#✧ *.・゚☽ moonlight
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CONTENTS. rural japan! au. forbidden love. rayne is a powerful mountain god, and reader is a surviving warrior of a war. this is a super short series of romance && angst. inspired by chase atlantic's moonlight and the korean drama, tale of the nine tailed.
NOTES. happy ( early ) valentine's! this series is written for all the rayne girlies. dedicated + written for @anqelically && @kyoghurts !! this is valentines gift from me to you, angel & kenji my luvlies.
TAGLIST. @kyoghurts @anqelically @caelivir @bbladie @ansbobcar @rjasmin2021 @lunareclipses-moments
一 the aftermath of the great war.
二 blades that cannot cut through.
三 running in the moonlight.
四 dancing in the open waves.
五 a forgotten warrior that lives.
© SENEON¦MOONLIGHT 2024. do not alter or repost.
#❨ MOONLIGHT ❩ ݁ ˖ ˚ ☽#★ ❨ sen ❩ ֢֢֢ ˚#⋆ ❨ writing ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟#rayne ames#rayne x reader#mashle#mashle x reader#mashle: magic and muscles#mashle rayne#mashle imagines#rayne x y/n#rayne x you#mashle fluff#rayne ames x reader
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Ship bias
Send ‘Ship Bias’ and I will share who I have a bias for for my muse!
GajMi , the monsters.
These two developed a vast relationship once Gajeel was accepted into the guild. Mirajane showed him kindness and respect. He is protective of her but at first had no idea why he was so protective over her. Years of the two of them often having dinner or cooking for each other, something did bloom. Gajeel understood that Mirajane saw herself as a monster, one who didn't deserve love. The two of them showed each other affection in private due to not being too sure of their own feelings. Calling each other my sweet dragon and moonlight have really made this for me. Gajeel knows Mirajane can handle herself and allows her to do so if it means letting her grow. This ship has been in development for a few years lol.
#٠☽ out of character ❛ grim ❜#٠☽ inquires reviewed ❛ ask answered ❜#٠☽ fangs and moonlight kisses ❛ kurogane redfox ❜
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pink full moon tonight. 🌕💕
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for funsies<3
Are you Lilith's type?
"I do appreciate a man who is enthusiastic about his ▓▓▓▓▓eating. ♪"
#(( OF COURSE HE'D BE INTO DANCING NAKED BENEATH THE MOONLIGHT. OF COURSE. 👏 ))#blitzs#☾ ⛧ ☽ in character.#☾ ⛧ ☽ asks.
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Girl Is A Gun - Halsey // This Is What You Came For - Rihanna feat. Calvin Harris // Smile - Maisie Peters // God Is A Woman - Ariana Grande // The Archer - Taylor Swift // Power (Remember Who You Are) - DJ Snake feat SPINALL, Summer Walker & Äyanna // Queen of Kings - Alessandra // Have You Got It In You? - Imogen Heap // Running With The Wolves - AURORA // Immortals - Fall Out Boy
[ youtube ]
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give me threads with starflight being three moon blessed
#☽ | 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 | ooc.#wishlist.#it just being a happy accident#where just enough moonlight came through the skylight to turn starflight’s egg silver#or it happened when morrowseer was delivering the egg on the brightest night
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❝B A B E, there's something tragic about you something so M A G I C about you; don't you agree?❞
Alnirafenen Lavellan & Sylva de Riva (@xthestormcrow) Inquisitor & Rook
Inquisitor Alnirafenen Lavellan looks at Sylva de Riva and sees herself many years ago. She feels for the young woman; thrust into a world she was not yet prepared for. They are the same person in different fonts. She wonders, do the people who knew her during the inquisition see that in Rook too?
#☾⋆❝like a bird on the wire❞ ➵ edits;; alnirafenen⋆☽#☾⋆❝her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you❞ ➵ face;; alnirafenen⋆☽#☾⋆❝if thine is the glory then mine must be the shame❞ ➵ veilguard verse⋆☽#☾⋆sylva de riva⋆☽
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https://audiomack.com/Hudson-lm/song/moonlight-official
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Mating Season
[NSFW | 18+]
Characters: m!werewolf x f!reader
Content: hunting, primal behavior, predator/prey, sex, p in v, knotting, claiming bite, possessiveness, mild dubcon
#13 Mating/Hunting Season from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list
⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆
It’s werewolf mating season in your village and it’s a full moon which means it’s time for the hunt.
It’s almost midnight and all the eligible women have been gathered in the town square to prepare for the event. You stand amongst the group, everyone dressed in thin gowns and barefooted. A cool breeze causes you to shiver or maybe it’s just the anticipation of the activities to come.
The soft murmurs of the crowd are punctuated by howls in the distance. The werewolves are prowling through the darkness, eagerly awaiting their prey. Under the bright moonlight, the women around you glance at each other with mixtures of nervousness and excitement.
When the first midnight bell rings out over the square, everyone jumps, and the crowd surges forward. At first it’s a tangled mess of jostling limbs as everyone heads for the gates at the town’s entrance. But once you’re all through, the mass of bodies disperse in different directions and you take off sprinting into the darkness.
You’re racing through the trees, leaping over logs and boulders as you try to ignore the pain in your feet and the sharp scrapes and nicks from nearby branches. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your breaths are coming heavy. Over the roar in your ears, you hear the snarls and howls of the werewolves stalking their prey, mixed with the shrieks and moans of those already caught.
Your legs are beginning to ache as you zig zag in no particular direction. So you slow down, wondering if you’ve gone too far. But then you hear a twig snap in the trees behind you. Your heart lurches into overdrive and you sprint forward again.
Moving as fast as you can, you recall the only instructions you were given. “Run.”
Your predator is close on your heels, his paws thudding softly on the ground as he nimbly trails you through the forest. Just as you turn to look over your shoulder, you catch sight of a giant, black werewolf leaping out from between the trees.
When he collides with your body, you let out a soft “Oof,” and you both go tumbling to the ground. He deftly rolls you so that he takes the brunt of the fall and when you come to a stop, he’s hovering over you, pinning your body to the cold hard ground.
Although his form is mostly humanoid, he’s covered from head to toe in thick, dark fur. His head is also the shape of a wolf’s and he has a long tail that swishes behind him. His massive claw-tipped hands are buried into the dirt on either side of your head and his heavy breaths wash across your skin.
Baring his teeth in your face, he starts to rock his hips against your naked pussy and you gasp. When he shifts his weight so his cock is dragging against your clit, you let out a soft moan and he snarls at the sound.
Faster than you can track, he swipes his claws at your gown, shredding the material and leaving faint red scratches where his nails nicked you. He stares down at you for a moment, his pupils dilating as he watches your exposed skin pebble in the cold air.
He bends his head to lick at your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples, causing your back to arch off the ground. Then he lowers himself down so his hot body is draped over yours. Before you can appreciate the warmth, he shifts his hips so that the tip of his cock is nudging at your already slick entrance and you groan in anticipation.
Opening your legs wider in invitation, you grip his fur and tug. With a growl, he sheaths himself fully inside you until his hips are flush with your thighs. You cry out at the sudden fullness and he pauses to let you adjust. When your body begins to relax, he pulls out and then thrusts back in. He does it again and again until he’s setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into the dirt.
You quickly become lost in the exquisite sensations as your back scrapes against the rock-strewn ground while his massive cock stretches and fills you to the brim. He’s snarling and wild-eyed above you as he ruts into you in a wild frenzy, unable to control himself at the feel of your hot cunt squeezing him so tightly.
When your orgasm climbs higher and higher, almost at its peak, his movements become jerky as he meets you at the top. Right before you tip over the edge, you feel his massive knot pushing against your entrance, trying to stretch your pussy impossibly wide.
Before you can protest, he lowers his mouth to your shoulder and growls one guttural word against your skin.
“Mine.”
And then his teeth are sinking into your flesh in a vicious claiming bite at the same time his knot pushes past your tight walls and you scream.
You’re launched into another stratosphere as your eyes roll back in your head and your entire body seizes up. Hot cum spurts inside you, filling you up endlessly until it starts to seep out around his knot and drip down your thighs. His hips are still jerking erratically as he rides out his orgasm, dragging your own out with it, until eventually he’s completely spent.
───
You must have passed out at some point because when you awake, he’s carrying you in his arms as he trudges through the forest.
“Where are we going?” You ask groggily.
“To my den,” comes a deep gravelly voice above you. “I’m going to fuck you until my cum is a part of your essence and everyone knows that you belong to me.”
Tip Jar :)
#monster fucker#monster lover#monster smut#terato#monster x human#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#werewolf#these lovely monsters#tlm werewolf#tlm stories#monstertober#monstertober 2024#f!reader#m!monster
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t/umblr forgot my tags for these two so i gotta dump them again i hate it here /j
#☽ [ i’ll lift my face and run towards the sunlight // in character (minato) ]#☽ [ i will face the sun with the pride of the living // musings (minato) ]#☽ [ when the moon reaches for the stars that feeling will last // headcanons (minato) ]#☽ [ you gotta write your own manuals to life // drabbles (minato) ]#☽ [ moonlight melts my ghostly shadow to the lukewarm gloom // aesthetic (minato) ]
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月光 ݁ ˖ MOONLIGHT ── CHAPTER ONE. THE CRUEL AND LONELY AFTERMATH OF A GREAT WAR BETWEEN NATIONS.
CONTENTS. warnings of dead bodies, slight gore (slicing through the skin), suicide of an enemy party. wc of a thousand.
moonlight series masterlist ₊ 𓂃 chapter two
𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, night-time, right after the evening where the golden hour turns into dusk. the sun has set completely, allowing the moon to rise and take up on its duty for the rest of the night. it was only a few hours ago that humanity officially ended a war between nations. chaos ceased right then with only one victor left standing.
Y/N, nobody but a mere girl who was turned and twisted to be in the war not by choice, but by the lack of freewill. nobody but a daughter of a swordsmith. nobody but a daughter of a lady who sells potatoes and sometimes mooncakes during mid-autumn festival by the streets to make a living. you are nobody... but a doll of the battlefield, simply selected by some soldiers to be made into a weapon on the rough battlefield.
woe to you who survived through the hellish nightmare of watching your comrades get their chest pierced by spears. woe to you who survived the cuts all across your limbs by the blades of the other innocent souls, also forced to be on the battlefield. woe to you who was the only living being standing amongst puddles and mountains of corpses. and woe to you, for you had to lay a finger on your last standing enemy who eventually unalived himself for the sake of surrendering.
you still remembered the scene of the man standing in front of you, crying his eyes out and begging you to kill him. as the last person standing, shouldn't there already be some sort of peace? you didn't know why but before you could even say anything but to touch his shoulders, he used his blade and run it across the skin of his throat, allowing the substance you despised so much to swiftly flow out.
now venturing on your own after leaving thousands of corpses behind, you walked and walked and walked through forests, meadows, riverbanks, and eventually your journey halted as you stepped forth into a huge mountain.
you unsheathed your sword, pointing it at the direction where you sensed a presence lurking around. "who are you?!" you exclaimed at the person, a man with half a yellow and black hair. he possessed such blank golden honey eyes, almost as if you could drown in the dew, consumed by the sweetest of emptiness.
something about him doesn't feel right though. he is man, but he feels something more than man. something closer to a divine being that harbours magical abilities. why would a man be in the middle of a huge mountain anyways? why is the man dressed in such fine clothing and is alone in a mountain? is he a nobleman to be clothed such a way? what intrigues you the most is the two line that runs from his eyes down to his cheeks.
the grip on your sword tightens, ready to offense and defense for anything that might happen.
"what may a mighty warrior such as you be doing here?" he finally spoke, furrowing his eyebrows. the man spoke with authority, as if you aren't supposed to even step foot in this mountain. his honey eyes scanned all over your body, taking notes that you obtained cuts, stabs, and hurts all around. "you are injured. physically and mentally. perhaps you seek solace in this mountain. that is why you are here."
this man had read you like a book. the grip on your hilt tightened even more, before it loosens and you drop your arm. your eyes slowly dropping to the ground too. "you're not human. what are you?"
"the god of this mountain. rayne ames. i know the very inner being of any living creature that sets foot in my mountain," the mountain god said as he lifted his hands up and a group of fallen petals arise and danced along the wind. rayne spun his hands in a circular motion, the wind following to dance around you. then, the flowers slowly and beautifully flow down all around you. "everything of this mountain belongs to me."
as he uttered those words, a petal fell right at the palm of your hands. you gently held your hand out. even though it has fallen from its origins, it remains as beautiful and fresh as it first blossomed, unscathed even. the petal then jumped right out of your palm and flew away along the wind.
"if everything in this mountain belongs to you, may i... stay here and be one of yours..?"
rayne ames' eyes widened just in the slightest way, before it shuts, locking away the sweet honey dew. "i refuse. descend the mountain and return to your people."
"but i have no people!" you shouted. "i thought you knew that, stupid god..." that came out as a whisper, merely decipherable to one.
as much as rayne feels so much sympathy for the hurt, he cannot allow a human to live in the mountains with him. it is simply impossible. but your words strike him in a way that he couldn't quite understand. the words ‘i have no people’ reminded him so much of himself. just like how he is a mountain god and always alone.
"what is your name?" rayne asks, letting out a sigh.
"y/n."
"y/n, you may stay," he turns around and walks away. "but if you spill poison in the soil and roots of this mountain, i will cast you out." relief embraced you as worry left you when his words filled your ears. "you are now mine, y/n."
you are his, rayne ames the god of this mountain. the moment you spoke to him, the moon has already sent the stars to form a fate between the two of you. moonlight belonged to a mountain god who accepted a human girl and a mighty warrior who seek solace in the haven of a divine being.
NOTES. omg what an exciting fic!!! jokes anyways happy valentine's day! this series will be updated every day 🖤
TAGS ݁ ˖ @kyoghurts @anqelically @caelivir @bbladie @ansbobcar @rjasmin2021 @lunareclipses-moments
© SENEON¦MOONLIGHT 2024. do not alter or repost.
#❨ MOONLIGHT ❩ ݁ ˖ ˚ ☽#⋆ ❨ writing ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟#rayne ames#rayne ames x reader#rayne x you#rayne x y/n#rayne x reader#mashle#mashle: magic and muscles#mashle imagines#mashle fluff#mashle angst#mashle x reader#mashle x you
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Smooch.
He was so gentle with her. As if he feared that she would crumble in his arms. Perhaps one day she would if he continued to love and adore her as he had. A smile creeping up on her features as they stood in each others arms. Exchanging kisses and sweet whispers.
A happy giggle escaping her as he swug her over his shoulder and headed back inside of his home. With her hand under her check, propping her up as she let him take her inside. "I have a question, darling. When are you going to ask me to move in? We are getting married soon, you and I did not wait for marriage." she teased before being placed on the counter top.
" I just want to be where you are.. I can give my place to Elfman and he can enjoy the peacefulness of the guild not knowing where he lives. And if he wants some privacy with his loved one or if he has. He hasn't told me if he's seeing anyone. "
@kurogane-redfox / continued
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Sketching a never-ending dream…
… For once, it's a happy one - one of a world without conflict. One in which she gets to stay with Garrod, Jamil and the Freeden crew. In which there's no pain, no need for them to steal and kill their kin.
Charcoal that stains pale hands, a canvas slowly filled up with dreams. With hopes. Aspirations.
"I wonder… if my daydreams will become a reality."
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𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐎'𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮
Paring: Detective O’Connor (hallucinating Agatha) x Reader
Summary: When your mother gets out of town, you grudgingly accept to take care of the town’s lunatic.
A/N: So this is dedicated to this anon, it’s VERY different from what I have written for Agatha so far, but I hope you like anyway!
This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my native language, so bear with me.
Warnings: Mental instability, face slapping, bondage, dubious consent, dildo, teasing/edging
Word count: 3k
Date: Nov 25, 2024
Comments are always welcome and if you don’t wish to be identified, my ask is open!
Masterlist
Tag list: @yourbasicqueerie @harknessshi @hannah-0730 @diorrxckstar @lady-darkswan3 @neverfindmegone @imorynn @its-chickenwing-450 @seaoflittlefires @anyasivy
─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────
Wanda’s spell had changed Westview.
Aside from the obvious altered psychological state of the citizens, the town's sense of community had blossomed and the shared trauma had brought them together. The witch's magic had left a lasting scar and people were empathetic for anyone affected by it.
Agnes O’Connor, or whatever her name was.
She’s been a good neighbor for the past three years, slightly nosy, but clearly under some sort of mental control. Lately, though, she’s been acting differently. Your mother is one of the people who’s been lending a helping hand. Buying her groceries, visiting to make sure she is eating and bathing, and despite the odd conversation, she has been fine on her own.
Not that your mother would listen. She is invested in being some sort of babysitter and drag you along. You’ve managed to stray from the role, but, when your mother left town for business, you had promised to take care of the town's loony.
The day's warmth gives way to a chilly breeze, the settling sun makes an orange hue in the sky and you try to balance the grocery bag while opening the wood door. Unfortunately for you, the neighborhood has a barter system and today is your family's turn to make sure everything is in order.
Walking in, you take a minute to look around, the place is beautiful and dark, everything matches and you wonder what is Agatha’s doing and what is somebody else’s. You had never stepped foot in the house and it impressed you.
Locking the door behind you and navigating to the kitchen, you set the bag down on the counter and call out.
“Agnes? My mother asked me to bring you some groceries.”
Silence follows your statement.
“Hello?” You say louder.
Fuck. What if she had run away?
Taking a deep breath, you decide to inspect the house before freaking out. Walking back to the entryway, you glance up the stairs and back into the living room. The place appears to be empty and you strain your ears in an attempt to hear any kind of noise. The house seems uninhabited and you conclude that upstairs is the next place to look for her.
“Hello? Anyone home?” You shout uncertainty, taking a step.
Your head is full of worry as you walk up the stairs. You’ve never seen Agnes after her psychotic breakdown, you don’t know what to expect. People from the neighborhood had said she was harmless, but you had no way of knowing. Either way, even if that were the case, it wouldn’t look good for you if you somehow lost her.
The wooden floor creaks beneath your feet and darkness engulfs the hallway. Taking a quick peek at the open doors, you face up the end of the corridor, the place you assume it's the bedroom. Guiding yourself with the moonlight streaming in through the open window, you carefully enter the space. The curtain moves with the wind and you relax a friction, there is clearly no one here.
As scared as you are, you barely have time to process the thought of Agnes' disappearance before feeling an impact against your back. Falling into the bed, you try calming your racing heart and, scared, you quickly turn around to see the back of a figure as it walks and settles into an armchair, turning on the lampshade beside her.
Squinting your eyes against the yellow light that consumes the room, you take her in. Her legs are spread open, she wears a long sleeved shirt with a boner joke saying: “Bohoner family reunion. Pitch a tent.”, black sweatpants finish the look while her hair is pulled down in a ponytail. Her face is stern and she looks like a complete lunatic.
“Sit up.” She commands.
Afraid of an unpredictable reaction, you do as she says.
The cushion feels soft under your thighs as you settle in the mattress. She ranks her eyes over your figure before leaning back, arms crossed over her chest. There’s some kind of hose head in her hip.
“I’m curious. What compelled you to break into the home of a decorated detective?”
“What?” You blurt out immediately.
“I’m not playing games, little girl. You better answer me.”
You fridge under her gaze, trying to understand the mental episode she’s having. Your mother mentioned that Agnes was having some sort of hallucination, but you never guessed this. Does she think she is some kind of cop?
She places her elbows on her knees and leans forward, waiting for your response.
“I- My mother asked me to bring you some groceries.” You explain carefully.
“Don't lie to me.” Narrowing her eyes, she stands up and searches for something in her drawer. “You won’t like the results.”
You glance at the door and prepare to make an escape. Barely having time to place your foot down and run, you feel a hand on your shoulder pushing you down and making you freeze when you sense her breath ghosting against your temples.
“You better not try that. I’m assuming you don’t want to spend the night in the tank.” A glimpse of her hands makes you shake your head, she’s carrying a rope and a silver tape.
“Good.” She stands in front of you and grabs your chin to look up at her. “Now, what were you after?”
You look around for something that might help you in this situation. “I was just bringing you groceries…” You whisper.
“Don’t play dumb.” Her hands squeeze your cheeks harshly.
God, this is the craziest talk you’ve ever had.
“Look Agnes, you might be a little confused. How about I put you to bed and let you get some sleep?” You grab her wrist, trying to loosen her grip.
She slaps you across the face, hard enough to leave a sting behind.
She leans in close and says. “Do you think you have the right to touch me?”
The hit leaves you angry enough to turn and shout. “YOU ARE NOT A DETECTIVE.”
Maybe it’s time to put her in a mental institution.
She scoffs and grabs the rope at her side. “Do you know what we used to do to mouthy things like you back at the academy?”
Your eyes widen and you stay rooted in place, running crosses your mind once again, but you push it aside, it would be worse if she tackled you to the ground. They do say crazy people have more strength than usual.
She stretches the cord out in front of you and smirks, seizing your arms and tying them in front of you. Maybe it would be better if you played into her fantasy.
“I’m sorry, Detective O’Conner.” Your entire demeanor changes and you beg. “Please, it was just a prank, my friends put me to it.”
She has a side smile and doesn't look into your face, completely focused on her task.
“Oh, now you are being cooperative. Scared?”
Indeed, you are.
She crouches and levels her eyes with yours, searching your face for something that she doesn’t seem to find.
“I don’t believe you and I’m not letting you go until I’ve got a satisfying answer.”
She harshly pulls the knot in your wrists and looks pleased when it doesn’t come loose. Pacing around the room and looking at your bound form, you see the engines turning in her head as you feel trapped in a lion’s cage.
Suddenly, she grabs you by the shoulder and pushes you backwards. You crash into the mattress and panic, you definitely shouldn’t have played into her delusion, the thoughts of escaping brushes your mind and you curse yourself for not doing it sooner.
She takes hold of your binded arms and places them over your head as she climbs on top of you. Her knee is placed between your legs and you put your heels on the edge of the bed, pushing yourself up in a vain attempt to avoid the pressure.
“This is what happens when you poke the bear, little girl.” She breathes in your face.
“Agnes, look-”
“IT’S DETECTIVE O’CONNOR TO YOU.” You wince at her scream.
“Detective O’connor…” You try out and continue when she doesn’t react. “There’s no need for violence, we are both adults, I’m sure we can settle this.” You attempt to reason with her.
She laughs at your statement, one of her hands grabs your neck and lightly squeezes.
“I won’t accept any form of disrespect. You’ll be an example for your friends.”
Yeah, okay. Maybe that was a bad excuse.
Her eyes focus on something behind you and she reaches for it. You completely freeze when the corner of your eye catches the sight of a purple dildo held by her. Something inside you stirs.
“You better lick it up, little girl. This is going inside you.”
“WHA-” Your scream is cut off when she shoves the hard object down your throat.
The stiffness settles uncomfortably on your windpipe, making you gag and cough against it, only stopping when she takes pity on you and draws it out of your mouth.
“Do you want me to shove it in right now?” She’s a jerk and lets out a smug grin when you shake your head.
“No, no, no!” You say hastily. “I can do it.”
Seeing your willingness, she places the sex toy against your lips, letting you set the pace for yourself. You take a tentative lick and she raises an eyebrow at you.
This whole situation makes you dizzy. Agnes’s weight is on top of you and you slowly engulf the dildo, licking and coaxing in your saliva. She looks deep into your eyes and holds your tied hands firmly, pushing your propped heels with her feet and making you moan around the object when her thigh presses harder against your core.
Your body is reacting in the opposite direction, the panic settled into a trembelling flutter in your abdomen, the idea of being fucked by her seems more appelling as the time goes by and you wonder how much you really need to lube the dildo with your arousal pooling in your undearwear.
“Yes, that’s it.” She says encouragingly.
She sets a rhythm, leisurely pulling in and out as her lips form a sadistic smile, seemingly taking joy in your predicament as you slowly relax into the mattress, accepting your fate. Her blown pupils draw a groan out of your mouth and you feel drool dripping down your chin.
She leans down and nuzzles your neck, before popping the dildo out of your mouth and eyeing it.
“Good girl.” She praises and you grind against her thigh.
Smiling, she takes away your only form of relief, straddling your waist and placing the purple object sideways in her mouth. The image distracts you enough and gives her time ,with her newly free hands, to grab the remains of the rope and tie your bound hands against the headboard.
She eyes your pitiful position and lets out a breathy laugh, before grabbing your shirt and ripping it in half. Your eyes widen at the action and you suddenly remember that despite the pleasure running through you, you’re still very much in danger.
Ranking her eyes down your figure, she slides the wet dildo down your collarbones and over your covered breast, before reaching your navel. You look up at her with a pleading face, you could no longer tell if it was whether for her to continue or let you go.
“Ag-Detective, please.” You beg and the nickname brings a smirk to her face.
Thrusting your hips up, you try in a vague attempt to smooth your aching core, she grabs your waist and presses her body weight harder against you. Getting close to your face, she ‘tsks’.
“Nah, nah. This is supposed to be a lesson.” Her hand moves up and painfully gropes your breast, pinching your nipple and making you let out a groan.
She rolls off of you and for a second, you think she’s going to leave you there, bound and unsatisfied, completely lost in the situation. That is, until you feel her harshly pull your pants out, along with your panties, humming as she looks down at your barely covered self.
Spreading your legs, she settles between them and grabs the back of your things, pushing them up until your knees meet your front. Your open position gives her access to your core and she looks at it, grinning and running her finger through your wetness.
“It appears someone has a cop kink.” Even in your condition, you have to hold in your laugh.
She’s still talking nonsense.
The discarded dildo appears in her hand once more and you bite your bottom lip in anticipation, she looks into your eyes as she slowly drags it between your folds and circles your clit, teasing you. Torture seems to be part of her enjoyment, you trash and buck into her hand, but the only thing she does is grip your hips to prevent your movement.
She runs the object down your thigh and you feel how wet it is, mixing with the previous stickiness in there and driving you mad as it gets further away from your entrance. Stopping your needy motions, you let out a whine from the provocation before suddenly throwing your head back as she slams into you.
It stretches you and she doesn’t give you time to process the intrusions before she starts to move. She pounds hard, seemingly trying to draw out your pleasure as fast as she can and by the amount of arousal you feel bubbling under your skin, she’s succeeding.
You moan loudly, your shoulders ache from the uncomfortable position and your wrist burns from the material of the rope. Your body shakes with the force of her thrusting and your breasts bounce inside your bra.
“Ag- Please… I can’t.” Meaningless words spill out of your mouth.
She laughs and places one of your legs on her shoulder, going deeper and hitting a spot that makes your vision go white.
“Tell me what you were looking for.” Her face closes off and somehow she becomes more aggressive with her movement.
“Wha-” There isn’t a single thought crossing your mind.
“Why did you come into my house? Tell me right now or I’ll stop.”
“NO.” You shout and throw your head back at the frustration. “I already told you.”
“I don’t want to hear any bullshit excuse.” Her movement slows down and you circle your legs around her to prevent her detachment.
“I don’t know what you want me to say!” You tell her, your mind is muffled with arousal and you feel your climax getting away from you.
“‘Tell me the truth.” She almost screams and stops completely.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, unfulfilled .
Your thoughts can barely connect, your head is spinning and you try to find a justification that will satisfy her enough.
“I WANTED YOU.” You shout out. “I wanted to get your attention.”
You finally settle into an excuse and it seems to please her when she gives you a shit-eating grin, thrusting back into you.
The fading orgasm returns with vengeance, your back arches away from the bed and your entire body tenses up. The purple object pounds harder and harder into you, hitting the right spot every time and making you sob. Your legs tighten around her and your heel digs into her back. The headboard hits the wall and you faintly hear the sound as your mind is overrun with pleasure.
“Detective- I need…” You blur out, the statement being cut off by a groan.
“I know what you need, baby.” Her voice is hoarse, you open your eyes to look down and are greeted by ragged breathing, hair out of place and an open mouth as she takes in your pleasure.
Her free hand comes up to circle your outer lips and you groan, frustrated by the endless teasing. Her finger meets your clit and her other hand adjusts the dildo to keep up the pace with the new attachment.
You close your hands around the rope holding them, throwing your head back as your body meets her thrusts and you grind up against her finger, searching for the edge. All the breath in your body rushes out at once when you reach it, stiffening and trembling against her body. Your hard nipples brush against the material of your bra and your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You go completely rigid and mute before slumping down onto the bed.
Your fingers teak at the aftershocks, you feel Agatha slipping the dildo out of you and her face enters your blurred vision.
“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks seriously, her face closed off again.
You nod vigorously, still bound and helpless, you couldn’t tell what she would do next.
“Good.” She says and reaches up, untying the thick rope from your wrists and adding. “Stay where you are, I’m going to get a wipe.”
Puzzlement fills your mind and you rub your red skin, maybe this would be the perfect time to run, even with your shirt torn and naked half self, but you doubted your jelly legs would take you far. Besides, her mood had changed, she seemed softer and you weren't sure if the change of temperament was her mental health acting up or if she was calmer because of your early answer.
There’s not a lot of time to think when you hear her coming back from the bathroom, towel in hand. Your breath is caught in your throat and you watch her every move, paralyzed. She settles herself on the bed, in front of you, before looking into your eyes and asking.
“May I?”
You open yourself for her once more, she’s already fucked you stupid, there’s no need to be ashamed.
Her knuckles run up your calf and stop in your knee, her other hand placing the white wet material against your thigh and wiping the stickiness in it. You shudder when she brushes your core and wonder if you are catching her insanity by thinking of doing this again.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to use my gun on you.” She lets out a relieved laugh and points with her head at the nightstand behind you.
You turn around and are greeted by a hose head.
#the amount of times I had to stop *wink wink* while writing this one is criminal#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#smut#fanfic#detective agatha harkness#not really#agatha harkness smut#kathryn hahn#kathryn hahn x reader#fanfiction
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tag dump;
#visage ☽➷ (for the girls with messy hair and thirsty hearts.)#study ☽➷ (a little bit of heaven with a wild side.)#words ☽➷ (when all is said and done you’ll believe god is a woman.)#aesthetics ☽➷ (a tornado of roses from divine.)#relationships ☽➷ (i've been the archer; i've been the prey.)#music ☽➷ (dancing barefoot in the moonlight.)#answer ☽➷ (legends are told; some turn to dust or to gold.)#interaction ☽➷ (it's my town and my crown and my hitlist.)
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Beneath the Moonlight - Remus Lupin
₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊
Summary: In the days leading up to a full moon, Remus Lupin receives an anonymous gift basket filled with potions, chocolates, and a carefully-brewed Wolfsbane Potion.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Y/N considered herself a rather observant student, especially when it came to the Marauders. It was hard not to notice them, really. They were practically a four-person parade through the halls of Hogwarts—pranks, laughter, and charm trailing behind them like a comet's tail. James Potter with his messy hair and endless attempts to impress Lily Evans, Sirius Black with his dazzling grin and effortless cool, Peter Pettigrew following close, always eager to please. But one Marauder stood out to her more than the rest. Remus Lupin.
There was something about him that had Y/N hooked from the beginning. Perhaps it was his quiet brilliance or the way he seemed to carry a world of mysteries in those warm, honey-colored eyes. Or maybe, it was the way new scars seemed to appear on his face and hands every so often, faint but unmistakable. They fascinated her, those scars, and as her gaze lingered on him in class or at meals, she found herself trying to figure him out.
And, admittedly, somewhere along the way, Y/N developed a bit of a crush on him. But who wouldn’t? He was brilliant, always top of the class without trying too hard, and—and yes, he was gorgeous. Handsome in that annoyingly effortless way. Soft, tousled hair that practically begged to be touched, sharp cheekbones, and—Merlin, those knit jumpers that always made him look so adorable. How was that fair? It was like he’d been sculpted by some benevolent god of tall, bookish, sweater-loving dream boys.
But Y/N’s interest in him was more than just attraction. There was something… otherworldly about him. She’d started to notice patterns—how he would seem worn and pale every few weeks, how he would disappear entirely from school grounds for a day or two, only to return looking exhausted and, if possible, even more scarred than before.
A month ago, after endless speculation and careful observation, Y/N had arrived at a conclusion: Remus Lupin was probably a werewolf. She wasn’t completely certain; it was more of an educated guess. But what could she do with this theory? It wasn’t like she could walk up to him and blurt out, “Hey, Remus! You don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you for months, and I just wanted to ask, are you, by any chance, a werewolf?”
The thought alone made her cringe. Y/N sighed, tapping her quill against her parchment. Remus Lupin might be full of mysteries and maybe—just maybe—she’d get the courage to actually talk to him someday.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The full moon was only a few days away, and Y/N could already see the toll it was taking on Remus. He was limping slightly, a stiffness in his stride that made her heart ache, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping in days, and though she knew he had his friends—the Marauders, always fiercely loyal—she couldn’t help but feel he needed more comfort than they could provide. She wanted to do something for him, something small but meaningful.
The idea hit her while she was rummaging through her bag in the library: an anonymous get-well-soon basket. She could leave it outside his dorm, a collection of little comforts to ease the days leading up to his transformation. She’d make sure it was subtle, not too personal, just enough to lift his spirits without drawing attention.
Excitement and nerves mixed in her stomach as she mentally listed what she’d need. A couple potions to help with sleep, pain, and anxiety, some of Honeydukes' finest chocolate, a soft blanket to keep him warm, and a few baked goods from the kitchen elves. She might even add a small note with a simple message—“Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.”
Over the next couple of days, Y/N carefully gathered everything. She bought him a midnight-blue wool blanket that felt like a hug in fabric form and a variety of different chocolates. She used her advanced potion skills to make Murtlap Essence, a Calming Draught, and a Healing Potion.
But the most important addition was a small bottle of Wolfsbane Potion. She’d somehow managed to get her hands on the recipe, even though it wasn’t officially taught at Hogwarts—and she’d acquired a secret stash of the rare ingredients needed to brew it, though she'd never admit where from. It had taken several nights of brewing in the abandoned classroom she’d found, but she’d done it.
The full moon was only two days away when she finished assembling the basket, carefully placing the note on top before leaving it right outside the boys' dormitory. With a final glance over her handiwork, she quickly walked back to her dorm, satisfied with her work.
As she returned to her room, a little thrill of satisfaction bubbled within her. Maybe, just maybe, her small gesture would help Remus feel a little less alone, a little less burdened by the full moon’s approach. And that thought alone was enough to fill her with quiet joy.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Just a few floors below, the Marauders were still lounging in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across chairs and couches as the fire crackled low. They’d spent hours discussing pranks, arguing about the latest Quidditch match, and bickering about everything from Potions homework to the best way to dodge Filch. When the last embers started to die, they finally decided it was time to call it a night.
As they made their way up the stairs, it was James who first spotted the basket. He froze mid-step, eyebrows raised as he pointed it out. "Er, lads... anyone know what this is?"
The other boys crowded around, peering down at the unexpected sight.
“No clue,” Peter murmured, squinting at the note resting on top.
Sirius, with his usual curiosity, leaned down and plucked up the note, inspecting it with a grin before his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ooooooh, Remus, it’s for you!” he cooed, reading the note aloud for the group: ‘Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.’
The boys’ faces all fell at once. Whoever had left this knew. Someone had figured it out. Their carefully crafted excuses, the timing of their sneaking around, all the little tricks they’d come up with—they thought it was foolproof. But apparently, someone had been watching more closely than they’d realized.
Without another word, they grabbed the basket, exchanging uneasy glances as they rushed into the dormitory, shutting the door firmly behind them. They gathered around Remus’s bed, where James set the basket down, and just stared at it.
“Well? Open it already!” James urged, his voice a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a tinge of concern.
Remus took a steadying breath. His friends were watching him closely as he slowly lifted the wrapping, half-expecting some kind of prank to burst out at him. But instead, he found an assortment of thoughtful items neatly arranged within the basket. A stack of Honeydukes chocolates, carefully tied together with string. A blanket, dark blue and soft, lay folded at the side. Several small bottles—potions, each labeled with precision, sat in the center, cushioned by tissue paper.
They all scanned the contents in awe and curiosity, but Sirius was the first to notice something unusual. He gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to one particular bottle.
“Holy shit, is that—”
“Wolfsbane,” Remus finished quietly, staring at the vial with a mixture of shock and disbelief.
They all fell silent, taking in the implications of that single bottle. Wolfsbane Potion was incredibly complex, nearly impossible for a student to brew, and yet here it was—crafted, sealed, and ready for him. Someone had not only figured out his secret but had gone to lengths far beyond casual concern. The potion’s presence in the basket hinted at more than just kindness; it was a deeply personal gesture, an unspoken understanding that spoke volumes.
Remus swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the cool glass of the bottle. "Did the card say who it was from?" he asked, looking over at Sirius, who shrugged and handed him the note again.
Remus read the short message over and over, searching for any hidden clues, some hint that might give away the sender. But the note was short, simple, and entirely anonymous. He turned it over, checked for invisible ink, even held it up to the light, but there was nothing.
“Not a single hint?” James murmured, peering over his shoulder, a frown deepening across his face. “Nothing?”
The group exchanged baffled glances. They examined the basket once more, handling each item carefully to make sure nothing seemed dangerous. The potions were labeled clearly and accurately, the chocolate smelled rich and sweet, and the blanket was incredibly soft—perfect for a night when he’d be feeling cold and drained. Every item seemed genuine, carefully chosen, with not a hint of a prank or hex.
As they finished examining the basket, they slowly started getting ready for bed. Remus sat quietly on his bed, his mind racing as he took in the kindness of it all. He tucked the potions into his bedside drawer, hiding the chocolate where he knew Sirius wouldn’t be able to steal it, and spread the blanket over his bed. It was soft, warmer than his own, and the weight of it settled over him like a quiet comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.
Sliding under the blanket, Remus felt a warmth blooming in his chest. Someone out there knew his secret, but instead of using it against him, they’d tried to make things a little easier. And he knew, without question, that he had to figure out who it was.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The full moon had passed in a calm that Remus had never experienced before. He woke that morning still feeling sore, but the aches were manageable. Normally, the transformations left him scarred and hollow, as if all the energy and warmth had been drained from him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. But this time, thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion and the potions from the basket, he felt… human. Less broken.
After seeing the other Marauders off to class, Remus leaned back into his bed, feeling the softness of the new blanket wrap around him like a gentle hug. He’d spent the morning drinking one of the calming potions, using the healing salve for his aches, and nibbling on a bit of chocolate to ease his nerves. And though he was grateful, he couldn’t shake the strange blend of curiosity and unease that swirled in his mind. Who knew? Who cared this much? The secrecy felt like a burden, yet he couldn’t help but feel a small glow of warmth every time he glanced at the basket.
Meanwhile, James, Sirius, and Peter were trying to answer that very question in their own way. During Potions, they’d had an idea. Whoever had brewed Wolfsbane Potion had to be incredibly skilled, so finding out who had the best marks in Potions could narrow things down. The second Slughorn dismissed them, they pounced.
Sirius leaned casually on Slughorn’s desk, grinning with exaggerated innocence. “Professor,” he began, “say I wanted to improve my Potions skills. Just hypothetically.”
Slughorn’s eyebrows lifted, clearly intrigued by Sirius’s unusual interest. “Oh? Well, it’s about time, Mr. Black. I’d say your marks could certainly use a bit of boosting.”
“Oh, I know, I know!” Sirius waved his hands, laughing a bit. “That’s exactly why I was thinking maybe a bit of tutoring could help. So… who would you say is the top student in your class?”
James sidled up next to him, nodding earnestly. “Yeah, Professor. Who’s the best at brewing?”
Slughorn looked delighted, his chest puffing with pride at the idea of his Gryffindor students taking a sudden interest in his class. He lowered his voice as though he were sharing a prized secret. “Ah, if you’re looking for someone with real talent, you’d want to speak with Y/N Y/L/N. A truly gifted student! Absolutely meticulous with her brewing, and a Gryffindor as well! You boys ought to know her.”
Sirius and James exchanged baffled glances. “Y/N Y/L/N?” James muttered, frowning in thought.
Peter piped up, looking a little surprised. “Oh, I remember her. We did a project together in second year. She’s very sweet. I suppose she’s easy to miss, always keeping to herself.”
“Right…” Sirius trailed off, scratching his chin. “Doesn’t sound like the type to be sneaking around in the dead of night to drop off mysterious gift baskets, does she?”
“People can surprise you,” Peter shrugged. “I bet she’s got her reasons.”
After classes were over, the three Marauders nearly sprinted back to the dormitory. They’d waited all day to tell Remus their findings, and as soon as they saw him, they launched right into it.
“So,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically onto Remus’s bed, “we might know who left the basket.”
Remus looked up, eyebrows raised, though he tried to appear casual. “Really?”
James nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. “Y/N Y/L/N. Slughorn says she’s his top student in Potions. And she’s a Gryffindor, so she’d know where to find us.”
The name caught Remus off guard. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He knew exactly who she was—quiet, always hanging at the edges of things, never drawing attention to herself. He remembered her from their earlier years, especially a few years back when she and Peter had done that project together. She’d been kind and incredibly smart, but she always seemed to fade into the background.
Sirius shot him a curious look. “Wait—do you actually know her?”
Remus hesitated, carefully picking his words. “I mean… I remember her. We’ve been in classes together since first year.”
But what he didn’t say was that he’d once felt drawn to her quiet kindness. She wasn’t like other students; there was a thoughtfulness to her, a gentle intelligence that had always intrigued him. He remembered her now, the shy girl who had somehow made him feel seen, and the idea that she might have left the basket stirred something inside him—a mix of hope and nerves.
Sirius smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “Oh, you remember her, do you?”
Remus rolled his eyes, trying to hide his blush. “Look, it’s probably not her. There’s no way she’d still remember… I mean, we barely ever talked.”
James raised his eyebrows. “Barely ever talked? That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t care. Besides,” he added with a grin, “you clearly want it to be her.”
Remus glanced away, not trusting himself to deny it. Because if it really was Y/N… she’d have gone to extraordinary lengths just to help him. It would mean she knew his secret and, rather than fearing him, had quietly found a way to ease his burden. And perhaps the most surprising part? He found himself hoping it was her.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright. I’ll talk to her. See if there’s anything to this theory of yours.”
The next morning, with a hint of apprehension and excitement, Remus set out to find her. He decided to look in the library first, where he thought she might be studying between classes. But as he crossed the common room, he spotted her in the far corner, curled up in a chair with a thick book on her lap.
He took a steadying breath and made his way over to her. She looked up, clearly surprised to see him, her eyes widening as he gave a small, nervous smile.
“Hi, Y/N,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you mind if I join you?”
She blinked, a little flustered, but nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Um, of course, Remus.”
They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, and Remus could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her attention on him.
“So… I, uh, wanted to thank you,” he started, not sure how to bring it up. “For… everything.”
She stiffened slightly, her cheeks flushing, but kept her gaze steady. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied quietly.
He watched her, seeing the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips, and knew then, without a doubt, that she was the one. “The gift basket. The potions. The blanket.” He lowered his voice. “The Wolfsbane. It helped me… more than I can say.”
Her face softened, and she nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I’m… really glad to hear that. I just wanted you to have what you needed. It’s not easy going through all that on your own.”
Remus felt his heart swell. Here she was, fully aware of the truth and yet sitting here, calm and kind, accepting him exactly as he was.
He met her gaze, feeling a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in ages. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I did to deserve that kind of kindness from you, but… it means a lot.”
They sat there in a comfortable silence, the unspoken words passing between them, understanding filling the space. He knew he’d found a friend in her—someone who saw through the mask he wore and had chosen to help, not out of pity, but because she understood what it meant to care quietly, deeply, and without expectation.
And perhaps, he thought with a hint of warmth, this was only the beginning of something much deeper.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
A/N ~ this is kinda rushed sorry, school is killing me :P
#fanfic#fluff#marauders#remus lupin#dead gay wizards from the 70s#marauders era#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#remus#remus x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#secret admirer#the marauders#marauders fic#hp marauders#marauders fandom#romance#werewolf#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#shy!reader#quiet!reader#shy!remus
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