into the other vampire’s pale hips as he plowed into him mercilessly, not letting up for a moment.

“I asked you a question,” Louis huffed, and Lestat threw back his head – all he could manage was one long, loud “Fuuuuuuuck.”

His companion just laughed. “Figures,” Louis quipped, “You’re all talk out there, but we both know how needy you are for me. Look at you, so fucking achingly horny you can’t even answer a simple question. You can’t think about anything else, can you? The only thing in that simple, pretty little head of yours is how fucking good my cock feels inside you, using you up.” Lestat nodded, his lids fluttering shut as his eyes rolled back.

“Try again, but use your words this time.”

“Yes–” Lestat finally managed to stutter out, “yesyesyesyesIneedyousofuckingbadpleasedon’tstopIneeditIneedit I NEED IT-” his answer came out in one continuous string of breathless cries that was almost intelligible. By some miracle, this seemed to win his Saint Louis over.

“Good boy,” he murmured in approval, and Lestat’s whole body quivered. Fuck, it was glorious. It was all he ever wanted to hear. He knew he would be chasing this high from now on – and he wanted to be angry about it, but oh God, did it feel incredible. He was a good boy. Louis’ good boy.

Louis could barely hold back at this reaction. After a few more pumps of his throbbing shaft into Lestat’s ass, he finally climaxed with a gravelly moan. His hips twitched as he filled his lover with every drop of his hot seed, panting as he felt him trembling beneath him.

They were both utterly spent, but Lestat turned to look at him with a gleam in his eye. “I was good,” Lestat breathed in disbelief, “I was a good boy…So I get to come too, now, right?”

Louis laughed, kissing him sweetly, tasting the blood that remained on his lips. He just shook his head.

“Oh, you’re so cute, Lestat.”

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #fanfic #my fic #loustat #lestat de lioncourt #lestat #amc iwtv #lestat x louis #iwtv 2022 #louis de pointe du lac #fanfiction #smut #vampires #writing

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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Oh no! Migraine's suck. I get them all the damn time, too 🙄 Hopefully, the migraine's better now ❤️‍🩹 (and this chapter didn't make it worse lol)

Literally me reading your comments on this part 😂 You were so spot on with most of them!!! Sherlock Holmes is getting some competition lol

And yeah, Diane's really playing a sick game here and tormenting Beau to no end 😖 But I had a fun time creating her character, though. I watch way too many crime shows and really wanted that "big bad." Definitely no redemption arc for Diane, though 😅

Good ol' Poppernak. He's a loyal one!

He surely is. Such a sweetheart 🥰 There was not enough Popcorn in this story 😭 (or Donno lmao)

Thank goodness for Beau and his random facts, and that she remembered it!!

I loved weaving that in as one of Beau's rambling trivia facts lol I thought that said so much about their relationship too!

Ah, she took a screwdriver… that gives me a little more hope (probably misguided, lol) when Turner appeared in front of her in the woods.

I honestly loved writing that tense push-and-pull between her and Turner. But I'm glad she won in the end and used that screwdriver wisely 😅

Is that because he thinks they're not going to find her in time or because he's beginning to realise that he is going to lose her to Beau after all.

The latter. That whole conversation with Beau made him realize she's not only happy with him, but he can also give her everything she wants 🤍

I really enjoyed that scene in the car between Beau and Randy. Felt like an honest conversation between them where they both learned a few truths about each other's relationships with her.

Yes 💯 Really felt like they needed to have a conversation about it, although I knew getting them fully back to best friends would've been a bit of reach, so I left it rather open-ended on that part. And Beau certainly knows he has to sacrifice his friendship with Randy for the reader. But even if she still chooses no one, I don't think they could've ever fully gone back to being buddies 😅

I have to say I was surprised to hear what had happened between her and Randy.

Yep, kept that a secret till the end on purpose 😉 It was supposed to show that some things always look perfect from the outside looking in. Beau kind of idolized their relationship and marriage and thought they were "the perfect couple." That revelation definitely gave him some perspective on his own relationship with her

I have so many questions. How did she do that???? She's locked up, isn't she? Did Diane have this all planned and set a timer to send the link? Did Hal set it up before he stumbled out in front of them? Or is something else going on?!

In my head it was an automated email that was sent when the bunker door closed 😂🤷‍♀️

But otherwise, no more surprises (kinda 😅)

Thank you so much for that wonderful reblog, hun!!! 😍🤍🤍🤍

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain – JANUARY 10

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

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