#I can’t wait to take her to the forest

[the-thistle-missile]

15 weeks old today! And got her last round of vaccines!

[traveler-at-heart]

You're ok

Summary: As you recover from a life threatening mission, Natasha struggles to be vulnerable.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Edit: The last part is a scene from The Diplomat's season 2. Highly recommend the show, as it also has our lovely Ali Ahn ( AKA Alice Wu)

Death is part of the job. You had always been prepared for it.

Failure and a slow recovery were things that you were less inclined to accept.

It was hard to deal with the fact you had been ambushed, and almost killed by a bomb in what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Two weeks after being confined to the sterile hospital walls you’re back at the Compound. Bucky offered to help, carrying your things and lending his arm as support.

You certainly didn’t expect the rest of the Avengers on the foyer, excited to greet you.

“Don’t make a fuss” you say, letting them hug you. Wanda rolls her eyes, taking your bag.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive. We’re gonna make a fuss”

“Just for today, let us make a big deal out of this” Steve says.

You had seen all of your teammates when they visited at the hospital, with one notable exception.

Said exception walks through the door, the hint of a smile on her beautiful face as your eyes meet green ones.

“Welcome back” Natasha says, her tone gentle.

“Thank you”

“Romanoff might like you, she almost smiled” Tony says, but you don’t pay him attention.

“That’s just because I thought you weren’t here” Natasha walks past him, squeezing your good arm as a silent goodbye. How you wish you could follow after her, ask why she didn’t even stop by once, but she’s hurrying out the room in record time, as if she can sense your intentions.

Truthfully, you won’t act on them. Natasha doesn’t owe you anything, not even a get well card.

“Let’s get you settled in your new room” Tony becons, and you frown.

“New room? What happened to the old one?”

“This one has some improvements. You’re gonna love it”

It’s evident he still feels guilty over what happened, though it was definitely not his fault that you almost got killed.

The new room has a mini fridge, a giant tv, a king size bed, and a small couch. It also has a huge bathtub, as well as an incredible view of the forest behind the Compound.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… I’m perfectly fine going back to my old room”

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Sam intervenes, looking around the space.

“Come on, you’re gonna be using crutches for a while. You need a bigger space. And entertainment”

“It’s true” Steve says. “Of course we all want to be optimistic but…”

The doctors had said it would take at least six weeks to get you walking without aid. And then, you’d have to train and get back in shape. You are looking at two or three months of recovery.

It’s not that you dislike the bigger space or amenities. It’s the fact that Natasha was closer to you in the other room, and so you’d meet her most mornings as you’d step out to hit the gym or make breakfast.

Now, not only is she emotionally distant, she’s also physically away. And you don’t know which is worse.

“I’ll give it a try” you promise, though you know nothing will be better than your old room.

—

There are unexpected challenges that come with your injuries. Like cooking breakfast. Wanda is more than happy to help most days, but she’s been out for a mission the past week. You could have stuck to cereal, except Steve is always around by the time you wake up, and he insists on making your breakfast.

It’s a nice gesture, though the food is horrible.

You’ve spent the better part of your morning  playing with your eggs, considering eating cereal again, when someone places a cup of coffee and a paper bag next to you.

“I don’t know who told Steve he could cook” Natasha says with a smile.

“He means well” you answer, and wait for her to nod towards the bag to inspect its contents. Grilled cheese and a scone. Your mouth waters at the smell.

“You’re amazing, Natasha, honestly” you say between bites, moaning at the taste. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good. Except Wanda’s food, of course”

“Enjoy” she says, taking away the plate with eggs for you.

You were hoping to have her company while you eat, but maybe that’s too much to hope for.

—

At last, there’s something you can do. While everyone is busy with missions, you focus on reports and intelligence, which is perfect, because all you have to do is sit and read.

There are still deadlines and though no one wants to put pressure on you, you make sure nothing is delayed. As you keep reading in one of the conference rooms, the door is pushed open and you look up, alarmed at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes?” you say, pushing your glasses up, staring at Natasha. She turns around, struggling to speak.

“Y-you should be resting”

“I’m doing Bucky’s reports. You know how he is, he can’t type anything in the computer”

“It’s close to midnight. Have you even had dinner yet? I’m sure he won’t mind if you do them later”

“Nat. It’s fine, honestly” you say, smiling at her awkwardness. “I like to feel useful”

She nods, looking around the room, as if weighting her options. Moving away from the door, she walks and sits next to you, checking out some of the paperwork you’re reviewing

“Someone should have really taught James how to type” she mutters when she gets to the part where Bucky wrote target pulled out a cock instead of Glock.

You snort out a laugh, because it’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world.

“Ten bucks if you leave it like that” she insists and you shake your head.

“I considered it but then Tony wouldn’t know when to stop the teasing”

“Fair” she tilts her head, still smiling at you.

It’s obvious now that Natasha’s staying to make sure you go back to rest soon. So you enjoy the silence that comes with her presence, thinking this might be a step in the right direction.

But then, you stretch your arms above your head, forgetting about the stitches in your side until you feel a pull.

“Fuck” you bend over in pain, and Natasha is by your side in an instant. “It’s ok. I just stretched too hard. Forgot I still have a hole on my side”

Natasha’s hands hold on to the edge of the table, as if she’s struggling between storming out and staying.

“You should get some rest now” she manages to say, eyes not meeting your own.

“I’m fine”

Natasha gets ready to argue, but then reconsiders and just nods.

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight”

The redhead leaves the room in a hurry, and you wonder what could have possibly made her so upset.

For the next few days, you don’t see Natasha at all, and a part of you is certain she’s avoiding you.

As you lay in bed, watching a movie with Wanda, you keep going back to your interaction. Did you say something offensive? Was she simply too repulsed by weakness and didn’t know how to deal with it?

Is she avoiding me? Am I overthinking?

“She is and you are” Wanda says, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“But why… now wait a minute” you click your tongue, looking at your friend.

“I didn’t mean to, your thoughts are so loud. And so are Natasha’s. When you came back she was having a screaming match inside her head”

“What do you mean? What was she thinking?”

“No, that’s where I draw the line. If you want to know, ask her”

“If I ever see her again, sure” you mutter, though you know you lack the confidence to confront Natasha. Even if you had the chance, what’s there to say? "Hey, why are you making sure we only see each other when strictly necessary?"

She doesn’t like you, that’s the only explanation. Natasha is just being polite to keep appearances and the screaming inside her head was probably her thinking how much she wished you were still at the hospital.

Wanda snorts next to you, making you glare.

“Outta my head”

“Hey, I’m trying to watch the movie. You’re the one that needs to keep it quiet up there”

A few days later and you still have no idea how to approach Natasha. Mind you, she’s only been around the kitchen to get coffee once or twice, spending the rest of her time in missions or at the gym across the Compound.

The only time you’re not thinking about her is when the physical pain is distracting you. Like now, while changing your bandages. The doctors told you to get someone to help, but you already get help with food, laundry, even changing your god damn sheets. You’ll be damned if you ask for help with this.

“Fuckfuckfuck” you clearly did something wrong because the dressing is stuck around the edges. You pull again, but the pain is too much, so you plop down in bed. There’s a knock at the door, and you groan, which will hopefully make whoever’s on the other side go away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Natasha says, rushing to your side.

“Can’t change my bandages” you say, not caring if your incompetence upsets her.

“Can I look?”

You nod, sitting up so she can see for herself the mess you’re in. Her hands are surprisingly soft and tender, and you’re almost dozing off while Natasha works silently.

Except when there’s a tug and you jump back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’ll be just one painful pull, ok?” the woman says, one of her hands going to your cheek. Your eyes meet and the way she’s looking at you almost makes the pain go away.

“Ok” you nod. Natasha takes it off in a swift movement, and all you can do is take a sharp breath as your skin stings. “Fuck me” you say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it that much with the state you’re in” she jokes, which makes you smile.

“You know what I mean”

“Just teasing”

“You’re certainly good”

Natasha keeps working in silence, and you worry you may have crossed a line. When she’s done, she picks up the trash and goes to throw it away.

“Ask for help next time”

“I need help for everything. I wanted to at least do something on my own without being a burden”

“You’re not a burden” she says, her back to you as she washes her hands on the sink.

Something comes over you, and when Natasha walks by your side to exit the room, your hand shoots up to hold her wrist.

“Y/N?”

“I… I missed you. I know we’re colleagues and all I do is share whatever meal I’m having, or train with you from time to time. I know I can’t really do any of those things right now. I’m inconsequential, I know, to your life and to whatever you do. But I do miss you, Natasha. And I wish I didn’t care so much”

It feels like her skin is burning under your fingers, so you let go, ashamed at your little outburst. You’re expecting her to leave without another word but instead, she kneels to meet your eyes.

“You’re the opposite of inconsequential. But I don’t know how to care without being vulnerable”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Caring is vulnerability” you say softly. “But it’s also a strenght. It means you’re not alone”

Natasha smiles, a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. She’s about to say something else when FRIDAY calls for her at the conference room.

At this hour, it only means one thing. She stands up, looking apologetic.

“Be careful” is all you can say as she leaves the room.

—

A party is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Not only are you still wearing a cane (an improvement from the crutches) but Natasha has been gone for several days to complete a mission only a handful of people know about.

It makes you anxious, to think she might be in danger, though she is the most capable agent in the entire world.

“So glad you made it” Tony says when you finally show up. It took some convincing on Wanda’s part, but you agreed once you found an outfit that didn’t require you to wear heels.

The Avengers are at their own couch, talking and laughing. Bucky has apointed himself as your personal waiter, bringing snacks and drinks.

“Any word on Nat?” Stark asks, which distracts you from the conversation with Sam.

“Said she was still stuck at the debriefing” Steve shrugs his shoulders. It’s no surprise, if she can avoid these parties, Natasha will.

At least she’s home and safe. That brings you some peace of mind, and you’re able to enjoy the rest of the party.

Tony announces the fireworks are about to start, and you relunctantly stand next to the huge crowd assembled at the front yard of the Compound.

The first burts of color is followed by a couple of cheers.

But it’s different for you.

The booming sound, the lights, it all sets you on edge.

You’ve been around explosions before, and this had never happened. Frozen in place, you try to close your eyes and control your breathing as the noises increase your anxiety.

How you wish you could run back to your room right now, but it’s nearly impossible to walk between everyone.

“It’s ok” a voice says, and there’s the warmth of another body next to yours. “You’re ok”

“Nat” you sigh with relief, closing your eyes. Another firework explodes and you jump.

“Look at me” she says, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing motion. You nod, turning your body so she can wrap both arms around your waist. “Breathe with me”

You follow her lead, in and out, until your heartbeat is steady again.

“You’re ok” she says, this time more of a reminder to herself. “And I’m here”

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, letting her decide if she wants to take that final step. Natasha smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as her lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

“I missed you too” she says when you break apart.

“I’m not going anywhere”

[arahdow]

BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR QUILLS !

Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. fluff, tiny silly argument in shadow’s, cuddling, overall soft stuff.

Word count. 1.6 k

A/N. writing sonic was the hardest thing i’ve ever done aH idk why!! i’ll make sure to write him more often to get used to his personality aH anywaaay, again, not beta read, i’m really sacrificing my sleep hours for this one sjdjs hope y’all like it!!

SONIC

making you run and accidentally crashing with him.

“Come on! You’re being too slow!” Sonic screamed as he kept on running, his feet moving way too fast for her liking. 

Just a few days ago, the blue hedgehog encouraged his partner to go out for a run together, and she knew he was an athletic man, but this? This was torture.

“Sonic… Wait… I can’t” her feet were moving so slow compared to his, especially when she wasn’t used to running this much. 

“One foot in front of the other! Come on!” Sonic said laughing, as he ran backwards, looking at the girl. She huffed with annoyance, the hedgehog still winning even when running like that!

After a while, the blue animal ran faster and almost disappeared from her sight. The girl took a deep breath and started running faster. Somehow, the fear of getting lost in the forest making her move, helping with adrenaline. Suddenly her body was moving faster than before. Way faster! 

Her body, sadly, started to grow tired quickly because of the energy she was using. Her lower limbs suddenly getting wobbly, but somehow kept running. Out of instinct, she thought.

That was until she realized she was about to crash into a stone wall at the end of the road, it was getting dangerously close!

The girl stretched her arms to cushion the blow. A violent ‘Hey!’ was all she could hear as she crashed, not on a stone wall, but rather a soft body. Sonic’s body to be clear.

He used his own body to soften the crash, but something was wrong.

“Ouch! Wha-”

She looked down and saw one of Sonic’s blue quills stuck on her shoulder. “Damn… Ouch.” 

The animal was sprawled upon her, but quickly recovered to take a look at his injured girlfriend. “Oh, I’m sorry darling,” he said with a sheepish smile, helping her stand up, careful not to mess with the quill. “but it’s kinda your fault to run that fast, thought you were about to destroy time and spac- Ouch! Why are you hitting me!” He said with a pained laugh.

“You’re an asshole! Help me get this out!” She complained, annoyed that the man was making fun of her.

“Aw, don’t be all grumpy, I promise not to make you run again.” He said, pushing her slightly to take her to the infirmary. “Hey, maybe next time you can try Shadow’s air shoe-”

“Don’t even finish that thought.”

SHADOW

silly old couple argument

“Move.” The girl didn’t reply, her gaze focused on the tv. “Get up.”

“Git ip.” she mocked.

The black hedgehog grumbled, sitting really close to her, almost on her.

“Hey-”

“This is my side of the couch, you know that.” He said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t like this channel.”

“You don’t like anything, Shadow.” She complained, not giving him the remote.

They’ve been living together for a year, two years being a couple, and they still bickered like an old couple. It became something usual between them, and it got even worse when speaking of the sofa. There was only this purple sofa in the living room, both her and Shadow liked it, but there was just something about the spot on the far left that was perfect. For both of them.

So if they were together in the house, it was usual for them to fight over the sofa spot, like they were doing now.

“I’m feeling hot, you need to get off of me!”

“I’m not on you, you’re the one occupying my place!”

“Shadow!” she pushed the hedgehog with her shoulder, as he pressed even harder on her.

With a huff, she turned and put her hands on him to push him again, when a quill suddenly pinched her hand. 

“Ow!” She exclaimed, looking at the dark quill stuck on her. “You can have your stupid place on the couch!” the girl said as she stuck her tongue and got up to the kitchen, looking for some tweezers to take the quill out.

Not many long after, the man got into the kitchen, following her, taking her arm in his hand. “Hey-”

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking intently at the sensitive red spot on her hand. Pressing his lips, he brought her hand under the faucet to clean the wound. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please forgive me.” 

The girl snorted. “It’s alright though, I was just messing with you, but you were seriously pressed, huh? Pressed enough to hurt me.” She said with a fake tone of hurt on her voice.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna let this down, are you?”

She gasped and whined, putting on a pouty face, “Ow! It hurts! Please! Why are you so mean to me?”

“Alright alright, you can have the couch for today.” He sighed, shaking his head with humor.

The girl smiled, her face expression going back to normal. Turning happily, the girl kissed his cheek before running to the couch. “Love you, Shads!” 

SILVER

cuddling after a long day but uh oh…

After a tiring day outside, he wanted nothing more than to be at home, eat the food his girl made for him and spend time with her. It was a simple plan, and the cherry on top? Cuddling with her on bed, his face pressed on her stomach as she threaded his quills.

It was a usual occurrence, both of them lying down in silence, sometimes him laying on her lap, sometimes her on his, but they spent most of their time cheek to cheek.

“Silver…” She whispered, afraid of disturbing him. But he didn’t reply, instead, a soft snore broke his silence.

The girl giggled a bit as she kept on caressing his face and quills. It was times like this where she found herself falling once again for her hedgehog lover. She was actually reading a book on her other hand, so her attention was mostly directed to it.

Being immersed on the story, she got really focused on the sentences, suddenly drifting off from her task on her other hand. She unconsciously made her limb move in erratic ways, as she tried to keep on doing both things at the same time.

That was until she felt a slight sting on her hand. Jolting, she yelped as she retreated her hand from his body. The movement was so sudden, Silver opened his sleepy eyes, sensing something wrong.

Leaning back enough so he could see his partner in the eye, he found instead a look of slight pain as she held her hand in front of her face, a silverish quill stuck on her palm.

“Oh chaos, dear, your hand!” He expressed, incorporating as he held her hand for a bit. Using his telekinesis, he brought the aid kit to bed. Doing a careful procedure, he took the quill out from her hand, making her hiss at the feeling.

“I’m sorry…” He said.

“Don’t be, it was my fault, I was completely distracted by the story.” She replied, looking at the book beside her.

Silver took a look, as he kept patching her hand. “Hey! That’s the book I recommended the other day!” 

“It is! And it’s so good! I really loved it when the protagonist saved the kids from the falling building.” 

“That was my favorite part too!” He said. Both of them laughed and kept on talking about the book. He was really happy to have her in his life.

KNUCKLES

It’s shedding season! And your roomie-bf is in the house!

Cleaning after an echidna warrior was difficult, especially when he kept bringing his dirty shoes inside her home, her food taken, and her bed occupied. But she honestly loved Knuckles company, so she carried on with it.

It was starting to get a whole lot colder outside, as the temperature began to cool down. It was that time of the year where the island became a little snowglobe, so the echidna spent more time at her partner’s home than anywhere else.

Today she needed to do the laundry, piles of dirty clothes started to form, and even though Knuckles tried to convince her to stop using clothes like him, that still wasn’t on her plans, at least not on a short term.

Sighing, she started to walk towards the laundry room, a pile of white clothes on her arms, making seeing the floor almost impossible. Knuckles was sleeping in her room, so she let him. She’ll make him fold the clothes afterwards either way. Sure, she’d let him crash whenever he needed it, but it came with a price.

Opening the door of the room, the girl stepped inside. But she wasn't ready to feel an electric pain coursing from the bottom of her feet to her core. A scared scream left her throat as the pile of clothes fell from her hands. Tripping, the girl fell on her butt with a thud. Not a second later, the echidna was already punching the laundry’s room door, breaking it. His breathing agitated as he saw his significant other on the floor.

“What happened?” He asked, worried that someone might have come into her home. 

The girl crawled, starting to search in between the clothes as she stumbled upon a red quill. Taking it in between her fingers, she showed it to the animal, furrowed eyebrows on her face.

Knuckles saw the quill with curious eyes. “You stepped on a quill of mine?” 

She threw the quill at him, half annoyed. “Of course I did! Don’t go around shedding your stuff please. Look! Now my foot hurts because of it.” She said as she looked at her now destroyed door. “And that too!” The mammal listened to her words, and before she could complain for anything else, he got closer to take the girl in his arms, an easy task for him, and brought her to the sofa. Laying her down, he put a gloved hand on his own chest.

“I’ll take care of the laundry to compensate for it.” He oathed, the girl surprised for his serious face, snorting in the process.

“That’d be nice.” She said, as she looked at her foot, not swollen or anything. “I could help you though-”

“No, you stay there.” He demanded as he strided to the laundry room.

A moment later, he came back stomping to the living room again. 

“Uhm… How does the machine that washes clothes works?”

[guardianlegends64]

[Closed RP] Alternate Love life in“Man Who Meets a Universal Celestial Fox Goddess”

In the City of Jacksonville and On a late and cooling Night of May There was an Ordinary Man Named Jason “Reaper” Morningstar who was just a Normal and Casual Person who has a Very Normal Job working in the city of Jacksonville a very Mystic City but also very interesting place…

Reaper is almost as tall as a tree with Ocean Blue eyes and has black hair but has a small silver white hair and even has an American Voice and British accent…

Reaper Lives in a Luxurious House with His Father though his House is far from The City of Jacksonville and also is on the other side of the Forest in which Reaper had to take a certain path to get to his house…

“Ah Fock…I wonder if this was the right Path to get back home…”

He Said as he must’ve forgotten to Put a Red Flag on one of the trees to remind him that he’s walking on the right path to get home.. as He Has his Backpack and wears his Own Casual Clothes…

“Shit… My Father is gonna be So damn Furious … it’s already 12:00 am… W-Wait No… Fock…Not Again…”

While he was walking down the path and even now realizes that His Phone had already died because of its Battery was already low… until he then hears a Scream from afar…

“Wait….What The Hell was that..?”

He Said and he went to investigate on the scream and tries to Locate where it came from but the scream sounded like an Animal or a Fox Animal with a female voice and when he investigated where the scream was coming from…

“What the….Fock…?”

He says as he was in shock and surprised and finds where the Mysterious Scream was coming from as he witnesses a “big Fox with Silver white ears and Multiple Fox Tails even has Golden eyes and a Fox like body with Silver Hair” and as he notices that it had an Injured leg from a Bear Trap…

“F-Fock…. What Should I Do…?… I Have to free it and Help it… I Can’t just let it suffer…”

He says Quietly as he walks up to it slowly and as he is afraid and scared on walking up to it as he then makes eye contact with it as he now realizes it was a Female and he then Quietly tries to tell her…

“I-It’s Ok I’m Not Gonna hurt You…“

As he then notices that the fox was in Great pain and was Crying from getting severely Hurt from the Trap as he then gets surprised and shocked that the Giant Many tailed Fox was about to speak and she said…

[werecreature-addicted]

I love the trope of “woman is the village’s sacrifice but the monster ends up fucking her then taking her away as his mate” He’s half mad because his little mate was tied up and left to the mercy of the elements. But he’s also so happy you were “given” to him. He can’t help but have his way with you before he even cuts you loose, but eventually he returns to his senses and carries to his lair where he wraps you in furs and soothes you.

Everyone in town knows it's you. Whatever it is that lurks in the forest wants you. The blood trail starts at the tree line and drags through the center of town. It ends at your doorstep with the dead animal.

No one knows what to make of these gifts. Some people say the monster is trying to scare you off. Others say he wants you well-fed before he eats you. Like the witch in Hansel and Grettle, he's fattening you up for the slaughter.

The townspeople blame this monster on the lack of game in the forest. Which is true enough. Then they start blaming other things on the monster. The crops rot in the ground, and the weather turns cold suddenly, that must be the monster as well. And because the beast is here for you, it must be your fault too.

They gag you so you can't scream. They blindfold you as a mercy so you won't see your death coming. Then you're tied to the trunk of a tree. You don't know how deep in the woods you are or how late at night it is. You know it's cold, you can hear the soft movements of the forest, the noises of night-time animals, and the wind in the trees.

Then, a warm breeze passes over your neck. Only it wasn't a breeze. It was breath. Then there's a tongue on your neck, hot and wet the monster tastes you. You scream, the sound muffled by the gag, and it stops.

"I should kill them for what they did to you, burn the whole town to the ground for scaring my mate," the thing growls. You're surprised. It can speak. There's a ripping sound, and you're no longer bound to the tree trunk. Then he removes the gag and finally the blindfold.

It's dark, and you can't see him clearly, but you can make out his size. His shape. Monster is the right word for him. He lifts you easily over his shoulder and takes you deep in the woods. He stops at a little den. a home. It's surprisingly cozy.

He lets you lay down in a makeshift bed, a pile of furs and soft things. He moves to your side, looming over you, running his hands over your legs, pulling them open.

"My pretty mate... you have no idea how long I've waited to take you, He says, before licking your neck again. This time, you don't scream, you shudder in pleasure. His mouth feels good, and his hands are good too.

Never did you imagine this monster would want you, but here you are, in his bed, kissing his lips, and taking his cock, like a good mate would.

[ponderingmoonlight]

kny men saving you

Pairings: Sanemi x reader; Obanai x reader; Rengoku x reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: near death experiences but your knights in shining armor have your back hehe, pure fluff in every part, there might be some spelling mistakes here and there, my heart is in pieces bc I deleted Rengoku's part and had to re-write it and now it's bad

Sanemi Shinazugawa

The moon hangs low tonight, its pale light pooling in the dark grooves of the forest. You always loved how tender the night looks when the full moon is out, especially during summer. It dapples your path, just barely enough to see the worn trail beneath your feet. Your sandals whisper against the ground as you clutch the heavy clay jar in your arms. It’s not far now - you know the stream is just a little farther ahead. The thought of your mother, feverish and frail in her bed, keeps you going despite the nervous twist in your stomach. You hate walking out here alone. Because even though the night looks peaceful, it certainly isn’t.

Those past nights, a lot of innocent people disappeared during night. The elders talk frequently about creatures called demons who lurk out in the shelter of the dark in order to take lives. Your mother was very clear when telling you more than once that you aren’t allowed to go outside when it’s dark, that you have to stay inside at all cost.

But does that include her being so sick that she’s barely able to move? You can’t just sit there and watch her suffer, right? You can’t just wait for something that might never happen-

A twig snaps in the distance.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. It’s probably nothing - you hope it’s nothing. But the hair on the back of your neck stands on end, and the oppressive weight of the dark seems to grow heavier with each passing minute.

The stream, you remind yourself. Get the water. Get back home.

Then the smell hits you.

It’s foul, coppery and rancid, and so wrong that your guts turn. You stumble, the clay jar nearly slipping from your grip. You freeze. There’s something ahead. No, someone.

But the silhouette isn’t really human. Too tall. Limbs too long. The gleam of sharp teeth is the first thing you make out, the grin stretching across its distorted face.

Your legs refuse to move. The demon lunges.

A demon?

Is this…what your mother always talked about, what everyone at the village warned you about countless times? Demons really do exist, that demon right in front of you is the ultimate prove for that.

You won’t be able to tell anyone the truth, though. Those sharp teeth that draw closer and closer, aiming for your neck. This is how you’ll die. Alone in a forest like so many people before you. Tears start stinging in your eyes, your throat so tight that you can’t catch breath.

Before you can even scream, there’s a flash of silver and a roar that shakes the trees. It takes you a moment to register what’s happening - the demon is on the ground now, twitching and headless. The stench of blood intensifies, and you realize it’s not just the demon’s. Your knees wobble.

And then he’s there.

The man who killed it, a whirlwind of pale scars and wild hair, is in front of you before you can blink. His blade gleams in the moonlight, still dripping. His eyes, sharp and livid, pin you in place.

“What the hell are you doing out here?!”

The force of his voice slams into you like a physical blow. You flinch, the jar slipping from your arms and shattering against the ground.

“I-I was just-” you stammer, words tumbling over each other, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Do you have a death wish?” he snaps, taking a step closer.

“Are you stupid or just suicidal? Do you know how many of those things are out here? You’re lucky that was only one!”

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You can’t even bring yourself to speak now, your throat tightening with every harsh word he throws at you.

Are you…crying? Sanemi’s eyes narrow, mouth opening to yell again, but something shifts in his expression when he sees the tears spill down your cheeks. Fuck, how is he supposed to scream when you’re looking at him like that?

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, looking away like he’s trying to calm himself.

“Shit. Stop crying.”

You hiccup, trying to stifle the sobs that threaten to bubble up. To his own surprise, he kneels down, so suddenly and close that it startles you. His hands hover awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do with them. His voice, though still gruff, softens ever so slightly.

“Hey. I’m not gonna hurt you, alright? Just…stop crying already.”

You nod weakly, wiping at your face with trembling hands. He sighs again, this time more resigned.

“Look,” he grumbles, reaching out hesitantly,

“I didn’t mean to scare you. But you shouldn’t be out here. Not alone.”

His hand, rough and warm, settles lightly on your shoulder. It’s surprisingly steadying, even a little bit soft. You nod again, this time more firmly.

“I…I was getting water. For my mother. She’s sick.”

He frowns at that, eyes flicking to the broken jar on the ground. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure you out. You were out there to get some water for your mother. How absolutely fucking stupid. But on the other side…he can’t help but admire your courage the slightest bit. Given your pretty weak frame and haunted eyes, you aren’t really experienced when it comes to combat. It’s obvious that you’re nothing but an ordinary villager, a girl who just tried to save her mother without having a single clue about the shit that awaits her.

Enough of that sentimental bullshit. If he looks at you one more second…

With a rough huff, he stands and turns his back to you.

“C’mon.”

You blink, trying to understand the meaning behind his rough words.

“W-What?”

“I’m taking you back. You’re gonna get yourself killed if I leave you out here.”

Before you can protest, he crouches slightly.

“Get on.”

“Wh-What?” you stammer again, heat flooding your cheeks.

No, you can’t do this. Not when he’s a stranger, not when he already saved you. He glares over his shoulder.

“Do I have to spell it out? You’re too slow, and I’m not dragging you the whole way. Now get on before I change my mind.”

Swallowing your nerves, you shuffle closer, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders. He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he hooks his arms under your knees and lifts you like it’s nothing. You’re startled by the steadiness of his grip, the surprising warmth of him despite the chill of the night. This is…the first time a boy ever touched you like this.

The walk back is quiet save for the crunch of his boots against the forest floor. You cling to his haori, your earlier fear slowly ebbing away. His presence, though sharp-edged and intense, is strangely comforting now.

When you finally see the soft glow of your village lights through the trees, relief washes over you. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the edge of your house, where he kneels to let you down.

“You’re lucky I came along,” he mutters, his voice still rough but quieter now.

“Next time, think before you do something stupid.”

You nod meekly.

“Thank you.”

He grunts, straightening.

“Get inside. And stay there.”

But before he turns to leave, he hesitates. His hand lingers for a moment, brushing against your shoulder again, almost absentmindedly. Then he steps back, his expression unreadable under the moonlight.

“Take care of your mom,” he says gruffly, before disappearing into the night.

Your heart feels a little fuller, even as your legs wobble carrying you inside.

Iguro Obanai

The wind howls against your ears as you step cautiously closer to the cliff’s edge, the jagged rocks below barely visible through the mist. It’s a beautiful view - almost ethereal. You should stop here, you know you should, but something about the sheer drop pulls you in. Just a few more steps, you think. A little closer and you’ll be able to see that gorgeous field of tulips your friends told you about.

The world seems quieter here, the rush of blood in your ears louder than the rustling trees behind you. You feel weightless, suspended between the earth and the empty sky. It’s thrilling, in a way. Comforting in depressing times like these.

You don’t notice the loose gravel underfoot until it shifts.

Your breath catches as your sandal slips, toes curling desperately to hold onto anything solid. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, there’s nothing but air beneath you, and you’re falling straight towards the tulips, straight towards certain death-

Until a strong hand clamps onto your wrist and yanks you back.

The force sends you sprawling onto solid ground, your heart hammering in your chest. You barely have time to register what happened before a familiar voice cuts through the panic, sharp and laced with fury.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You look up to find Obanai crouched in front of you, his mismatched eyes blazing with barely-contained anger. His hand is still gripping your wrist, tight enough that it’s almost painful, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I-I didn’t mean-” you stammer, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“You didn’t mean what? To nearly kill yourself? To fall off a cliff like it’s nothing?”

His voice rises, each word sharper than the last.

“Do you even realize how close you were?!”

Tears well up in your eyes, hot and stinging, as his words hit you like a physical blow. You hadn’t meant to be careless - it wasn’t like you wanted to fall. But hearing the raw frustration in his voice, seeing the way his knuckles are white from gripping your wrist too tightly, makes you feel like you’ve done something unforgivable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“I didn’t-”

He cuts you off again, though this time it’s not with words. He pulls you into his arms so suddenly that you barely have time to react. His embrace is firm, almost desperate, and the tension in his body makes it clear that he’s holding on more for himself than for you.

“Don’t do that again,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your hair.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

Your tears spill over, and you nod against his chest, your hands clutching at his haori as if letting go would send you tumbling back over the edge. He’s warm, solid in a way that grounds you, his presence filling the air with something that feels like safety.

For a long moment, the two of you stay like that, the wind swirling around you but never quite reaching where he holds you. His hand moves to the back of your head, cradling it gently, and you feel his fingers tremble ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur again, your voice barely audible.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He sighs, the sound heavy but softer than before.

“You didn’t just scare me,” he says quietly, his voice steady now.

“You almost—” He stops himself, shaking his head.

“Just... be more careful. It’s not like I’m able to be around you all the time.”

You nod, pressing closer to him. The anger in his tone has faded, replaced by something warmer, something that feels like relief. His grip loosens just enough for you to breathe, but he doesn’t let go entirely.

After a while, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands settling on your shoulders. His gaze, though still stern, is no longer angry. Instead, it’s filled with something you can’t quite name, a mix of worry and something softer, something more fragile.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again.  Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

He studies you for a moment longer, as if trying to determine whether you mean it, before nodding.

“Good.”

And then, to your surprise, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, visible through the bandages that cover his inviting lips. It’s fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, but it’s there, and it warms you in a way that nothing else could.

“Come on. Let’s get away from the edge.”

You take his hand without hesitation, letting him pull you to your feet. His grip is steady, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary as if to reassure himself that you’re really there.

“But…Why were you here in the first place?”

Obanai can’t help but get lost in a wave of coughing, his cheeks turning bright pink. Maybe, just maybe because he has his eyes on you since he can remember and never misses the chance to be around you when he’s home.

“Just…because”, he mumbles.

And as the two of you walk back toward safety, his hand never quite lets go of yours.

Rengoku Kyojuro

The festival is alive with the hum of happy chatter and flickering lanterns, their golden glow dancing across the busy streets. The air is thick with the scent of grilled skewers and sweetened rice cakes, and laughter echoes around you like a warm embrace. You pause at a stall, admiring the delicate charms on display.

You've been in love with those annual festivals since you were young, always admiring the different stalls with all the goos from far away while wearing your best kimono out.

But today was even better with that tall stranger wearing that elegant red kimono and those beaming eyes. Even though he talked louder than everyone surrounding him, you never got tired of listening to his food advice.

Maybe you should really try the sweet potatos he mentioned earlier. You lean in closer, trying to decide between a bento box and a side of sweet potatos when a scream cuts through the noise like a blade.

It’s sharp, raw, and sends a chill down your spine.

The joyous energy of the crowd fractures, shattering into chaos as people scatter. The street that had been so full of life mere moments ago is now a stampede of panicked footsteps. Vendors abandon their carts, children cry out for their parents, and the cheerful festival music grinds to a halt.

You hesitate, your instincts screaming at you to run, but your feet refuse to move. You can’t see what’s happening yet - the crowd is too thick - but the smell of blood is unmistakable, metallic and sickly sweet, twisting your stomach into knots.

And then you see it.

A demon emerges from the shadows, its grotesque face twisting into a wide, terrifying grin as it prowls forward. Its claws are long, sharp, and dripping with fresh blood. It locks eyes with you—a predator that has spotted its prey.

You freeze.

You’ve heard stories about demons. You know they’re real, but knowing something and facing it are two very different things. Your legs tremble, your heart slamming against your ribs, but you can’t make yourself move. It’s as though the world has narrowed, the monster at the center, everything else falling away.

It lunges.

A blur of orange and red streaks through the air before it can reach you.

"Do not dare to touch this lady!"

The voice is booming, confident, and electrifying. The demon’s attack is intercepted, its claws clashing with a nichirin blade that burns like fire. You gasp as your rescuer appears, his haori billowing around him like flames brought to life.

Rengoku Kyojuro.

“Do not fear!” he declares, his smile broad and reassuring even as he pushes the demon back with a powerful swing of his sword.

“You are safe now, young lady! I will not allow harm to come to you!”

He is...The stranger from before, the man with the elegant kimono!

The demon snarls, lunging again with feral speed, but Rengoku meets it head-on. His blade flashes, and sparks erupt as the demon’s claws glance off his sword. He’s a blur of motion, his strikes precise and devastating, and yet there’s something graceful in the way he moves, as though the fight is a choreographed dance he has perfected.

You watch, rooted to the spot, as he delivers the final blow. Flames erupt from his blade.

"Flame Breathing, Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!"

A fiery streak takes the shape of a roaring tiger, consuming the demon in one final, dazzling strike. Its body disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing behind but the acrid smell of death.

The silence that follows is almost as shocking as the chaos that preceded it.

Rengoku turns to you, lowering his sword but keeping it at the ready. His golden eyes scan your face, his expression softening into something kinder.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice warm, though tinged with concern.

You nod shakily, though you’re not entirely sure if you’re alright. Your knees feel like jelly, and your heart is still racing, but his presence alone feels like an anchor.

“Y-Yes. I think so,” you manage to whisper.

He steps closer, his towering frame somehow not intimidating but comforting.

“You were very brave to stay so calm,” he comments, his smile returning, this time gentler.

“But next time, it’s best to run. Demons are relentless creatures.”

“I-I couldn’t move,” you admit, shame coloring your voice.

“I froze.”

His gaze softens further, and he crouches slightly, bringing himself more to your eye level.

“That’s natural,” he replies, his tone soothing.

“Fear is not weakness. It’s what reminds us to protect what’s important.”

He tilts his head, his smile growing.

“But you’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.”

You feel tears pricking at your eyes, the overwhelming relief hitting you all at once. Before you can say anything, his warm hand gently pats the top of your head, his calloused fingers light but grounding.

“Good work holding on,” he says quietly.

“You did well.”

Your breath hitches at the kindness in his words. He straightens then, offering you his hand.

“Shall I escort you somewhere safe?” he asks, his voice as bright and steady as the flame he wields.

“There’s no need to fear - I’ll protect you.”

You take his hand, its warmth seeping into your skin, and nod. Somehow, with him beside you, the world doesn’t feel so terrifying anymore.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt @sanemifucker @blunderland

[satxnsupreme666]

Love in the darkest hour: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Masterlist

Requested by: @perfectartisanwerewolf

Summary: During Agatha´s trial, you are the one that gets possessed, Rio and Agatha get protective of you but you end up getting hurt, your girlfriends feel guilty and all of the wicthes get worried about you.

Warnings: Reader gets hurt, mention of wounds, broken bones, angst and fluff,  I think that´s it (Oh, and English is not my first language but I still try hard to check my own grammar)

Word count:  6k+

Author’s notes: In this story Alice does not die.

Hello, this was a requested story, and I wanted to write it before posting the final old stories I wrote three years ago, sorry that I took three days to write this and that is not longer, but I will be honest, I divide my time between doing nothing at all or doing everything at the same time (that means writing, reading, listening to some music, playing something, watching a movie etc.)

I hope this is what you were waiting for @perfectartisanwerewolf ♥️

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance

“We’re ok” Agatha announced after all of you had had to fly away from the Salem seven, it had been close, really close, all of you really needed to be more careful, you still were worried about those entities trying to get Agatha, she had told you that you didn’t need to worry about, but still, you didn’t want that something happened to Agatha.

“No, we’re not, the entire Halloween aisle’s outside waiting for us” Maybe Jenn was right, could they be really outside?

“Well it doesn’t look like they can get in, does it? All we have to do is complete the trial and continue on before they can get us” Her sentence seemed to calm everyone a little bit, Jenn seemed to relax a little.

“My spell book, I can’t find it!” The teen started to look inside his little bag.

“Where’d you have it last time?” Lilia tried to reason with him so he could think clearly.

“Flying on a broom” The teen sounded sad, so you went towards him and put your hand on his shoulder, you felt bad for him, you wanted to reassure him somehow.

“Forget about it, you can take the training wheels off” The older witch said to him still standing in front of the door.

The teen looked at you and Lilia with a sad expression.

“Hey it’s alright, Agatha’s right, you don’t need it, all of those spells that were on your notebook are also there inside your head, you know all of them, so don’t worry alright?” He seemed to understand because he quickly smiled at you and nodded.

Agatha saw the interaction with a smile on her face, she loved how you were be able to make everyone feel better; you knew how to cheer someone up, you could not only heal physical wounds, but also wounds that were not visible and that only hurt people emotionally.

You sensed someone watching you and turned to look at the direction where you sensed the gaze on you, Agatha was looking at you from her place, she was staring at you with so much love, she winked at you and smiled back at her.

“Look at you!” The teen suddenly said to you, you looked back at him and then at your clothes, noticing the style of the clothes that you were wearing, it was kind of like the ones in the slasher movies you liked to watch.

Looking back at the teen in front of you, you noticed his shirt and shorts as well, glancing back at the other witches you realized they were wearing the same clothing style, same thing that had happened during the last trials, you still wondered when would be your trial and what theme would it be, would it have a creepy vibe? With maybe a haunted house? Or maybe an abandoned house in the middle of a forest? A hill? You were excited to find out.

“You look like one of the teens from those eighties and nineties slasher movies” You had to tell him, if not you knew the idea would never leave your mind.

He took a glance at his clothes and then at the surroundings, he could not deny that you were right, all of you looked like one the main characters of a slasher movie set in the 80’s or 90’s, he remembered something so suddenly that he had to take you by your shoulders, you giggled before he even had the chance to say what had crossed his mind.

“Oh my god, y/n I have the perfect playlist for this!” You grinned and saw how he moved his hands to his sides, as if he was trying to find something, he pursed his lips and looked back at you.

“Right, I forgot, I don’t have my phone either” He sounded a little bit annoyed but smiled at the end anyway.

“You don’t even have pockets remember” you were right, he should have remembered that first.

Rio had heard your comment about the slasher movies and turned herself to look at him, she smirked and walked closer to the two of you.

When she saw you from behind, she noticed that you were wearing clothes that were similar to hers and her eyes looked you up and down, when she got closer to you, she passed her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her, you instinctively rested your head against her chest.

The teen noticed the smirk on Rio’s face which only made him squirm, Rio scared him, her deadly stare made him grimace.

“Hey, she is right, you do look like a character in a slasher movie from the 80’s, you would be the first character to die at the start of the movie” She said to him while staring without blinking and on top of that, the smirk had never disappeared from her face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at her comment, slightly you patted her chest, the teen swallowed hard and blinked several times trying to laugh awkwardly.

“That is not something nice to say Vidal, don’t mess with him, you scare him” You said to her with a pout on your face.

“She does not scare me” The teen replied back, but Rio turned her head hastily at him and bit into the air, as if she was warning him that she could bite him, the teen jumped slightly.

“Maybe just a little” The dark-haired boy commented being wary of Rio.

“Don’t mind her” Was what you said to him while looking at him with a smile on your face.

“I think you would be one of the final boys that make it to the end of the movie” The boy in front of you seemed to think about it and nodded, he seemed convinced that he would actually be a final girl, and you didn’t doubt it, he smiled fondly at you, and Rio started to caress your back.

“Who would you think I’ would be in a slasher movie set on the 80’s sweetheart?” Rio asked you rising her right eyebrow.

You brought your hand to your chin and acted as if you were in deep thought, but of course, you already had your answer.

“You would be the killer, the killer everyone suspects but cannot actually prove it” You said out lout and the teen gasped.

“She is right, you would be the killer” You had not noticed that the other witches had walked towards you, they were already near you and were looking at you with small smiles on their faces.

Even if they did not trust Agatha at all, and were a little bit scared of Rio because of her antics, they find you really adorable.

In their minds they still could not comprehend how someone as sweet as you, who only used magic to heal people, was with the other two witches.

They still did not understand what a healing witch whose magic was as pure as the meaning of white lilies was doing with Agatha Harkness, former user of the darkhold and with Rio, the witch who did not care about anything and seemed to be so scary, the same woman who agreed on being a “psycho” with a big smile on her face.

Even if they did not comprehend it at all, they could see the way the two witches acted around you, and the way they treated you, they were soft with you, you were the only one that could see and had the privilege to see that side of them, you felt really lucky.

Rio turned her head back at the teen and tilted her head slightly.

“If I was the killer, you would be my first victim, you would not even make it to the second act” Your girlfriend said as if she was just saying facts.

“That is not right Rio, I am pretty sure he would be one of the few that actually makes it to the end” Rio cackled and you tilted your head to give her a disapproving look.

“Ah, fine, he would make it to the end” This deep down made the teen jump internally, it made him feel excited that she had admitted that.

Rio gave you a playful pat on your shoulder.

“Let me look for Agatha, we don’t want her to cause more trouble do we?” She winked at you and left your side.

Alice then came to stand next to the teen, with a curious look on her face.

“Who would I be in a slasher movie?” She inquired looking excited to know your answer.

Examining her carefully you came to the only conclusion that seemed accurate for Alice.

“I think you would be the main character, the protagonist who is tortured and stalked by the killer, because she was the only one who escaped, you would be one of the original final girls, the final girl who fights back, like Laurie Strode on Halloween” Her eyebrows were risen and nodded her head in understanding.

“Yeah, she is totally right, you would be a total badass” The teen agreed with you. Alice beamed with happiness and pressed her hands together.

“You heard that?” Alice asked glancing at Jenn and Lilia.

“I am not really a fan of horror movies, so I really don’t know what you are talking about” Explained Jenn and Lilia nodded her head in a way of showing she felt the same.

Smiling at them you started to explain everything “It’s fine, basically, the horror or slasher movies tend to have a series of “rules” that characterize them, one thing for the slasher movies is for example, that there is a killer-“

“Sometimes there are two killers” The teen quickly said.

“Or sometime yes there are two killers, who usually start their murder spree killing different characters, and the final girl is the character who makes it to the end of the movie and defeats the villain” You finished your explanation.

“Who do you think Agatha would be?” The teen inquired.

“I would say that because of her personality traits she would be the killer that no one suspects of, I mean she is smart, charming” The four of them nodded in agreement.

“And who would you be?” The boy asked you again.

“I would be the character who dies at the start” You simply said, and they all started to discuss that in fact that would not be true.

“I think you would be the character that everyone is attached to, like the character who is friends with everyone and who also everyone tries to protect, you know? also I can see how you would be close to the final girl and you would get extra protection” The teen said and put a finger on his chin, looking at you, analyzing you, you only smiled at him and shook your head.

“Is this how people really looked at the time? I mean, the clothing style, the vibe, all of it?” You wondered out loud and jumped when you felt someone hugging you from behind, you felt the arms of Rio pulling you closer to her.

“Yes, people actually dressed up like this” Agatha said behind you, and all of you turned to look at her, she had kind of a disheveled look, he hair up in a ponytail and the oversized purple shirt fitted her amazingly.

“Whose trial is this?” Asked the teen while looking up at the ceiling.

Rio looked at the window in front of you and you did the same thing, the blood moon could be perfectly seen since your position.

“Agatha’s” answered the witch holding you from behind, you were a little bit worried, so you turned your head to look at Agatha, she saw your worried expression and gave you a reassuring smile, it was a tad scary for her, but with you and Rio there by her side, she knew the trial would be easily passed, or at least, that’s what she hoped.

Hearing Lilia’s explanation about the blood money and the believe of a misconception she mentioned, everyone turned around to look at their beeping watches in their wrists.

“The road wants us to Ouija” The teen showed all of you the board, and everyone started to gather closer, then he proceeded to read the rules.

“Number two, do not speak over each other” And all the witches began to speak over each other, clearly not realizing what they were doing.

Rio and you heard clearly when Agatha demanded to be shown the rules to see if it actually said that and you couldn’t help but share an amused look with her,

Rio shook her head smiling and sticking her tongue out a little, you tried to hide your laugh but you couldn’t, Agatha realized who was laughing and she looked at you, you were next to her left and Rio was next to you.

“What?” Agatha asked with feigned innocence, and you just shrugged your shoulders.

“What is so funny doll?” Agatha asked again and came closer to you to caress your hair, you unconsciously leant into her touch, and let her guide you to rest your head on her chest.

“I love the way you look in those clothes” She commented dangerously close to your ear witch a husky voice.

“Not the time for that” You replied amused, you had to focus on passing the trial.

“Shall we start?” Agatha seemed to tense and you saw the way she started to swallow, it was obvious that she was nervous, the teen sat on the floor and the other witches started to do the same forming a circle.

“Hey, are you alright?” You asked her while she squeezed your hands, you felt the way she pulled you closer to her, and you happily leant into her touch.

“I will be alright, don’t worry” She said to you in a whisper.

“Rio and I are here for you, you know?” You replied back at her and she nodded with a smile in her face.

“I know, thank you, I love you so much” Agatha said near your ear and she pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get started” She said, you did not notice the way Agatha nodded at Rio, Rio understood and Agatha took your hand one more time to hand you to Rio, Agatha gave you one last squeeze and Rio took your hand in hers, the brown-eyed woman smiled reassuringly at Agatha and put her arm around your waist, she pushed you slightly and placed you next to her right, while Agatha sat next to you as well, leaving you in the middle of the two of them.

Everyone on the room put their hands on the board and waited for Agatha to start, when her hands got separated from the board you really got scared and quickly turned your head to look at Rio, she saw your worried expression and quickly mouthed a “Don´t worry” and smiled slightly at you.

“She´s scared” Commented Rio while you sighed in relief, for a moment you had thought your girlfriend had been possessed, Rio then patted the sit ordering Agatha to come and sit again.

“Do not do that, it was funny, but you got her scared” Rio said to Agatha and nodding towards you, while the blue-eyed woman sat back next to you and she gave you a shy smile.

“Sorry love, I thought it was funny” The older witch commented with an apologetical look.

Sighing you just shook your head and slightly bumped your shoulders against her.

“It alright, I just do not want anything to happen to you” Rio then looked back at her and nodded, she felt the same even if she found her little joke funny.

“Alright” The blue-eyed woman proceeded to place her hands on the board and everyone did the same, you were not going to lie, feeling the board moving so hard and faster made your heart beat in fear, you never had played it and it actually made you feel scared, but you knew you had to do it in order to pass the trial.

“Punish Agatha” Was what the board said and you quickly felt yourself getting tense, but before someone could actually understand what was happening you heard Agatha yelling at everyone to stop it and you were not sure what or how it happened but Agatha got her hands off the board and you panicked.

The scream that was all over the place, was so loud and it pierced you ears.

You saw her getting to the floor and she covered her ears just as everyone else did, but you were still worried of what could happen to your girlfriend since it was her trial, so you uncovered you ears not caring if the loud sound made your ears hurt and went to kneel next to Agatha to check if she was fine and did not have any type of physical wounds.

Agatha noticed your face contorted in pain, but her heart melted when she realized you were checking her to make sure she was not hurt, out of instinct she uncover her ears and made sure your ears were covered using her own hands, even in the middle of the chaos she still managed to show you how much she cared for you.

You were so lost in her eyes that you did not even notice when things calmed down, the scream could not be heard anymore and the things flying around the room were already scattered all over the floor.

“Is it over?” Your eyes stared to examine the room and the witches around you, getting closer and closer, what happened?

“Sorry y/n, but it seems like in order to pass this trial we have to punish Agatha” Jenn was looking right at Agatha, her gaze not darting somewhere else.

“There has to be another way” The teen said out loud and you agreed with him.

“Wait no! You cannot just decide that you are going to hurt her” You said to the three witches in front of you, your pleading eyes started to get glossy, they could not actually think that this was their way out right? Even if the ghost or whatever was wanted that, there had to be another way.

The teen looked horrified about what could happen, it was clearly they were not thinking clearly and with Rio walking faster towards the two of you, he panicked as well.

“I am sorry but you have to move” Jenn said with what you thought maybe, just maybe was guilty.

Alice was unsure, they were not actually going to do something to Agatha right? She looked at Lilia who had the same unsure look on her face.

Your pleading eyes with tears about to be shed made them feel unsure on what to do, they knew that you loved her and you would not be able to do anything to her, but what if that was what the ghost wanted them to do?

Before they got the time to get closer to you Rio appeared in front of the two of you and got her knife out of wherever she hid it, you were always amazed because whenever you saw her getting something out of her pockets or her clothes, you never really understood where she hid all of the things she carried with her.

“No one is touching Agatha, nor y/n” She said with a firm tone.

Agatha caressed your back and nodded at you, she gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand.

“It´s alright, don´t worry, nothing is going to happen to me, ok” She pressed her forehead against you and you nodded, Agatha then stood up and came up behind Rio.

“Listen, we can talk about it and see what other options we have, let´s not get wild” She said trying to be reasonable, but then a sound was heard from your spot, and everyone turned to where the sound had come from.

“Where is she?” The teen asked with his eyes wide open, the witches started to turn themselves around looking for you.

“Sweetheart? Where are you?” Agatha asked out loud, and everyone started to move to different directions trying to see if they could catch a glimpse of where were you.

“We have to find her! She was right there and the next second she was not, how is that even possible?”  Your girlfriend Agatha started to panic, it was something weird when it came to her, being panicked was not a state she was used to, but when it come to you or Rio, she could not help but worry more than anything.

“Hey, look at me, we are going to find her, she could not have gotten too far” Rio reassured her and Agatha nodded, she was right, you could not have gotten too far.

They all gasped in unison when the lights went out.

“Hey, we were not going to actually hurt your girlfriend Agatha, just come out wherever you are” The potions which announced while she examined the room.

The teen started to look for something that they could use to get some light, and when he found a lamp, he looked pleased, now it would be easier to look for you.

“Hey, does anyone hear that” Lilia inquired and the teen felt something that had touched his shoulder, he visibly tensed and pointed the lamp towards the ceiling.

The scream that came after seeing you was inevitable, the other witches looked up as well and started to scream as well.

“Oh my god, what happened to her?” Jenn screamed and walked back until she hit one of the walls.

“Agatha get her out of the ceiling!” Alice yelled at her.

“I would if I had my powers!” Agatha yelled back; her face was full of worry.

“She is going to get hurt” Lillia declared while covering her mouth with her hand.

What they were not waiting, was that you jumped from the ceiling, landing with a hard thud against the floor.

“Is she hurt? Someone please check her!” Alice yelled again

“She is not y/n” The teen screamed when suddenly your body got up from the fall and started to contort your body, he squirmed and crawled back to try to protect himself from what he was seeing in front him.

“She is possessed for real” The teen was horrified, the look you had on your face was clearly not something he was expecting, he just hoped that neither of you would get hurt.

“Someone needs to grab her!” Someone in the back yelled, but due to everyone screaming the teen did not even recognize whose voice it was.

“No! wait, she could get hurt! No one is touching her!” Rio glanced menacingly.

“Then how can we help her?!” Agatha asked desperately, she came to place herself next to Rio, the two of them wanted to actually try and do something, maybe catch you and bring you to the center, but the way your body was contorting made them afraid that they could hurt you more.

“Oh my god guys, why are her bones sounding like that?” The teen screamed out of fear at the sound of your cracking bones, you were getting too close to him when suddenly your body for some seconds went limp and crashed against the floor, they were going to go and help you but after only some seconds your body stood up again crashing against the wall, Lilia was quick to get the power back and in a blink of an eye, you disappear again.

“Where is she? Where is she?” Rio looked several times around the room trying to see if you were again on the ceiling.

Before the withes could have more time to look for you, they saw something that looked like white fog forming in front of the stairs.

“That is a ghost, I hate ghosts” Rio said completely angered, Agatha was next to her looking at it with her brows furrowed, where had you gone?

What Agatha saw next made her gasp; her mother had materialized in front of them.

“Mother?” Agatha asked not believing what her eyes were watching.

A sound caught their attention and they looked up to see what was going upstairs, there you were, Agatha sighed in relief but after the worry could be gone, it took over her again, you were trying to stand up, grabbing your left arm with your right hand, you were crying, your sobs were loud enough for them to hear.

“What did you do to her?” Rio asked angrily taking a step forward, and Agatha did the same.

“You have to keep walking the witches´ road without her” The ghost of Evanora Harkness said to them.

Everyone gasped in shock.

“No way, we are not leaving her with you, she comes with us” Agatha said with a firm tone, never hesitating.

“Leave this girl with me, then you will be free to go” The ghost replied.

Lilia, Alice, Jenn and the teen looked at each other, they were not going to leave you there with her, and if they also needed to fight a ghost even if they did not how, they would do it.

“Taking one of the people I love the most?” Agatha laughed bitterly at the thought.

“There is no way we are leaving her with you!” Rio replied back at the ghost with a threatening tone in her voice.

“We are not letting her stay with her, you hear me? She is going to leave with us Agatha” Rio assured the blue-eyed woman.

“It is your time to pay for what you have done, you were born evil, you should not have a chance at love, I repeat, leave her with me, and you can go” Agatha clenched her jaw, Rio who was next to her was fuming, even if they wanted to do something, what could they do against a ghost?

You were crying, your whole body in pain, you were sure you were going to have bruises, you could not even lift your arm and you wondered if maybe it had been broken.

You heard everything Evanora said to her, that she was evil, but that was not true, Agatha was not evil, she was a misunderstood witch who did not have anyone to back her up and show her to control her powers, and even if you were in pain you would let your girlfriend know that her mother was not right.

“Do not listen to her Agatha, we know you are not evil, you are worthy of love” You managed to say between sobs, Agatha did not have time to answer to you, because her mother spoke again.

“I will not repeat myself” The ghost announced.

Agatha could not help the tears falling from her face, it was all her fault you were in pain, her own fault that you had been possessed by her mother, she was being punished for al the things she had done in the past, seeing you in so much pain was breaking he heart, Rio was so mad, it infuriated her seeing you and Agatha both in pain.

Before they could do something else, the ghost disappeared and they watch the way your body started to contort again, you came crawling down the stairs, the witches watched in horror.

“Leave her alone” The witch with the red strands on her hair pushed the teen, Agatha and Rio to the side, all of them saw Alice throwing her powers at you.

“Don´t hurt her!” Agatha shouted ready to go and push Alice away from you, but the teen and Rio stopped her, and watched they way your body return to your normal form, the paleness leaving your skin, and the white fog dissipated.

After some minutes Alice stopped, and you felt to the floor with a loud thud, you quickly started to groan in pain, trying to get up from the floor.

Agatha and Rio ran towards you to help you stand up.

“It hurts so much” You said to them still crying, Agatha could not take in how much pain you were, she did not want to hurt you more, but they needed to check your body.

“I know sweetheart, we know it hurt but we have to touch you to check your body alright?” Rio whispered to you in a reassuring way, it pained her too much too see you suffering.

They tried to help you stand up, but the pain in your body was too much, Agatha could see the bruises forming on your legs and on your arms, and seeing the way your arm had taken a really weird position, she knew it was broken.

“Baby, can you tell us where it hurts?” You heard Rio asking you, her voice sounded a little bit shaky.

“My arm, is what hurts the most” Yous said between sobs, you wanted the pain to stop, but you knew that even healing yourself was going to hurt a lot.

“I think… I think I can try to heal it but, but I am scared, it is going to hurt so much” Agatha turned her head to look at Rio, she closed her eyes, your sobs made her so hard to maintain a hard façade as always.

“Listen, we are here with you, we are not letting you go, you can take my hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, alright?” Agatha said before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Rio placed herself next to Agatha, the blue-eyed woman placed you on her lap, and Rio put her hands on your back, caressing you up and down.

The witches standing in front of you, could not also take the sight, the teen had to look away, he could not stand seeing you crying from pain, and the way your arm was positioned, made him feel uneasy.

Lilia was holding Alice´s hand, watching with glossy eyes, they could not believe that you were the one that had got hurt, Jenn wanted to do something to help you ease the pain, but nothing came to her mind.

 You clung to Agatha´s shirt, and focused hard on the pain you were feeling, Rio never stopped running her hands up and down on your back, trying to soothe you and waiting the pain would stop.

“Everything will be alright, you are going to be fine, we love you so much” Agatha said into your ear, you were trembling and she hated so much that she could not anything.

After several minutes of sobbing harder, you felt you arm getting back to its normal position, your magic had worked, the powers accommodating the bones, putting them in their normal place, Agatha was caressing your legs with her free hands and noticed the bruises disappearing.

With one final breath, you felt yourself relaxing, the pain going away completely, and when Agatha and Rio were sure you were not hurting anymore, a door opened, all of you looked at it.

“We passed the trial” The teen said out loud, they were relieved you had stopped crying, but felt immensely guilty for not have been able to do anything to help you somehow.

 “We have to go sweetheart” She squeezed your shoulders lovingly, and the two of your grilfriends helped you to stand up.

Agatha quickly pulled you closer to her, her left hand on your waist, Rio put her hand on your shoulders, afraid of letting you walk alone.

They started to walk towards the door to get ready to leave and go back to the road.

“Alice” Agatha called for her when she started to walk in front of you, she turned quickly to look at you and to the other two witches in front of her.

“Thank you, for saving her” Agatha said with a soft look on her face, it was sincere, Agatha sounded sincere for the first time since the have arrived at the road, and smiled at her.

“It is alright, you do not have to thank me, I really wish I had done more” Alice gave the three of you an apologetically smile.

“You saved me” You replied at her.

“It was more than enough, Alice” Agatha let her know, Rio gave her a nod and the shorter witch smiled, it was a big smile, she turned herself around and started to walk back towards the door.

The three of you were the last standing in the room right in front of the door that would take you back to the road.

Agatha made you stop and you looked at her, with a frown on your face.

“Listen, I, I am sorry, it was my fault, because of me, because of what I have done in the past, you got hurt, and, none of us could do something to actually help you, I feel so-“ You abruptly interrupted her.

“Don´t blame yourself please, it was not your fault, please stop blaming yourself” You wiped her tears out of her face before talking again.

“I would never blame you for anything, I am fine, we are fine, we passed the trial, I am happy nothing happened to you” Before you could continue speaking, you felt her arm wrapping you in a hug, she passed her arms around your waist and you heard her cry, she loved you with her entire heart, and she could not stop blaming herself, what if something worse had happened to you?

Rio went to place herself next to Agatha and started to caress her back before looking at you.

“Hey, it´s alright, I would never, really never, let anyone hurt any of you, I would break the rules for you, so you can rest assure Agatha, that I won´t let anything else happen to her, alright?” Rio knew what to say, because you felt Agatha getting relaxed and she sighed.

“We are going to keep an eye on you, we are going to make sure noting else happens to you, we swear” Agatha commented while looking into your eyes, and Rio nodded quickly.

Smiling at them, the three of you started to walk again, ready to face whatever would be next, Agatha and Rio let you in first, and it made you laugh, you were not sure what was going to happen, or if something really worst was waiting for you outside, but what you were sure, was that with the two of your girlfriends taking care of you, you would be fine, and that was alright, you knew that if anything happened, Rio and Agatha would be there for you, ready to fight against anything that would even just threaten you, so you smiled pulled yourself closer to them when you stepped outside of that place, Agatha came next to you and again she pressed her hand on your waist, and Rio put her hand on your shoulder, they started to guide you to the group that was waiting for you in the middle of the road, and you smiled, you were going to be alright, no matter what.

When you got closer to the group, they heard the leaves been stepped on by someone and they quickly turned their head to look at you, they all had smiles on their faces.

You saw the way the teen turned his body completely towards you and he opened his arms, the closer you got the more you noticed his puffy eyes, when you arrived in front of him, you quickly opened your arms as well and let him engulf you in a hug.

“Thank god you are fine” He said while the two of you slightly swung due to the teen moving to the sides, you giggled and separated yourself to look at him.

“I am fine because Alice saved me” You replied to him and realized all of the witches had come closer and were standing really close to you and the teen hugging you.

You looked to your left to see Alice wiping quickly one tear that was running down her face, and tried to act as if she did not want to cry, she quickly cleared her throat and saw how Lilia and Jenn were smiling at her, Lilia put her hand on Alice´s shoulder and caressed it lovingly.

You chuckled and walked closer to Alice until you were standing next to her, she looked up from the floor to look at you and she shrugged her shoulders.

“No big deal, it was what anyone else would have done, so we´re cool-“ Before she could continue talking you hugged her, your arms around her shoulders.

“Thank you so much Alice, you really are a protection witch, please never doubt that, you are amazing” Your words had touched her heart and she hugged you more, she nodded and when you looked back at her face you noticed she had left the tears ran freely down her face.

“Thank you y/n” Alice replied back at you.

“I am sorry I, I just let you there, in pain, I, I should have done something else, try to look for something to ease the pain but-“ You quickly took Jenn´s hands on yours, you knew she was not really keen on physical contact so you tried to respect that about her.

“It´s alright, you don´t have to be sorry, it was something that was out of your hands, I am grateful that you were able to save him and stop the bleeding, and that´s more than enough, thank you about that, we did not have the time to thank you for that” You said to her smiling, Jenn nodded and caressed the back of your hand.

“Can I get a hug? Everyone seems to love your hugs, I wonder what is so special about them” You nodded laughing and got yourself close to her to hug her, she always smelled amazingly, her perfume seemed to never actually leave her.

“Oh darling, I am so happy you are fine, I cannot imagine what Agatha and Rio would have ended up doing if something happened to you” Lilia pulled you closer to her after you separated yourself from Jenn, and you let her hug you while caressing your back, Lilia then took your hands in hers, and looked straight into your eyes.

“You are so important to everyone, do not ever let yourself think you do not matter alright?” She said to you with a firm tone, yet it was soft at the same time, you could only nod and your eyes filled with tears.

Agatha and Rio looked at the scene in front of them, and Agatha could only think that no one was going to let you get hurt, if for any reason Rio and her were not able to actually protect you, they knew they still had a coven that would do anything to try and protect you as well.

“It looks that you will have to start being kinder to them” Rio said to her with a smirk but she actually meant it.

“Shut up” Agatha said while pushing her slightly in a playful way.

“But you are right, we are a coven after all” Agatha commented while the two of them got close to you and placed each one of them to your sides, both of their hands on your waist.

“We still have to keep on walking, let´s go” Agatha caressed your back again, and while everyone nodded and continued to walk, you couldn’t help the smile on your face from getting bigger, maybe this would be the time for Agatha to start trusting in others, apart from only trusting in you and Rio, but you would still have a lot of time In which you would be able to help Agatha with that, right now, you still had a road to face, and you had never felt so safe and ready to face whatever that would appear.

After all, you had your girlfriends to take care of you, and a whole coven that now, looked after each other.

[cthulhus-curse]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,561

Warnings: Ghostface WandaNat, Darkfic, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Murder, Knife Play, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Strap-Ons | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: In which you find out the culprits of your former partner's death and receive more than what you bargained for.

On the one year anniversary, you failed to open your eyes in time. Regardless of the insistent beeping from the alarm, the voice from downstairs shouting your name along with the mocking chirps of the birds beneath your window, you remained still. The sole humoring of yet another year without your one and only, the person who you once deemed as the love of your life, made your bones chill while your blood ran cold. 

But of course your parents simply brushed it off. They knew of the difficulty you had to carry on leading up to the days of the first anniversary, and yet your mother didn’t do much but bark at you to get ready as the bus was leaving. Another morning in the hellish town of Westview. Oh how you longed to gain independence once the final semester of your senior year had passed. Only a few weeks left and school would be out. Then you’d finally move to the other side of the country leaving all your dismay and fury towards the town behind. 

Upon your arrival at school, a brown bag filled with half a sandwich and an apple you didn’t have the appetite for, all eyes were on you. It hadn’t missed you. The pity each person felt, the laughter behind closed doors at your loss. And yet no one dared utter her name. Kate Bishop. Was it that hard? For someone who hadn’t dared mutter it out into the world since the day of her disappearance, the presumed death you had long accepted to be true, you ought to cut everyone else some slack. 

“Good morning. I didn’t think you’d show up today,” came the greeting from your best friend. Thor was many things, but easy with his words was not one of them. “You know, with Kate’s death and everything. You didn’t take the day off.”

Each sound coming from his wretched mouth made your blood boil. “Yeah no shit Sherlock. I’m here, aren’t I?” You didn’t need to turn as the two of you waltzed down the packed hallways dripping with pity for you to know his worry faltered into hurt. “Sorry. I’m just a bit shaken up today for obvious reasons. Mom and dad didn’t think it was that bad so here I am. They said we didn’t know each other that well for me to be depressed. I mean, fuck, we knew each other since we were kids. How can they say that?”

“I’m sorry,” Thor mumbled, placing a sympathetic arm upon your upper back. “We can skip together if you want.”

“I’m not skipping class. They’ll kill me for that.”

“Oh like they killed Kate?” came a voice you knew so well from behind you. “I can’t wait until her body is found. It’s going to be so gross.”

Since the dawn of middle school, one Natasha Romanoff had taken it upon herself to reign hellfire down your life. A day didn’t go past where your classmate treated you with even an ounce of dignity. Somehow she got worse as time passed, especially once the whole incident with Kate occurred. 

You hadn’t attended school for weeks when she suddenly disappeared back in junior year. Your girlfriend of almost a year, a friend for longer, had left you behind to fend for yourself. Regardless of how many manhunts the police went on, the tedious nights you ran through the forest with the hopes of finding her until Thor had to drag you back to safety, Kate was gone. She probably skipped town so she didn’t have to deal with your sorry ass, was what Natasha always repeated. After weeks of such treatment, you began agreeing. 

“What’s wrong? Oh you’re not gonna cry, are you?” Natasha teased as she smacked your arm. Her reddened hair was up in a french braid, viridescent eyes darting down your body. “How pathetic. Does the little baby need a tissue, huh?”

Before you dared reply with a peace of your mind, there came her savior flying down the hall.

“Nat, stop. Don’t be such a dick.” Wanda Maximoff, the feared bully’s girlfriend, stood between you and the redhead. She flashed you an empathetic smile that you took as Thor’s nostrils flared. He didn’t like the so-called feigned kindness Wanda showered you with. “Are you alright today, sweetie? I can’t even begin to imagine how horrible you must be feeling. You know that if there’s ever anything you need, I’m right here for you. We all miss her so much. We got your back, Y/N.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Natasha grumbled low enough beneath her breath so that it was only hearable to her girlfriend. 

“Thanks, Wanda. You’re always so nice to me. I think I’m just a bit checked out today. Here’s to hoping the day goes by quickly.”

“It will if we skip class,” Thor pointed out. 

“As president of the student body I could never endorse that,” Wanda giggled. As a hand held a few of her books, Natasha’s arm wrapped carefully across her waist, she placed the other one on your arm with friendly banter. “You take care of yourself, honey. Take some breaks throughout the day, drink some water, and focus up on good things. The day will go by before you even know it.”

Never did you notice the hunger which Natasha eyed you with as she found herself exhilarated by the way her girlfriend held you so close – the disgust she felt towards your friend was lost in the air. Gripping Wanda’s waist, she silently begged for permission to strike. A knowing look from the shorter brunette forced her to lay back and wait. Soon enough they’d have you. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Did you hear the news?”

Those five words were ones you hadlong accustomed yourself to feel great disdain for. Upon the sound of them through the door of the last class of the day, you shuddered. You didn’t dare look up, losing yourself within the dread that overtook your soul. The seat next to your own had been empty throughout the period. 

Thor never skipped without giving you a head’s up. 

Upon hearing through hushed whispers and more stares your way, you ran out of the bathroom. The hint of bile which rose from your throat was held off until you reached a stall where you threw yourself, dumping out all the remaining torturous grief still carried from Kate’s loss alongside Thor’s. News spread quickly through the school, of course they did, but being shown a picture posted on a sock account on social media of Thor sprawled across the football field, eyes wide shut with a pair of knives lodged in his chest made you fall. 

You hadn’t found it in you to remove yourself from the floor. The walls across you turned, mocking your misery. The image of your best friend was clear in your mind. He was sweet, a caring man who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly, a complete lovable idiot who spent his days either playing sports or taking Jane out to whatever movie was being shown that weekend. No one hated him, but then again, no one had a reason to hate Kate either. 

Seeing him that morning so full of life made it impossible for you to humor the death, the macabre gore you had taken a slight look on someone’s phone, upon his cadaver. 

The day had ended there, the school dismissed halfway through the final class. The student body couldn’t be more thrilled to escape their prison as they grieved Thor’s surprise death in their own ways. As you strode through the halls ignoring the loudspeaker, calling your name to the school counselor’s office, and numerous classmates sobbing against the lockers, you carried on a somber expression. No sound was hearable, no hint of emotions or life within your features as people tried expressing their pity your way. 

Wanda’s cheerfulness creepily crawled out as she held onto Natasha’s hand, dragging her away to follow you. They’d get what they wished for, what they had longed for years. It was only a matter of time before they broke you entirely. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“I’m really sorry about what happened, kid. I can’t imagine it’s easy to lose the two most important people in your life like that. You know, we’re all here to talk about it if you’d like. Me, your mom, your dad, and some of your other friends. You’re not alone, okay?”

 And yet it felt that way. 

You couldn't muster hearing another word that came from your therapist. Since Kate’s death she had been there every step of the way. Although not by choice, you visited Dr. Danvers twice a week for almost a year. She was nice enough, the sole person who at least pretended to not pity you in a believable manner. But you knew that beneath every ‘sorry’ thrown your way, there was feigned sadness. 

“Do you want to tell me more about Thor?” Carol questioned softly. Each bout of words were like a dozen daggers crackling through your skin, a painfully lonely existence without your favorite two people alive. “We can talk about something else if you’d like.”

“It’s fine.” Those were the first words you had spoken upon your arrival – almost half an hour into the session. “I just miss him. I miss her.” It took all your willpower to not break down in front of your therapist. Never would you dare bring yourself to uttering their names again. “He died the day he went away. How is that even possible? I just…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go back to school and have everyone staring at me like I’m a sad freak. Just the thought of going back makes me think of them. Why did it happen? Why on that day?”

Carol held herself back from speaking, taking a second to revise her verbiage before responding. “Honey it was probably just a coincidence. Maybe someone was playing a sick joke. I really don’t have a good answer for you, I’m sorry.”

All that went through your brain was the image of Thor ingrained, burnt to ashes into your mind. Countless nights had been spent with lifeless eyes staring into the ceiling, boring your misery into your sole safe place. When tormented with agonizing experiences, you simply hid beneath the covers of the bed which shielded you from the outside. Numerous calls and texts from friends and family members had gone unanswered. Not even your parents could do more than to leave a plate of food by your door that was returned half-eaten. 

“Do you have thoughts about hurting yourself, Y/N?”

Within the depths of your darkest desires you wished to pull the knife from Thor’s body and throw it Carol’s way. “Are you fucking kidding me? How dare you?”

“It’s just something we have to cover because-”

“Because what? Jesus, Carol, my girlfriend disappeared a year ago and I had to see my best friend dead in the fucking school yard. And the only thing you care about is whether I’m killing myself or not?” The selfishness of it caused your distress to turn to fury as hands turned to fists. She cared about her job before your own well-being, about making sure you didn’t do anything which could taint her reputation. “I’m done with this. Don’t bother about rescheduling for later this week.”

Storming out the therapist’s office, you didn’t pay any mind to a peculiar couple sitting together at the waiting room, a redhead’s arm wrapped around a brunette. When green eyes twinkled, the smaller woman mumbled. “That's our next target. We can have a bit more fun with this one. Let’s make the bitch bleed, shall we?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A gruesome amount of blood coated the horribly sharp beam across her features. Wanda looked down, pleased to watch the pattern her partner followed. She had long memorized what to do, what tools to use, where to carry out such fun, and how to clean up. Never would she get caught with the intricate manner in which the young woman took her victims. Since her rather adventurous adolescence she had grown used to the mesmerizing way a person lost their sanity, their life, at her hands. 

“Right there, baby. One across her neck like that,” she tenderly instructed. “Just like I taught you.”

Natasha had come to her in the early years of high school. The firecracker was easily set off by her constant anger targeted at everyone around her, but as a confident force herself, Wanda tamed the beast that lay within the redhead. Little by little she was morphed into a willing pet who, although impulsive, required care and guidance over their fun pastime. 

Rather than follow the advice, Natasha kept slapping the knife down on Carol’s chest. Unadulterated fury was thrown over the therapist after she had made you cry. The fixation with you had begun in her younger years, always watching you prance around the halls, a lone-wolf who she knew desired to be claimed. No one dare step up and take what the world knew was rightfully hers. Her wishes were solely to get you on your knees, to push you down far enough to the point you required her support to get back up. She wouldn’t let a lowly shrink and your friend get between that. Wanda only went on with her obsession. 

“Don’t tell me how to do it. I’m not an idiot,” Natasha spat between gritted teeth. Her body was coated in a fresh set of scarlet paint. Although she was new to taking such a brutalistic approach to her need for you, she wouldn’t allow herself to be dominated by someone like Wanda. Of course little did the redhead know that she was fully wrapped around her girlfriend’s finger already, their shared grip upon you being far too delicious to let go – the thought of you always fresh in their minds as one got the other off. 

“Watch your tone.” While much softer, Wanda wouldn’t dare allow herself to be treated lowly.  “Here, let mommy help. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me? Don’t you remember that it was me who showed you how to get your prized puppy?”

“Yes.”

Wanda’s smirk was wide at that. To have both you and Natasha under her control was far too exquisite – she drowned in the power she held, playing god as she took the lives of those who defied her. “Yes what?”

“Yes, mommy.”

As soon as the defeated words were sighed, the thumping against the chest cavity of the blonde was put to a rest. Natasha sagged her head as she ran a palm oozing with blood against her face, humming at the safety it brought her. Soon enough they’d break you; soon enough you’d be theirs.

Taking a life in her hands with a lost one beneath, Wanda, the deity, tilted her head. She ran a hesitant thumb across Natasha’s cheek to take in all the exhaustion carried upon those muscular shoulders, her arms weak as she submitted. The shining promise rings upon each of their left hands signified the momentous devotion towards the other. Long had they waited for freedom. 

The separation the two of them had with you was torturous. Unabashed ire was cast upon those who they saw fit to be their lab rats. Nothing but trash which they rummaged through to find the perfect way to have you. Such displaced aggression was only the beginning of their turbulence coming undone. 

“There’s my good girl. Now look at how mommy does it, Natalia. Cut her like this.” Wanda allowed Natasha to remove herself from on top the therapist. The taller of the two kneeled before her master, green eyes in a frenzy as they watched on carefully. The previously dull, red blade was substituted by a mint knife coming from Wanda’s side. Although wearing just a plaid skirt, a white button-down, and high-knee socks covered by Converse, she found it to be a perfect outfit. Nothing could compare to the surprise they’d have for you. “See?”

Wanda took her time, exuding patience across the office as she dragged the freshly sharpened blade across Carol’s neck. Choked sobs, her breathing becoming shallower by the second as she could barely take in any air, was music to the young women’s ears. The orchestra that was desperation mixed with ghastly sloshing sounds whenever the skin was punctured was exquisite. 

With her chest covered with ruptures, Carol was nearly thrown over the edge, Wanda holding her back so she could spend her last few moments facing harrowing pain. 

“That’s beautiful. I like how red it is,” Natasha pointed out as she licked her lips, noting exactly how her partner danced the knife on Carol’s throat – not too deep or shallow. “Is she in pain? How can you tell if this hurts more than what I was doing?”

“You didn’t take your time, sweetheart. You need to go slow, let them feel every single second of it. The poor thing can barely breathe, let alone call out for help. You did good there, but you can’t let yourself get carried away like that. Give your pets special care. Have some fun with them,” Wanda explained as she drew copious bouts of blood from Carol’s neck, the woman losing consciousness as her eyelids grew heavier with the stench of death surrounding the four walls. “The red treat is really yummy too, but not hers. This one is tainted, she hurt our prized possession. That’s why she has to pay. Anyone who keeps us away from our angel needs to suffer the consequences. When we get to Y/N you can taste her. Maybe I’ll even let you take the lead once you’ve had more training. Would you like that, daddy?”

“Yes,” Natasha was breathless with excitement. “Yes, mommy.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

With the end of school looming over, you spent your days crawling across the woodboards of the house. Since the unfaithful day where you had to first hand experience the shame of waltzing around the packed hallways wallowing in your own grief, you hadn’t left the safety of the four walls of your bedroom unless it was to go outdoors for a few minutes, gathering food, and simply returning to your cave. 

A handful of your other friends had visited. Steve brought flowers and your favorite dessert, Bucky by his side offering a sympathetic smile while handing you a bag filled to the brim with only your favorite foods, movies, fuzzy socks, and even a stuffed animal. Little by little, they trinkled by, but as time kept moving forth, they left you behind. 

Thor’s funeral was the only chance you gave yourself to escape the house. Throughout the somber ordeal at the town’s sole cemetery you gripped Jane’s hand, remaining unfazed as she sobbed against your shoulder. ‘Bring him back’, she repeated, the mantra stuck in your mind for sleepless days, arms wrapped around a goat stuffed animal Thor had once won for you at a carnival. The pain which his girlfriend felt, the misery embodied by her pleas and cries over his casket, was an exemplary manner in which the two of you were joined by the hip. 

Even afterwards the two of you strode aimlessly around the area, Jane attempting to let out incoherent words of sadness through choked cries, you didn’t have an ounce of emotions that barreled down what you concluded was a cold heart. You didn’t dare cry at the funeral, the rain allowing you to camouflage beneath its wetness and remain hidden in shame. Tears had already dried up when Kate disappeared. You only wished Thor could forgive you for the lack of sentiment that you displayed. 

Then yet again it was time to return home to your depressed, ragged, unconscious state. 

You parents had long given up on so little as attempting to interact with you. They didn’t have to spew their venomous words for you to realize that being by your side drained them. The agony which you were in was humorous to them. Late nights you find yourself hearing them chat from down the hall in their rooms, mumbling about how you’d be better off moving away, how they were the ones to suffer at the loss of their daughter, not you when never so much as being allowed to say goodbye to your loved ones. 

Rather than incite an argument which would not easily culminate, you hid out in your bedroom until the day they set off on their vacation. You were old enough to be alone, and yet you knew that according to Carol it was best to be surrounded with support – the thought of the woman made you frown momentarily, rummaging through the hot mess that had been your last appointment. Oh how you wished she’d answer your texts apologizing for your outburst with the hopes of scheduling another session. Radio silence was your best friend. 

In the moment your parents went away, you merely hugged them goodbye. Without their judgemental gazes you allowed yourself to further grow, to explore areas of the house you had barely set foot on during the lowest moments of your life. Truth be told most of your hours were spent on the terrace watching mother nature’s cool dance welcoming the summer – Kate’s favorite season. 

When nightfall overtook the town of Westview you sprawled yourself over the bed. The lack of parental guidance gave you the motivation to take everything at your own pace, to sparse out the food through the day, but still make an effort to keep yourself alive. If only your parents didn’t wish to shove a plate of food down your throat every waking moment then perhaps your mind wouldn’t refuse the slightest bit of pasta curated for yourself. 

It was a shame, really. Not taking care of yourself only left room for someone to swoop in and do it for you. With a peculiar redhead and a lanky brunette sitting in a heating car outside your home, they volunteered to take the vacant position.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Shhh you have to be quiet, baby. Otherwise you’ll wake up mommy and then I’ll have to punish you. Do you want that, sweet one? Oh I don’t think you do. You’re a good girl. I know you can behave for mommy and daddy.”

Stuck in your dreams, the imagined soothing voice of Wanda Maximoff brought you peace. You hummed at it, snuggling closer to your stuffed animal, your guardian, as you pretended for it to be her. She’d be the sole saving grace of your livelihood regardless of the interesting choice of words spewed your way. 

“Pretty girl. Just look at how fucking pathetic she looks. Can we start now, mommy?” At the sound of Natasha’s voice, you frowned. The tenderness within it was not lost in you. “I want to destroy her, to take every single ounce of life she has left and make it my own. When can we take her away?”

“Silence, malyshka. We have to be patient with our angel. She’ll come to us when she’s ready. For now we just have some fun, perhaps train her a bit,” as serene as the words were spoken, the devilish nature that lay beneath was a cause for panic. In all your nightmares you had been feasted with images of an onyx creature with a ghostly mask, but never your classmates. It almost felt…real. “Would you like to start?”

Burning hands crossed your body, pulling down the sheets hiding it along with your pajamas. Within the clarity that you face, a groan came. Eyes fluttered across the dark room as you were groped, hips squeezed when a phantom creature danced against you. A bulge settled between your legs, mocking your existence with a different set of gloved hands that wrapped around your throat. 

When meeting the two figures upon your bed, breaking the illusion of a dream, you screamed – yet no sound came from your taped mouth. 

Your trunks were torn apart, a humiliating wet patch forming upon your underwear that was mocked with insistent laughter. The two ghost-like beasts pulled at it, nearly ripping it off as their pleased noises filled the frightening air. 

“Fill her up, sweetheart.” Wanda’s familiar voice instructed, her face, you noticed, covered with the same sinister mask you had once dreamed of. “Show her who she belongs to. After all we’ve done, don’t you think it’s time to have a little reward? Be a good girl and destroy our pet, daddy.”

“Yes, mommy.”

Natasha followed the steps she had rehearsed many times when using Wanda as a guiding proxy. She helped her robes up, plucking the zipper of her pants that lay beneath and swooping them down. A rather large, girthy dildo sprung from the confines of its makeshift prison. It was jerked off by a rather flushed Natasha whose face contorted into a desperate one. 

As an audience member Wanda sat back and enjoyed the way her perfectly trained animal rubbed your cunt, all slick and drenching itself more by the second. She ignored your muffled pleas and squirms, using sturdy cuffs to restrain you against the headboard of the bed. You looked much better all tied up anyway. 

Wanda found herself enthralled by the fear in your eyes, her own downcast, dark, and dripping with delight. Tenderness touched your wet cheek that was overtaken by tears. Although you couldn’t see her face, the sympathy displayed through the Ghostface mask caused your heart to slow down, to normalize as she overcame you.

“Look at you. You’re nothing but a filthy whore who is begging to be fucked. That’s what I told Wanda the first time we talked about you. She laughed, but it’s true. This desperate puffy pussy is proof of that,” Natasha growled as she swiped a thumb across your slit, coating it with your juices before swirling it against your cunt. Involuntarily your body shuddered; the redhead would never let you live that down. “How many times did you fantasize about this, huh? For mommy and daddy to claim this slutty body once and for all? You’re so pathetic. I’m barely touching you and your little cunt is already this wet. How cute.”

“Oh I want a go at her once you’re done, malyshka,” Wanda hummed, one of her hands landing atop Natasha’s to feel your oozing apex. “For now I think I’ll stick to marking her. Our names deserve to be on our property, don’t you think?”

“Ours.”

Fire trickled across your skin as the tip of the dildo was rubbed against your throbbing cunt. Natasha was desperate to fill you up, so rather than keep her needs at bay basking on foreplay, she simply grunted, slapping her cock against your clit before lining it up against your aching hole. 

No matter how hard you tried to moan, it was all for nothing. 

A knife was produced from Wanda’s belt swiftly as the way they slipped into your room at night. She sat back watching in awe as her partner pumped her entire cock into your depths, grabbing you harshly until the whole length filled your pussy. Tilting her head, a tongue stuck out to lick her lips. It was far too late to dare remove the tape without alerting the neighbors and potentially being caught – not to mention Natasha’s demeanor would turn sour and her hands would quickly wrap themselves around your neck until your breathing ceased – but oh she knew you’d be so loud for them. 

The cool blade of the knife felt wonderful against you. It was hesitant at first, exploring the expanse of your body as you, lying in wait, taking in a deep breath. Nostrils were fueled by pure hypnotic rage. All but your mind gave into Wanda. She was intoxicating, a true image of beauty even covered from head to toe with onyx garments. 

Numerous cuts were left upon your body by a blade that resembled those which were twisted upon Thor’s chest, the ones that were later compared to the wounds Dr. Danvers carried on her mutilated body only days after she had brutally murdered, her body thrown across an alley with nothing, not even her dignity, left the cover the humiliation. 

“That’s it, you little whore. Take daddy’s cock just like that. Oh you’re nothing but a good fleshlight, huh?” Natasha spewed out, slapping a gloved hand across your face before smirking beneath her mask – an action you practically heard in her tone. “You like it when daddy stuffs your tight pussy with her cock? Huh? A cumrag just for us. I can’t wait until you finally give in. we’re going to ruin this slutty pussy for everyone.”

“Maybe we can fill her up with your pups one day, daddy,” Wanda piped up as she maniacally cut your body. You were adorned with bloody carvings of varying sizes, one of those being a heart with the words ‘Mommy & Daddy’s Pet’ alongside ‘Wanda & Nat were here <3’ right beneath the breasts which she groped. “Do you want to have your daddy’s babies, sweetheart?” The lack of hardness within her voice drove you mad. All you could do was nod, a mind completely blank with the way Natasha fucked you. “Yeah? There’s a good girl. So good for her mommy and daddy. Oh we’ll take such good care of you. Now no one can take you away from us. It’s just us against the world.”

It was the first time you happily felt anything in months.

Bloody breasts were squeezed, Wanda quivering with excitement as she encouraged Natasha to keep going. The innocent stench of your scarlet fluid took the brunette aback. She was drunk in it, desperately wishing to tug at her mask to get a taste. Instead she settled for playing with it, although the gloves preventing the feel of your blood disappointed her. One day she’d drain every last drop within you to manically explore your body. 

With a lazy thumb running against your clit, Natasha’s cock stuffing your cunt until you were a sobbing mess, and Wanda’s cheers as she maimed you, you easily give yourself in for the women to take, arching your back and letting out a choked moan once you came undone. And yet that never stopped them. If anything, your admirers had only begun. 

Both spent hours merely using your body as though it was another limp mess for them to dispose of, a fleshlight ready to please them. They switched positions eventually, Natasha angling herself perfectly so as to shove her strap on down your throat once taking off the tape to keep you quiet, your juices coating her cock that you tasted, while Wanda gave your gaping cunt the same treatment with her fingers once removing her gloves. Regardless of how long it had passed and how spent you were, you didn’t dare force them to leave. 

Their visceral need to own every ounce, every breath, every fiber of your soul drove them to claim you. Watching you from afar, taking pictures, settling for others or each other to hide the itch for you was torturous enough. It was about time they got your attention once and for all that didn’t come from Natasha annoying you constantly to get a reaction, or Wanda sweetly interacting with her soon-to-be pet as a means to hold even an ounce of you. 

Once you were barely conscious, heavy eyelids threatening to close as you gargled over Natasha’s dick, it all came to an end. 

“Such a good girl,” Wanda mumbled, a hand caressing your face, thumb brushing against a cheek. Although the mask remained intact, you heard her fiery features temper down. “Y/N, you’re a perfect pet just like I thought you’d be.”

“Hmm just look at that. You’re already tainted,” Natasha pointed out as she ran a hand against your nude, fileted body. The bed was a mess, blood drying out among the sheets, your being stuck frozen without a sound coming past your lips. All you did was grunt, throat hoarse and exhaustion overtaking you. With a proud smile, both women were pleased with how far they broke you. “Should we give her the surprise, mommy?”

“The poor thing deserves it. Look at how much she’s been through. Oh don’t worry, sweetness, mommy will nurse you back to perfect health. Then in a few days we can put even more pretty scars on your body,” Wanda giddily announced. Cupping your face, she leaned in dangerously close until her mask brushed against your fallen face. “We have a little friend here who’s been dying to play with you. Be a good girl and say hi.”

From the shadows a third figure arose. It carried the same mask as the others, its waltz slow to the tempo of the swirling air felt through the crack of your window. It simply remained standing at the foot of your bed, a hand waving you a greeting, excitement fueling deep beneath the face covering. 

Upon the removal of the mask, your tired eyes widened, Natasha and Wanda having to hold you down from moving with devilish mocking looks upon their faces. 

“Hi Y/N.” The voice was once you dearly longed to hear again. “Did you miss me?”

[faeriichaii]

hi!! i’ve never requested smth before but your writing is so good im gonna give it a shot💫 could i request a legolas x human reader where she somehow accidentally touches his pointy ears not knowing that they’re sensitive for elves and legolas asks her to keep doing it (fluff/like half smut more like teasing maybe?) and legolas is just this soft baby who begs her for her touch 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Sensitive ~ Legolas x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! You're like so sweet <33 Oh that sounds very interesting 🤭 I like the idea!! I think I once read like one with a bunch of the elves where the reader accidentally touches their ears and like!! So I hope you enjoy the story <33 (and ngl I was so close to turn it into a smut rip)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff, lil bit smut (if you squint your eyes) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 875 ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Aini Nin ~ My Angel ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Gi Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You knew that Legolas could endure quite a lot, but what you did not expect is his reaction to touching his pointy ears

You loved keeping watch during the night. Everything seemed so calm and quiet and it was the only time of the day where you really get the chance to be by yourself. Where you get the chance to think about everything that happened so far and everything that still has to come. Sometimes Legolas joins you during your watch times. These were your favourite moments with him. You always have the most wonderful talks and share your thoughts with each other.

Being alone with him fills you up with joy and warmth. One could almost say you get drunk by his intoxicating charm that he shares specifically with you. Both of you were once more sitting on the logs, around a fire that has been put out for quite some time now, talking about the future ahead. “Do you think your father will like me?” You suddenly asked him, using a stick to draw a heart onto the dirt beneath you. “There is no way he could not. He will adore you as much as I do Aini Nin.”

A bashful smile graced your lips, as you wrote your initial, as well as his into the heart. “I can’t wait to meet your hometown my love. And your father. I want to see everything and get to know all about Mirkwood.” Looking up at him, you caught him already staring at you. His eyes were shining with love and care for you. “And I wish to visit your hometown. Learn all about your family and the customs you share.”

His arm snaked around your waist, in order to pull you into his warm side. Dropping the stick you used for your small drawing, you leaned into him. “Do you think we should take Gimli with us?” A laugh escaped Legolas lips at the thought of the dwarf running around the palace grounds. “I think that would either end up in multiple deaths or banishment on his side.” Chuckling at his response, you leaned your head onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I love you.” You said, gazing up at him lovingly. “Gi melin, Meleth Nin.” He gave you a soft kiss on the lips, which you immediately reciprocated. You still were looking at him, shining in the moonlight like an angel sent from heaven, as you noticed one of his braids getting loose. “Oh Legolas, can I re-braid your hair?” “Of course.” With that you stood up to take your place on his lap. His hands gently laid on your waist, as you undid his hairdo.

“I wish I had soft hair like you do.” You said, brushing your fingers through his white strands. “Your hair is already perfect as it is Aini Nin.” He softly whispered, as he leaned into your touch. A gentle smile graced your lips. Quickly giving him a loving kiss on his temple, you resumed your work on his hair. Parting the strand into a few sections, you began to weave your fingers through them. The quietness of the forest was interrupted, as Legolas let out a hitched breath. You raised an eyebrow at the sound that escaped him but continued to braid his hair.

His hands tightened around your hips, as your fingers accidentally brushed against his ear. You noticed that his ears slowly gained a red colour by the tips. A smirk played on your lips, as you let your hand brush against his pointy ear once more. Legolas let out another shaky sigh. “Are you alright my love?” You asked him, playfulness evident in your words. “Yes, it’s just… my ears. They are sensitive.” A little giggle left your lips, as you abandoned the braid and instead focused on his ear. You gently let your fingers trail along the pointy form. The elf underneath you let out a soft whine at your touch, slightly leaning into your hand.

His breathing got ragged, hips also moving up into you while pressing you down on him. “Should I stop Meleth Nin?” You innocently asked, playing with the tip of his ear. “No, please. Don’t stop.” A whine followed his words, as you put your other hand around his other ear, massaging both of them equally. Warmth spread through your body at the sounds that escaped your lover underneath you. The elven prince tried his best to keep as subtle and quiet as possible, in order to not wake up the others around you. “Do you love it when I play with your beautiful elven ears?” “Yes.” His breathy answer was muffled, as he hid his face in your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He whispered, giving you a gentle kiss on the exposed skin. Legolas cheeks were rosy and so were your own. You knew that elves could endure quite a lot, but you did not expect them to have wobbly knees after just a touch to the ears.

Suddenly you stopped your little ministration, making the prince underneath you whine sadly. “I am sorry my love, but you don’t want to wake the others now, do you?” You said, smirking slightly at his flustered expression. His hands tightened around your waist, as he brought you closer. His warm breath hit your ear. “You are going to regret this.”

[1980shorrorfilm]

hopelessly devoted to you

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…a certain someone remembers your birthday.

before you read…fluff. angst. cutie patootie ellie <3

it was a grueling day. the sky dim from the consistent storming, the rain damping your body and hair, up until you and jesse had taken cover at a moldy gas station. you sat there for an hour, listening to him talk about dina and their separation…their tenth separation? you lost track a while ago.

but you don’t judge, you hummed in agreement to his frustrations and nodded the entire time. you get him, you do. your failed love life could be a ten-minute-long monologue, you think. relationships are hard in the small community of jackson, everyone has their person or keeps to themselves. you prefer to keep to yourself. you don’t necessarily need anyone— not if you can’t have her.

infected that were migrating through had run you out of the gas station, you and jesse dodging branches and heavy rocks throughout the forest as you ran back home. you, of course, tripped over a dead stump and banged your head on nature's floor.

if you were jesse you would have laughed at yourself, but your generous friend could only watch in horror, worry painting his features while he helped you up, practically dragging your stumbling self until you were in the clearing.

every single muscle in your body was aching when you arrived at jackson’s gates, it felt like seeing the gates of heaven itself. you don’t know what time it is, the sky has been dark the entirety of the day, and your head is pounding.

“we should get you to the infirmary, just in case,” jesse tries, however, you are ready to call it a night and worry about your current issues tomorrow. probably a bad idea, sure, but you don’t care that much in the worn out state you’re in. “i’m fine, jesse,” you lie to the man, but the smile you give him is enough for him to back off, “just need a bandage and a very comfortable bed. not one of those cots.”

“you’re stubborn…ellie’s rubbing off on you.”

“shut up,” you jokingly tell him, chewing your bottom lip as your mind goes to ellie. the idea of seeing her sweet face after the day you just had would provide you more comfort than the bed you so desperately yearn for.

to hear her voice, telling you about the day she had, that you know for certain was miles better than yours. and that’s amazing— ellie williams doesn’t deserve a hard day in her life. you would take all of them for her, even if each one felt as cruel as today.

jesse walks you all the way home, an illuminating glow coming from your windows, despite turning the lights off before you had left. or at least, you had thought you did. you say goodbye to jesse, having to promise you will take care of your injury before bed so he would leave.

you open your door with a deep sigh of relief, eager to shred your backpack and soggy clothes, and slip into something comfortable.

you drag your feet down the hall, stopping in place when your shut bedroom door, swings open before you.

“fuck.”

“ellie?” your brows dip, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at the surprise, “what are you doing?”

“i, uh, well,” she scratches the back of her neck, turning around, waiting for you to follow her into your bedroom. you do, mind drifting to the thought of how unkept you left it earlier, not having time to deal with the laundry at the end of your unmade bed. ellie had seen that; you’re embarrassed.

you gulp, stepping inside the room, and the sight you’re met with confuses you. your bed is made. your clothes are gone. instead, there’s a beige teddy bear, one that’s unfamiliar to you, that’s never been in your room before. it’s undeniably cute, even with its left ear ripped and its eye poorly patched back on.

laid against its belly is a large and flat square object wrapped in old newspapers, tiny pieces of duct tape holding it together. where a classic and beautiful ribbon would be, are shoelaces, making a bow. or an attempt at one.

and laid against that, is what appears to be a doodled on piece of paper. you glance at ellie, then your bed, then ellie.

“i…” she begins, the soft expression on her face suddenly hardening when her eyes trail to the single droplet of blood falling from your temple, and down the side of your face.

“what the fuck happened?” ellie takes a few short steps towards you, grabbing your face with her coarse hands, and turning you so she can inspect the area. even when you try to turn your head, she keeps you still.

“gonna tell maria to pair us. i love jesse but—”

“i tripped, ellie, it couldn’t have been prevented,” you cut her off, but her suggestion does make your heart flutter, and you wouldn’t be opposed to it. you’d spend every last second you have in this universe with her.

“you don’t know that,” ellie says, the woman thinking she could do anything to protect you— even simple mistakes you cause yourself. she exits the room for a moment, and you can’t help but walk to the foot of your bed to get a closer look at the objects on it.

you pick up the paper, realizing it’s not just a piece of paper, it’s a card. a makeshift one. and the doodles aren’t just doodles, it’s a dinosaur holding three balloons. three of your favorite colors. happy birthday, it says. birthday…your birthday…it’s your birthday.

it had not crossed your mind once today, this week, or this month. you only thought about it a couple of months back when it was briefly brought up in a conversation. how the community you were born into utilized calendars even if there was nothing to look forward to anymore, and how you almost wish you weren’t informed on the day you were born. there was nothing to celebrate, no one to celebrate with.

ellie was determined to change that, and she did.

you open the card, a paragraph in the center of the paper.

hey y/n, guess what day it is :) if you couldn’t tell by the extremely beautiful dinosaur in a party hat, it’s your day!! happy fucking birthday, y/n. probably doesn’t feel like much of a celebration today. little do you know i celebrate you everyday. don’t tell anyone that. i honestly think i’d die without you so never leave me, yeah? i love you y/n. i could take up this whole page telling you every little thing i love about you but i’m not going to do that because i don't think i could stop. i hope you had a good birthday. if not i hope this helps. love, your ellie.

“sit down,” ellie reenters the room, not noticing the card in your hand, too focused on the medical supplies in hers. when she does, her face heats up, her pale face flashing red. you continue to hold it as you obey her, sitting next to the teddy bear. she waits for you to speak first, and you do the same to her, which causes a moment of silence as she kneels on the floor before you.

you’re taken back, utterly shocked by how fucking precious the girl could be, how good it feels receiving appreciation from her. getting love from her. not the love you have for jesse or dina, something different, something incomparable. she has your heart clutched tightly in her fist.

“thank you, ellie.”

“it’s nothing,” she shrugs, pouring a bottle of water on a bathroom towel, then bringing it to your face. she’s gentle as she wipes the dark red liquid away, dabbing the injury, scanning your face for discomfort so she can stop immediately. she’s definitely going to yell at jesse.

“it’s something,” you tell her, “and it means a lot to me…it really does.”

she halts her movements for a second, the embarrassment that maybe she did too much, vanishing from her body. “yeah?”

“duh,” you laugh slightly, “i didn’t even remember it, ellie. i was too busy having a shitty day. so thank you for making it better.”

ellie smiles slightly, holding back the grin threatening to spread across her face. she continues to clean your injury, knowing she could scold you for not seeking medical attention right away, but she won’t ruin the moment.

she finishes up by placing a clean bandage over the wound, pressing it delicately against your skin, an odd urge to place a kiss on your forehead to signal she was done. she thinks it’s weird, and doesn’t do it.

ellie reaches for the newspaper-wrapped object beside you, taking the card from your hands and replacing it with the gift. “open it.”

“you didn’t have to—” “open it.”

you groan, doing as told, fighting the annoying strong duct tape and peeling the paper off carefully, not knowing what’s beneath it. ellie keeps her green irises steady on your face as you do so, watching your mouth part faintly when you see the uncovered gift. “ellie…”

it’s a vinyl. an old one. one you’d listen to on a cassette tape until it deteriorated, and you had lost access to the heavenly vocals of the band you so greatly adored. ellie’s not familiar with them, but she had told you she would like to be after how highly you had spoken about them.

she hadn’t forgotten that conversation, or that band, and excused herself on patrol to seek out the damn vinyl in every music shop. she didn’t know it would be so hard, but even if she did, she would search again and again and again. it’s not only a gift, it is a reflection of ellie’s admiration of you.

“how— why— i don’t even have a record player,” you point out, eyebrows dipping slightly at the harsh reminder. “so?” she asks like you just said the silliest thing in the world. “i do…we can listen to it together.”

it’s then that you notice her hand on your knee, thumb grazing through the denim of your jeans in a repeated motion. you forget about the throbbing in your head, and you no longer care about the soreness of your body. that, along with the entire world, seems to fade away right now.

it’s not just your heart in her hands. it’s you, your mind, your soul, everything you have is in her palms. everything she tells you makes you feel weightless, like time pauses and you don’t have to worry about a single thing. just her. nothing else. just ellie. no one else.

“i love you.”

ellie smiles, “love you too.”

“no, ellie, i…” you hesitate, sucking in the air and then exhaling. your eyes are on the birthday card next to you, the vinyl in your hands, and then her widened pupils. you realize then, that you don’t need to repeat yourself, you don’t need to emphasize it. ellie gets it. your hands are trembling, and she holds them. but something is wrong.

the moment stretches on endlessly, watching a shadow of sadness flicker over her beautiful features. without her saying a word, that she has yet to do, you understand. she won’t say it back. not in the sense that you wish for her to.

“i…dina came to me…after her and jesse…she…” ellie’s quiet voice drifts off, sparing you the details of the night dina first showed up at her door, a repeated pattern until they finally shared an intimate moment that led to a short-lived kiss.

something you missed, because you weren’t searching for hints they had something. something you crave. her head is down, “i’m sorry.”

your confession now hangs heavy over both of you. you feel sick. you feel dumb. and yet, you force a small, understanding smile. “it’s okay.”

the words feel hollow. ellie feels like shit. she’s never cried in front of you, and she’s fighting back the tears that so desperately want to fall right now. she hadn’t meant for this to happen. she hadn’t met to fall in love with her best friend, all while her other friend was falling for her.

she could’ve waited— she would’ve waited. but it happened so fast, and ellie had made a decision already.

“i’m um…really tired,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension, but it somehow makes it worse.

“y/n—” “do you mind if we call it a night?”

“you hit your head pretty bad,” ellie says, the sorrow tone of her voice now mixing with worry, “you should stay up.”

“you’re not my doctor, ellie,” you immediately catch the snappy tone you give her the moment the sentence leaves your mouth, biting your tongue in response. ellie doesn’t point it out nor make an argument out of it. she is the most understanding with you. even if the context is her simply looking out for you. you fold in your lips, still holding the gift, ellie finally standing up.

she doesn’t know what to say. at all. she could say sorry a million times but eventually they will mean nothing to you. she doesn’t even know if they do now. “i uh…i’ll leave you alone.”

the worst words you could ever hear from the person you love the most in the world. of course, part of you wants her out of sight after the humiliation you just walked yourself into, but the other part of you wants to go with her, play the vinyl she had gifted you, and lay together in her bed as her finger taps in rhythm to the music on your thigh. but you can’t do that. not when her bed is reserved for someone else.

you barely nod, “okay.”

she gulps, hesitantly walking to your bedroom door, the one she was so happy to walk into just an hour prior. there’s guilt in each step she takes, her cheeks hot and mouth dry. she stops in your doorway, tugging at her bottom lip with her sharp teeth, glancing back at you.

whatever she was prepared to say, dies on her tongue, swallowing it down and opting for something else.

“happy birthday, y/n.”

then she’s gone. and you’re left alone with a teddy bear; a permanent reminder of this night. happy birthday to you.

[shadowkoo]

disgraceful dreams

→ Summary: After two years of lustful pining and disgraceful dreams about someone far out of your reach, you decide the only way to move past your hopeless crush on Onyx Academy's star student is by taking part in the Lupercalia festival for the very first time.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader (feat. yeosang) | 16.4k words | 18+ ↠ genre: witch/warlock au, smut, virgin!reader, inspired by s2e3 of caos, slowburn

→ Full Fic Warnings: little bit of social class discrimination, cult-ish behavior (mentions of blood, Y/N uses a knife to cut her hand for binding/ritual purposes), being ‘hunted’ like prey, explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, biting, nipple play, breast play, begging, fingering, mutual masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, partial agoraphilia & semi-public sex, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, deep dicking, size kink (wooyoung is HUNGGG), magical sex, fucking up against a tree, slight age gap (y/n is 20 and wooyoung is 25), slight corruption, choking, possessive!wooyoung, woo is ravenous for you (you’re welcome)

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @pirateeznet @cromernet

@illusionnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @cultofdionysusnet

→ Author Note: edited by the lovely aeris @beomcoups whom i appreciate so SO much for tackling this beast of a fic ILY! And also to ally @lovetaroandtaemin for reading this over for me!!! this doesn’t follow the exact lupercalia process, i’ve twisted it to work for my fic and based it around halloween instead of valenbarf day lol, if you'd prefer to read on ao3, it's been crossposted here!! all likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated <3

‘This can’t be real.’

Jung Wooyoung casts a dark look upon you while taking in your ethereal, naked form before him. The flames of the common room’s fireplace dance in his eyes, reflecting his sinister and most impure thoughts. Thoughts of you, what he wants to do to you. With you.

‘I must be dreaming.’

He circles around you, hovering over your backside and letting his hands fall to your bare hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

“Mmm, can I touch you?” Wooyoung whispers as he leans in to kiss the dip between your shoulder and neck.

You nod, giving him permission to do whatever he pleases, and lean back against his broad chest.

His hands move from your side, one moving upward to cup your breast, the other heading down between your legs, gently tracing your silky skin until his fingers find their way home and sink into your sweet center.

The sensation awakens you from your sinful slumber, and you sigh, realizing it was only a dream—another delicious and depriving dream that left you wanting someone who would never consider you.

Groaning, you force yourself to roll out of bed and step toward your closet. Black Mass isn’t for another hour, but arriving early might help erase these recurring dreams from your memory.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hall as you exit the residential wing, making your way outside. It’s a beautiful gloomy day, the air is crisp and the sun is hidden by thick clouds that look as if they could open up at any moment and soak the woods with another harsh day of rain - something you wouldn’t mind.

The fog creeps through the forest, following your steps and trailing behind while you wait for your familiar to catch up. Besides your raven’s distant cry, it’s quiet. The hum of the earth’s magic is even more reserved than usual. It’s peacefully eerie.

“Ghoul Morning, Blair,” you say, extending your wrist out for her. She caws from above and slowly descends from the clouds, eagerly accepting your arm as the safe place to perch while you walk along the path to the Unholy Church.

Though she looks like a raven while masked, Blair wreaks havoc in her goblin form on anyone, and anything, that dares to disturb you. She’s one of the strongest familiars a witch could be cursed with, and you’ve been thankful for her services ever since you started training.

It’s your second year attending The Onyx Academy of Dark Casting, a magical finishing school that only the finest witches and warlocks between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five are given the unholiest privilege to attend.

Of these students, the Dark Stars of each class lead with their high values and spectacular spell casting. More often than not, they graduate with the highest dishonor and ascend to become High Priests and Priestesses of covens across the world.

Jung Wooyoung is a beloved Dark Star and stellar student, and it’s rumored that he’ll become the youngest Anti-Pope inducted into the Church of Night after his completion here at the academy.

Even with your unique gift, it’s not in the cards for a person of your status to ever equal his. Which you very well know and understand, despite the dark fantasies that haunt you most nights and your schoolgirl crush that hasn’t gone away since the very first day you met him.

Blair lets out a sharp caw, her wings cutting through the air as she ascends, perching gracefully on the steeple just as you arrive at the church. Her dark silhouette stands stark against the sky, watching over you like a silent sentinel.

The towering doors creak open as you approach them, welcoming you inside the dim space. You walk between the rows of pews, watching the candles that mark the aisle light up as you pass.

Once closer to the altar, you lift a hand and wave it across the front of the sanctuary. The room becomes brighter as the remaining unlit candles grow flames from your magic.

You have a way with the elements; you’re able to manipulate and control them as you wish without specific spells, conjuring them when you please. Your energy is unmatched compared to the other gifted students.

Yet, instead of improving your social status, being gifted has made you even more of an outcast. The professors are wary of your potential and what you could be capable of; the students keep their distance too, either jealous or frightened of your power.

Needless to say, you’re not Miss Popular, but that doesn’t bother you as much as it could. Only the luckiest of witches and warlocks are disgraced with gifts from the Dark Lord, and having chosen you out of everyone means something. And knowing the Dark Lord chose you is enough.

You settle into your usual pew, the familiar creak of the wooden bench under you blending into the background as your mind begins to churn. Thoughts swirl of today’s impending announcement during Father Blackmoor’s sermon cross your mind.

The excitement for Lupercalia is beginning to build. This ancient festival, celebrated by all magic wielders the week leading up to Halloween, is dedicated to the Goddess Peralia, who blesses covens with enhanced health, virility, and fertility in exchange for an indelicate offering. Participants must engage in a series of ritualistic events celebrating lust and sexuality, transforming the festival into a vibrant expression of desire and intimacy. Only then will she offer her unholiest blessing.

You sit there, not in prayer, but in a quiet storm of contemplation, unsure if you will sign up for the festival this year. Another downfall to being viewed as an outsider is that you have yet to experience, well, anything. Sure, you might have kissed a couple of warlocks in your intermediate years, you even had a boyfriend in prep school whom you were convinced you could have loved eventually, but your virtue has yet to be given away.

It’s common for witches and warlocks to lose their virginity during Lupercalia; typically when they are in prep school. In fact, it’s encouraged. Yet, by age twenty, you still haven't mustered the courage to join in the festivities.

This year might be different…

The sudden crash of books jolts you from your thoughts. You turn to see Yeosang, a fellow student, crouched beside a toppled stack of The Book of Blood, its pages splayed open.

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he scrambles to gather the scattered volumes. His cheeks flush slightly, and you can't help but smile softly.

He’s a sixth-year student, just like Wooyoung. Yet, where Wooyoung’s presence demands your attention with an almost suffocating charisma, Yeosang embodies a more reserved demeanor. He tends to stick to his tight-knit group of friends and immerses himself in his studies, radiating a quiet intensity that draws you in without overwhelming you.

You feel a wave of annoyance wash over you as soon you realize that even in the presence of another man, your thoughts keep drifting back to Wooyoung. It frustrates you to no end, pushing you to a spontaneous decision: this year will finally be the year you break free from this obsession. By participating in Lupercalia, you’re determined to finally move on from him once and for all.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “The Dark Lord has already provided me with the clarity I came here for.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, carefully restacking the last book. He glances to his left, likely considering the seat he usually occupies, before turning back to you. “Would you mind if I joined you?” he asks, a hopeful note in his voice as he gestures toward the space beside you.

“Not at all, please do,” you smile.

He settles beside you with an effortless grace, and the air around you immediately fills with the warm, intoxicating blend of amber and musk from his cologne. The scent is rich, almost magnetic, pulling your attention in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You fidget with your hands, trying to focus on anything but how good he smells, as your mind races to keep pace with your quickening heartbeat.

Maybe... you could partner with Yeosang for the festival. The thought lingers as you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s undeniably handsome—sharp features that give him a striking, confident look, but it’s his kindness that really stands out. There’s a warmth in the way he carries himself, a subtle softness behind those strong eyes that makes him more than just attractive. You wonder what it would be like to lose your virginity to someone like him, someone who seems both strong and thoughtful in all the right ways.

"Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little tense," he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern as his eyes search your face. You hesitate to answer, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, and though you're trying to keep your composure, your breath has grown a little quicker, more shallow.

Thankfully, he’s kind enough not to mention it, but you catch the flicker of awareness in his gaze. His words are gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity there—like he's not just asking out of politeness but because he genuinely cares. You try to steady yourself, aware of the closeness between you, and suddenly the air feels heavier as if the moment itself is holding its breath, waiting for your next move.

"I didn’t mean to pry if it’s personal," he quickly adds, his voice softening as he notices your hesitation. His words have a touch of urgency, and he backtracks, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His shifts slightly, giving you space while still holding onto the moment, unsure whether to push further or retreat.

"Can I tell you a secret?" The words escape your lips before you even realize what you’ve said. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by your sudden vulnerability. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but there’s no turning back now.

Yeosang nods and softly says, “Of course.”

“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” you admit guardedly.

“Oh, um. That’s, uh…” He’s visibly taken aback when he hears your confession, stumbling over his words. “Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that.”

He shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, uh, that’s really something. I just, uh… I guess I never saw you as someone who hadn’t, you know, participated.” He draws out the last word, his tone heavy with the unspoken meaning.

You nod, trying to meet his eyes. “I know, it’s just… I never felt called to join in on the festivities in previous years. But lately, that feeling has… changed.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, I get it. So you’ll be signing up for the events this year?” He asks with a calm, collected voice, though he’s concerned that the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat betrays his calm facade.

Hearing your confession piques his interest. He’s always found you hauntingly beautiful and has enjoyed the casual conversations you’ve shared between classes and such, but today feels different.

He knew you didn’t actively participate last year, though he figured you were still doing something-someone-in private. Now that your secret is out, there's something undeniably more intriguing about you—an unexpected allure that wasn’t there before.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

“I think you should,” he blurts out, then quickly adds, “What I mean is, the festival’s about self-expression and the intimacy you share along the way. If you’re looking for a wild introduction to Lupercalia, there will be plenty of opportunists who share that venereal vision. But if you want something more comforting…choose someone who makes you feel safe and respected for your first time.” Yeosang trails off, his gaze lingering a little too long, the implication unmistakable. He clears his throat, trying not to give himself and his intentions away.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say while resting a hand above his knee, genuinely appreciating his insight.

Before the conversation can continue, the sound of footsteps echoes through the Church as fellow students file in, taking their seats. Black Mass is about to begin.

Wooyoung hadn’t intended to listen in on your conversation. He was too busy waiting for the other Dark Stars to arrive at the closed-off sanctuary to finish preparing for Black Mass. As usual, they didn’t show up early despite his suggestions. That’s a lie; he knew his words were less like suggestions and more like demands.

He was well aware they’d be late today, especially since most of the fifth and sixth years had spent the night at an intimate pre-Lupercalia party that stretched into dawn.

The only reason he peeked through the shadows was due to a loud crash, which he soon realized came from Yeosang, who appeared entranced by someone sitting near the front of the Church. That’s when he noticed it was you.

He’ll admit to having observed you over the past year—not out of personal interest, but because he’s intrigued by your unique gift and curious as to why the Dark Lord chose you of all people. Yes, you’re undeniably attractive as most witches are, but your ability to manipulate pure power without relying on spellwork is, to him, the most compelling quality you possess. If you had the right social standing, you would likely ascend to the role of High Priestess in a very fortunate coven.

From his hidden vantage point, he watches as his friend settles down beside you; that’s when the conversation begins.

“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” he hears you share your secret. Now that is quite a confession.

Wooyoung’s lips curl into a smirk as he observes your flushed face from a distance, the rosy hue contrasting with the cold room that surrounds you. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he takes in the way you shift nervously, completely unaware of his gaze.

Knowing that you haven’t been touched stirs a mix of amusement and curiosity within him. He wonders what thoughts are racing through your mind, feeling a strange sensation rush through him when you place your hand on his classmate’s thigh.

He saw no reason to hold back from participating. The moment he came of age, he dove in—and he’s done so every year since, always finding ways to revel in the experience to the fullest. As he reflects on past encounters, a pleased smile crosses his face as he silently counts the number of popped cherries he’s collected over the last several seasons, each a vivid memory weaved into his mind.

‘What’s one more…’

As more students trickle in and take their seats, the soft murmur of conversation fills the air. Wooyoung senses the moment is right and slips out of the shadows just as Father Blackmoor begins to walk down the aisle, weaving between the pews filled with eager faces. The flickering candlelight dances on the stone walls, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the coolness of the sanctuary.

He moves to stand on the left of Father Blackmoor, joining the other Dark Stars who are trying to stifle their yawns. The collective fatigue from the previous night’s festivities hangs in the air, but a shared excitement simmers beneath the surface. He exchanges brief glances with his fellow Stars, a silent acknowledgment of their late-night revelry and the anticipation of what today’s ceremony will bring.

“Fiends and Friends, today marks the beginning of our annual Lupercalia Festival,” Father Blackmoor announces, his voice resonating through the crammed Church. “As you all know, Lupercalia is upon us. I can feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The Festival of Wolves is a cherished tradition within our coven, and we take immense pride in honoring Goddess Peralia through a series of exhilarating rituals, all in hopes of receiving her unholiest blessings. With that in mind, let’s review the week’s events for those of you who are new to our practices.”

Father Blackmoor pauses to take an envelope from Wooyoung. “Tomorrow marks the start of the Assessment Period, which will be held in the Grand Hall. Witches who sign up today will be quizzed by prospective partners in hopes of finding their ideal match.”

“Courting begins on Tuesday. Those interested in a specific witch will reserve time slots to spend more time together. By the end of the night, the warlocks must submit the names of the witches they wish to be paired with. This will be followed by the Matching Ceremony on Wednesday, where the pairs will be revealed to the entire coven. On Thursday, we’ll have the Moon Ritual, during which the paired couples will venture into the darkwood to complete the rite. More specific details will be shared on the day, but they are expected to spend the night together beneath the moon in unholy abstinence.”

Some students snicker, knowing very well they won’t be abstaining from anything that night.

Father Blackmoor waits for the room to settle down before continuing, “Friday ushers in the Insatiable Hunt at dusk, where wolf-masked warlocks will chase after their red-cloaked witches through the woods, culminating in divine pleasure once they’ve been caught. We’ll conclude the week of festivities on Saturday with the Final Feast, where we will express our gratitude to Goddess Peralia for her many blessings this season.”

Wooyoung steps forward once more, this time carrying an ancient, leather-bound tome. The worn edges and faded lettering hint at its age and significance.

It’s the Book of Blood; which contains hundreds of Witches and Warlock's printed names, signed with their crimson ink, as a binding commitment to their word. It’s like a contract between yourself, the entire coven, and the Dark Lord himself.

With a practiced hand, he carefully cracks it open, his eyes sweeping across the room. “Witches that dare to participate, please step forward, say your intent, and sign your name in the Book of Blood.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to your feet, joining the line of participants ahead of you. A mix of excitement and nerves swirl in your stomach, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been both dreading and anticipating.

The weight of curious eyes fall on you as you move, but none more intense than Yeosang's. His gaze feels like a spotlight, cutting through the crowd around him.

With each passing second, your pulse quickens as the line inches forward at a deathly slow pace. Every breath feels shallow, as if the air is too thick for your lungs to handle. Despite the knot of nerves tightening in your belly, your feet move on their own, as if guided by some force beyond your control.

Before you even realize it, you’re standing before Wooyoung. His eyes pierce down onto you while he hands you a knife, “Do you hereby pledge your full participation and commitment to the forthcoming Lupercalia festival and all associated events?”

Taking a deep breath, you respond, “Yes, I pledge myself.”

You take the knife from him, feeling the cold steel as you press the sharp blade into your palm. With a swift motion, you slice a clean, precise line across your skin. Ruby-red blood wells up, pooling in your cupped hand. Without hesitation, Father Blackmoor raises his hand, his dark magic swirling in the air as he draws the blood from your palm. It twists and shapes into the form of a pen, glowing faintly with a sinister aura, ready to be used.

You reach up and grasp the hovering pen, its energy vibrating through your hand. As you sign your name in the book, a surge of adrenaline floods your veins, electrifying every nerve. The moment the ink dries, you feel an undeniable shift. Something deep within you has been awakened.

Wooyoung smirks, knowing the sensation very well. “There’s no backing out now,” he says to you, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.

“So,” Jongho, a second-year student like yourself, pauses to clear his throat after pulling on his tie, “That was awful.”

You chuckle, relieved to see you're not the only one with frayed nerves. “Yeah, good luck with the rest of them.”

He smiles back before shuffling along to the next person.

It’s Assessment Day, and every witch who signed their name is being rigorously questioned by the participating warlocks. Friends who had gone through this in previous years warned you about what to expect, and they were right. It’s definitely a forced mingling period on steroids.

It’s only been an hour, and you’re already exhausted of the routine of answering questions filled with probing and uncomfortable inquiries that delve into personal preferences. Over and over again, you're forced to confront touchy subjects, as if each question is designed to peel away the layers of your desires, as if you know.

The process feels more like an interrogation than a mere assessment, testing not just your patience, but your lack of knowledge on the subject at hand—sex.

The situation would be far less awkward if you didn't have to sit directly across from someone to verbally review the list. After each question, it’s mandatory to respond in one of the following ways: Agree - you give consent to the matter being discussed with the current party; Acknowledge - it is a potential option, and you give partial consent or Decline - no consent is given.

You pick at your fingernails while you wait for the next warlock.

“Penny dreadful for your thoughts?” You glance up to see Yeosang sliding into the seat across from you, with a broad smile spread across his handsome face.

“Oh, hi!” you say, doing your best to not sound startled. “Just wondering when all of this will be over, you know?” you continue, waving your arms around.

“Yeah, this part of the process isn’t the most comfortable. But I understand why it’s necessary,” he comments while leaning forward on the table. “Have the others been respectful?”

“Oh, yes. Yeah, everyone has been nice. I’m learning how many students I’ve never spoken to before,” you reply lightheartedly.

"Shall we begin?" Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eyes, nodding toward the paper resting between you on the table, waiting for your cue to dive in.

Just as he reaches to pick up the list of desires to discuss, his movement is halted by the sudden arrival of Wooyoung, whose presence instantly commands attention.

He strides up to your table with his usual confidence, a grin tugging at his lips. The conversation shifts before it even begins, as Wooyoung’s energy pulls both your attention toward him without saying a word.

Yeosang lowers the paper, his eyes flicking between you and Wooyoung, sensing the inevitable distraction.

“Father Blackmoor has requested your presence in the Anti-Sacristy,” Wooyoung announces, handing him a miniature scroll with a secret message.

Yeosang frowns while reading it over, “Please excuse me.”

"Of course, I hope everything's alright," you murmur, though your words go unheard as he's already on his feet, moving swiftly toward the door.

Watching Yeosang rush out, you suddenly realize Wooyoung is still standing there. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he tilts his head, studying you with a curious intensity.

"Seems like you require a partner," he says with a smirk, sliding effortlessly into Yeosang’s chair without missing a beat.

You’re too stunned to respond and shift uncomfortably in your seat, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. He’s not offering to go through the questionnaire, is he?

Somehow, you forgot that you would, at some point, have to converse with Wooyoung today. It entirely slipped your mind up until this moment. And now he’s here without giving you time to prepare. You start to breathe a little heavier, and a slight sense of panic sets in.

“Why are you acting like that?” He says with a raised eyebrow, noticing your bouncing leg (a nervous habit of yours that annoyingly shows up at the worst possible moments.)

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Well, yes, you do but you won’t admit that. But your hyperventilating and antsy body might tell a different story.

“Yeah, right,” he rolls his eyes.

Your eyes lock on Wooyoung’s as he casually picks up the page. Without waiting for your reaction, he glances at the list and reads off the first item, his voice smooth and confident.

"How does each party feel about blood play; drawing blood by use of knives or other sharp weaponry, smearing blood, using blood as a lubricant, and/or tasting blood?" he reads off, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waits for your response.

"I acknowledge," you reply with hesitation in your voice, uncertain whether you’re truly opposed to it, yet not entirely sure if you fully consent either. “And you?”

Wooyoung tilts his head again, “Do you really need to ask?”

"You and I both know there are specific rules to follow here," you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, eyes fixed on him with a mixture of challenge and caution. And, if you’re being completely honest, there’s a hint of annoyance now too. The nervousness from earlier has vanished entirely.

“Fair enough,” "he replies with a nonchalant sigh, “I agree.”

It’s your turn to read off the next item. “Does each participating student consent to bringing in other parties to join and/or watch your sexual relations? And additionally, joining others.” You look up toward Wooyoung, already expecting him to agree to those terms.

“Decline,” he states firmly, his voice dropping an octave as he adds, “I don’t share.”

You try to mask your shock, but the expression slips through.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I also decline.”

He nods curtly, and you swear you hear him mutter "good" under his breath.

You breeze through the next set of questions surprisingly fast, both providing the appropriate answers as you work your way down the page.

At first, Wooyoung seemed a bit disinterested, but something caused his attitude to shift. Now, he’s more engaged, genuinely listening to your reasonings whenever you offer it.

“Last question, how many sexual partners have each participating party had?”

As he finishes speaking, you narrow your eyes at him, “That question isn’t on the list.” You’ve practically memorized them all by now. “You’re making that up.”

“So? Answer anyway,” he dares.

You glare at him, silently debating whether or not you should tell the truth. “Screw it,” you exhale, “None.”

Instead of the shock or teasing you expect, he simply blinks at you, as if he already knew what your answer would be.

But how…

When you wake the next morning, butterflies are already fluttering in your stomach. At this point, it’s hard to judge who will end up courting you, though you have a pretty good idea that Yeosang is interested. When he returned after visiting Father Blackmoor, you two had quite a connection while going through the assessment list.

You’ll find out for sure when you make it to the Dining Hall the courting schedule will be pinned on the announcement board for everyone to view.

You decide to grab a pastry and wait for the crowd around the schedule to thin out before checking how many dates you will have today. To keep things relatively fair, each witch is only allowed to have up to five courting suitors. A flicker of nerves sets in—what if no one reserved one of your time slots?

For the love of Lucifer, please let me have at least one warlock courting me.

You shove the last bite into your mouth and make your way to the board, eager to find out. Peeking around the remaining heads blocking your view, you spot that two of your time slots have already been reserved. Just as you’re trying to make out the names, someone taps you on the shoulder.

“Ghoul morning, Y/N,” Yeosang says with a smile, handing you a card. Your heartbeat picks up, recognizing the formality; courting warlocks are required to provide the witches with a card that essentially confirms their date.

“Hi, Yeosang!” You beam. Praise Satan.

He looks relieved when you accept his card. “I was hoping to see you this morning. Meet me at the Weeping Willow at three o’clock this afternoon. I have a special activity planned for us.”

You’re about to respond when you can feel his presence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see Wooyoung standing closely behind. He towers over you, staring down Yeosang.

“Do you need something?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you while silently begging that he’s not here to send Yeosang away again, like yesterday.

“Yes,” he extends a hand, offering you a card. You stare at it in disbelief. He’s not here to steal Yeosang; he’s stealing you.

Wooyoung is your other suitor.

“I believe you’re meant to spend the morning with me.” Wooyoung’s eyes drift from yours and back to Yeosang’s, who tenses beside you. They seem to have a silent exchange of words.

“I see,” Yeosang says curtly, “Enjoy your time together.”

Before you have a chance to say anything Yeosang already disappears. Damn it.

“Come on, follow me,” Wooyoung demands while grabbing your wrist. He leads you down the dim, shadowy hallways of the school before picking up the pace as you leave the safety of the school, heading into the woods.

The thick trees close in around you, and the air feels heavier with each step. Fog swirls at your feet but mysteriously clears a path ahead of him like it knows exactly where he's going. You follow, feeling the cool, damp air cling to your skin. The deeper you go, the more unfamiliar the landscape becomes—you don’t recognize this part of the woods at all, and a strange sense of unease settles over you.

“Bloody heaven, where are you taking me?” you huff, doing your best to keep up with his long strides.

“You’ll see,” he grumbles, helping you up when you trip over an exposed tree root. “Can you stop tripping every five seconds? You’re slowing us down, and we’re on a time crunch.”

You glare at the back of his head as he speeds up. What a dick.

It’s not long before you arrive at the destination; it’s a stone table in the middle of the woods. You look around suspiciously. “Is this a ritual site? Are you planning on killing me for some weird sacrificial thing now that you know I’m a virgin, or…?”

Wooyoung bursts out laughing, “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, actually. This is a portal.”

“A portal? To where?” you ask, peering at the stone. It doesn’t look like any portal you’ve ever seen.

“Want to find out?” he offers a hand for you to take, and you grab it warily.

He places his other hand on the stone, and its magic instantly pulls you through the atmosphere, sending you spiraling toward an unknown destination.

When you land, your feet hit the damp cobblestone street with a soft thud. The air smells of rain and baked goods, and you take in the bustling scene around you—witches and warlocks are flowing in and out of quaint little shops that line both sides of the road, their chatter filling the air. The street is alive with energy, and everything looks both foreign and strangely charming.

Before you can fully absorb it all, Wooyoung tugs you along, his grip firm as your head swivels, trying to figure out exactly where you’ve been transported to. The unfamiliar cityscape seems like a dream, its details slipping through your grasp as you hurry to keep up.

Suddenly, you collide with his back, not realizing he has stopped. "Ouch," you mutter, rubbing your nose in surprise. You’re about to say more when something above catches your eye—the sign swinging in the breeze.

"Trahana’s Tomb!" you squeal, excitement bubbling up. For ages, you've wanted to visit this place, but something always got in the way. Now, here it is, right in front of you, and the thrill of finally arriving sends a rush through you.

Trahana is a renowned sorceress and writer known for her vast collection of grimoires, enchanted artifacts, and other rare occult items—many of which are now on display and for sale at her legendary store. You've been itching to get your hands on her coveted Book of Arcane Beasts, a tome filled with forbidden knowledge of magical creatures, their histories, and untold powers.

Wooyoung holds the door open for you, and without a second thought, you dash inside. Your eyes widen as you take in the towering shelves crammed with both ancient and new books. Every corner of the shop is overflowing with enchanted curiosities.

At the back of the shop, a narrow, spiraling staircase catches your eye. It likely leads to an upper level filled with even more treasures waiting to be explored. The thought of what might be hidden beyond tempts you, adding to the growing sense of wonder.

"Oh, my sweet, evil boy! How are you?"

You turn to see a tall, elegant woman pinching Wooyoung’s cheeks with an affectionate grin.

He swats her hands away, groaning, "Aunt Hana, you know I hate when you do that. I’m not five anymore."

She laughs, unbothered by his protest. "Oh, you'll always be the stubborn young warlock playing with the Acheron Configuration upstairs even when told it was off limits," she teases, her eyes twinkling with the memory. “Goddess knows how many hours you spent trying to crack that spell.”

She shifts her gaze to you, giving you a quick once-over before raising an eyebrow. "Don’t be rude, Wooyoung. Introduce me to your friend."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, "Forgive me. This is Y/N, another student at Onyx Academy. Y/N, meet Trahana, the curator of this fine establishment and, unfortunately, my insufferable aunt."

Trahana smirks, ignoring his jab. "Charmed, I’m sure," she says, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she sizes you up.

"I need to get back to work, but it was a pleasure meeting you, darling," Trahana says with a warm smile, her voice dripping with a mix of elegance and mystery. She gives you one last appraising look before turning away, her long robes sweeping the floor as she glides effortlessly toward the front of the store. The air feels lighter without her presence, yet the sense of power she carries lingers, leaving you a little awestruck.

You gape at him once she’s out of earshot. "She’s your aunt?"

Wooyoung sighs, nodding with exaggerated patience. "Yes, I’m painfully aware."

"That’s so cool. So you spent a lot of time here growing up?" you ask, curious to learn more about him.

"Yeah," Wooyoung replies, glancing around the shop with a hint of nostalgia. "My parents traveled a lot for business when I was younger, so this place became like a second home. Now, I come back whenever I need a break from school. Plus, it’s a great place to study; there's something peaceful about the chaos here compared to the eerie silence of Onyx Academy’s library."

"That makes sense," you say, nodding as your fingers trail across the spines of the old books lining the tight aisle. The dust, the energy, and the soft hum of magic in the air make the shop feel alive, the perfect contrast to the academy’s cold, quiet halls. "I can see why you'd find this place comforting."

Wooyoung smiles, clearly more relaxed here than you've ever seen him. "It’s got a strange kind of charm, doesn’t it?" he says, his voice softer now as the two of you meander through the maze of shelves, discovering little pieces of history with every step.

He allows you to explore the shelves, letting you dive into the books that capture your interest. As you lean down to examine the aged pages, he watches as a loose strand of hair slips across your face, and you absently tuck it behind your ear.

"Can I show you something?" he asks, gently drawing you away from the book that’s captivated your attention.

You glance up at him, and to your surprise, he almost seems nervous. It’s a rare sight for someone who usually exudes such confidence. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, making you curious about what he wants to show you.

Nodding, you allow him to lead you toward another bookshelf two aisles away from where you were just standing. His gaze flicks across the titles, searching for something specific.

"Ah, here it is," he finally says, lifting his arm to reveal a book with a deep blue spine. You hear a soft click as he pulls it out slightly, followed by a faint unlocking sound. With a practiced motion, he shifts down to another shelf and pulls out a book with a green spine. To your astonishment, the entire bookcase creaks ominously before revealing a secret door.

"This whole day just keeps getting stranger by the minute. Is this another portal?" you ask, a mix of skepticism and humor in your voice.

Wooyoung grins playfully. "As entertaining as that would be, no. It’s not a portal. It’s my secret place."

You turn to look at him. "See, now that’s kind of worse. Now I really don’t want to go in." The idea of stepping into his hidden sanctuary feels more daunting than the prospect of another magical journey.

He gives you a look.

“Okay, fine. In I go,” you say, taking a step closer before reaching for the cold handle. As you turn it and push the door open, you peer into the darkness beyond, straining to gauge what lies within. And, if you have to be completely honest, wondering why it needs to be hidden away.

Wooyoung steps inside after you, snapping his fingers to conjure his magic. A bright orb of light flickers to life, glowing softly at first. As he guides it upward, it gradually brightens and rises to the center of the room, illuminating the hidden space with a warm, inviting glow. The walls are revealed and adorned with eclectic decorations and mysterious photographs, creating an enchanting and haunting atmosphere.

"What is this place?" you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer to a nearby table and spot a stack of photographs. You pick up the first few, admiring the artistic shots of a plant you recognize from your walks through the Darkwood—it's a Moonset Fern, captured in full bloom. You remember learning about it in Herbology 101 last year; it’s renowned for its ability to protect against ill-will spells.

Intrigued, you skim through the rest of the stack. Each photo showcases different plants, all with potent herbal properties, their images so carefully composed they almost seem to pulse with hidden power.

“So,” Wooyoung says nervously, “What do you think?”

“Of the photographs? I think they’re beautiful. You took these?” He nods. “I didn’t know you had an interest in photography. Or Herbology, for that matter.”

"It’s a secret interest. Obviously," Wooyoung says, gesturing around the room to emphasize his point. "Unfortunately, Father Blackmoor thinks it’s a complete waste of time. To him, this is the work of a lesser warlock." The distaste is evident in his voice, like the words themselves leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "He’d rather I focus on proving my potential to become the youngest Anti-Pope."

"Do you believe him?" you ask, watching his reaction closely.

"Am I even allowed to believe any different?" he replies, his tone a mix of resignation and defiance. He picks up a different stack of photos and flips through them, each holding a distant memory of a time he felt genuine joy.

"Part of me wishes I wasn’t destined for this life—that I had the power to shape my own future," Wooyoung admits, his voice heavy with conflicted emotion. "But then the other half of me hates myself for even thinking like that, especially after everything my family has sacrificed to get me here." His gaze drops, the weight of expectation clearly pressing down on him, caught between desire and duty.

“No one in the history of The Church of Night has ever turned down a position of power once they've received the proper training and hold the necessary status,” he continues, his tone growing darker. "I can’t even imagine the consequences of rejecting something like that." The mere thought seems to weigh on him, defying centuries of tradition would unravel everything—not just for him, but for everyone tied to his legacy.

“That’s a frustrating position to be forced into. Though, I hate to admit I’m jealous.”

His head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours, confusion and a flicker of anger etched across his face.

"I’ve spent my whole life not knowing what my future will look like," you begin, your voice tight with emotion. “I have all this power, yet no one can explain why I have it or what I’m supposed to do with it. I don’t have even the slightest clue where I’ll end up in life, so yeah, from that standpoint, I am a bit jealous of your situation," you admit, a hint of envy creeping into your voice.

As you speak, the anger in his expression gradually fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. His features soften, and you can see him truly considering your words, letting them sink in.

"At least you have a clear path laid out for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want. I’m still stumbling around, trying to figure out what my purpose even is. But even then..." your tone softens slightly, "If I were you, I wouldn’t let my sense of duty smother the passion I feel for another study—even if it’s an uncommon path for someone in my position.”

You begin again, your voice steady with conviction, "The Dark Lord wouldn’t have put this path in front of you if there wasn’t something here worth discovering. I’d bet there’s a connection between each path, and maybe, just maybe, you’re meant to do something with both. Something no one else has thought of yet.”

Wooyoung hadn’t thought of that.

“That’s just my two cents,” you sigh, setting the photos down and walking over to the next table with hundreds more to look through.

One photo in the middle of the pile catches your eye, standing out in a way the others don’t. You can’t quite place the plant; it’s unfamiliar, yet stirs a sense of deep nostalgia. It’s a rich olive green, with spiny stems and sharply pointed leaves giving it a menacing look. But what truly captivates you is the ethereal purple aura surrounding it, shimmering faintly, like the plant itself is alive with ancient magic. Something about it feels important, though you can’t recall ever seeing it before.

"It’s a Ghost Violaceae," Wooyoung murmurs softly, leaning in close over your shoulder. His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice slightly raspy. "It’s commonly used in the art of seduction." His words hang in the air, as mysterious as the plant itself, and the subtle intensity in his tone makes the air between you suddenly feel different.

Wooyoung would do unspeakable things to know the thoughts swirling in your mind right now. He’s desperate to unravel what it is that made you blush so fiercely, what’s causing your heart to race and your breath to quicken.

You turn slightly, looking up at him with your lips parted. Wooyoung tilts his head, his eyes sparkling as he tries to decipher the emotions playing across your face. There's a flicker of curiosity in your gaze, his focus sharpening as he leans in just a fraction closer…

The sudden ringing of a timer blares through the silence, startling you both. Your head snaps toward the sound and you see a stopwatch floating in midair, its rhythmic ticking a clear reminder that your time is almost up. It’s time to return to Onyx Academy to prepare for your next session with Yeosang.

Beside you, Wooyoung tenses, the atmosphere immediately changing. The warmth in his eyes vanishes as quickly as it has surfaced, replaced by the cold, guarded demeanor he typically fronts. His walls shoot back up, and just like that, the brief vulnerability between you disappears.

Blair eyes you curiously, her black feathers ruffled while she senses the secret you’re holding back. She’s perched on a low branch, watching as you wait beneath the cascading limbs of the Weeping Willow. You’ve arrived early, not finding any solace in the silence of your room after returning to campus. Yeosang should be here any minute, but the unease from earlier lingers.

Wooyoung had barely spoken after the stopwatch appeared, his mood darkening as he grudgingly led you back to the portal. He rushed you through without a word, his steps heavy with frustration, and stormed off toward the church once back on school grounds without so much as a goodbye.

You’ve been trying to clear your mind, focusing your energy on the upcoming session with Yeosang, but the tension from Wooyoung still simmers under the surface. You take a deep breath, determined to push it aside and give Yeosang your full attention. He deserves it.

Blair lets out a sharp caw before taking off into the sky, disappearing into the distance as soon as she senses his presence. She knows to give you your privacy, leaving you alone just as he approaches.

“Oh, you’re here already,” Yeosang says, a bit surprised to see you already by the willows. He steps forward, his happy expression growing as he extends a bouquet of dried wine-colored roses, elegantly tied with a black ribbon.

“These are for you.”

Your breath catches at the sight of them. "These are gorgeous. Thank you—wow," you say, smiling while gently taking the bouquet from his hands. The gesture feels intimate, the deep red petals catching the light as you admire them, warmth blooming in your chest at the unexpected kindness.

“You’re welcome. Do you want to apparate them to your room?” Yeosang suggests.

“That’s a good idea, actually,” you reply, lifting the bouquet in front of you. With a soft hum, you recite the incantation, watching as the flowers shimmer and disappear, transporting them to your bedside table in an instant.

“There,” you smile, “Now they’ll be waiting for me when I get back.”

“We have a short walk to our destination. If you’ll follow me?” Yeosang guides you up a path behind the willow grove, the incline leading to a breathtaking view of the Darkwood below. The forest stretches endlessly, its shadowy canopy glittering with ancient magic.

"Do you mind waiting here?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of nerves flickering across his face. "I thought I'd have a little more time to set things up."

You smile softly. "I don’t mind at all."

Relieved, he excuses himself, disappearing back down the trail to retrieve whatever surprise he has planned. The minutes pass in peaceful quiet, the cool air brushing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment, until a faint rustling behind you interrupts the calm energy. You glance over your shoulder, seeing nothing, and shrug it off—probably just the wind.

But then, movement at the edge of the tree line catches your eye, a shadowy figure slipping between the trees.

You step cautiously toward the movement, your heart beating a little faster with each quiet footstep. The air seems to thicken as you approach, a soft rustling continuing just beyond the nearest tree. You steady yourself, taking a slow breath before rounding the massive trunk.

Face to face with the culprit, you freeze—a pair of wide, curious eyes staring back at you. It's a small, ethereal creature, almost like a fox but with wisps of glowing mist trailing from its fur. Its translucent body shimmers faintly under the dappled light filtering through the trees.

You exhale in relief, it’s just another familiar. The creature’s gentle gaze is more inquisitive than threatening; and she tilts her head, trying to decide whether to flee or come closer, her silver eyes studying you with an almost childlike curiosity. The creature soon takes off, before you have a chance to ask who they belong to.

As you turn around, a startled cry escapes your lips—Wooyoung is standing just inches from you, his presence completely unexpected.

"What are you doing here?" you snap, your hand instinctively flying to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I'm not really here. Just astral projecting. And who’s to say I wasn’t here first?"

You cross your arms, glaring at him, clearly unimpressed.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I wasn’t here first," he concedes with a shrug, his smirk faltering under your withering stare.

"Yeosang is going to be back any second," you warn, narrowing your eyes. "Are you here to spy on us?"

"Pfff... no..." he says, though the lack of conviction in his voice makes you roll your eyes.

"Lame," you mutter, watching his poorly veiled attempt at denial fall apart. He shifts awkwardly under your gaze, clearly caught.

“I don’t like that you’re alone with him.”

“Why?”

“I told you already. I. Don’t. Share.”

“You can’t be serious,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Is this just some kind of game? Are you playing with me because you don’t want Yeosang to have me? What is it, Wooyoung? You haven’t given me a second thought until two days ago.”

“It’s not like that—" Wooyoung starts, but the sound of rustling interrupts him, cutting his sentence short. Both of you turn, startled, as Yeosang emerges from the trees. His eyes sweep the clearing, looking for you since you aren’t standing where he left you. When he spots you, he smiles and approaches, carrying a woven basket in one arm and a blanket in the other.

You glance back toward Wooyoung, but he’s already vanished. Typical, slipping away before finishing what he started. Maybe he’s glad for the escape before you can grill him any further.

“Looking for something?”

‘More like someone,’ you think to yourself. “Oh sorry, I thought I saw a familiar, but it ran off,” you explain, brushing off the awkward moment. “So, what’s all this?” You gesture to the basket, quickly shifting the conversation before Yeosang has a chance to ask anything.

He grins, glancing down at his hands, a bit shy. "I hope you like picnics. I thought we could enjoy some treats and maybe get to know each other better."

“That sounds lovely,” you reply warmly.

Yeosang carefully picks a spot, spreading the blanket and the two of you sit side by side, the breathtaking view of the Darkwood stretching out below. There’s something serene about the quiet between you, the moment brimming with peaceful anticipation.

He sets the basket in front of you, lifting the lid to reveal an array of colorful sweets, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun reflecting off the glass jars inside. You notice delicate pastries, chocolates, and sugared fruits arranged neatly.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a little of everything,” Yeosang says, his voice low but sincere.

Your heart warms at the gesture. "You’ve really outdone yourself,” you praise, picking up one of the pastries for yourself and offering another to him.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to bring up the scroll from yesterday. "I didn’t want to pry, but you left in such a rush yesterday. Was everything alright?" you ask before taking a bite.

Yeosang chuckles softly, as if amused by the memory. "Funny you should ask. Turns out, when I arrived at Father Blackmoor’s office, he had no idea what I was talking about. No urgent scroll was sent for me. But he thought it was good timing and wanted to discuss my plans for after I complete my time at the academy."

Your curiosity piques further. "And those plans are...?" you press, hoping he’ll open up.

Yeosang hesitates briefly, but then, with a slight smile, he reveals, "I’d like to teach, maybe. My father was a teacher, and he always said I had the same qualities. Plus, I love kids. I think teaching them the basics of magic—the very foundation of what they'll need for the rest of their lives—would be important work."

A soft breeze ruffles the edges of the blanket, and you can’t help but smile at his answer. "That sounds perfect for you. I can already picture you as a great mentor."

The rest of your evening with Yeosang flies by in a blur of conversation and quiet moments spent enjoying the view. Before you know it, he's walking you back to the dormitories. He hesitates as you both stop outside the door to the girls' dorms, clearly lingering on something unsaid.

"I just want you to know," he starts, shifting nervously, "that regardless of what happens tomorrow at the Matching Ceremony, I had a lovely time tonight. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Before you can respond, he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” back, still caught in the trance from the warmth of his lips against your skin. As you make your way up to your room, your heart feels light, and you can’t help but smile even wider when you notice the flowers he gave you earlier—now arranged beautifully in a vase on your nightstand.

But something else catches your eye—a small, glimmering box sitting on your bed, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight. You walk over to it and find a note attached in handwriting you immediately recognize.

Not a game to me – W

Your breath hitches as you find the book you had been eyeing earlier—the one Wooyoung had distracted you from in Trahana’s shop—alongside the newest edition of The Book of Arcane Beasts. Tucked neatly between the pages are a few of the photographs from his secret room; the ones you had admired without realizing he noticed.

Your heart races as you hold the items in your hands, the meaning of his gesture sinking in. It’s not just a game. Whatever this is with Wooyoung, it’s something real. And now, you're more conflicted than ever.

Yeosang steps closer to the flames that surge in the iron vessel before him, casting flickering shadows across his face while he waits. If you look closely, shapes begin to form within the flames, dancing and twisting as though something is being forged in the heat. A sudden flare of sparks erupts from the fire—it's ready.

With a steady hand, he pulls an envelope from the fire. The edges of the paper are still smoldering while he opens it with precision, watching as the magic ink slowly manifests on the paper, revealing a name.

You notice a brief, almost imperceptible frown cross his face, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Polly Petrify,” he announces smoothly, his voice steady, betraying nothing as he steps back into place.

Father Blackmoor gives a solemn nod, signaling his approval of the pairing.

The Church is packed for the Matching Ceremony, and a mix of excitement and nervous energy ripples through the crowd. The warlocks stand in front of the filled pews, their postures rigid and unreadable, while the witches occupy the first two rows of seats, eyes flickering with anticipation.

You sit among them, your heart sinking as Yeosang’s name is paired with another witch. The knot in your chest tightens, but before you have time to register how you truly feel, Wooyoung steps forward.

It’s his turn.

Time stretches unbearably as his fingers hover over the glowing envelope that emerges from the flames. He grasps it carefully, tearing it open before pulling out the slip of paper, the suspense in the room thickening with every second.

At least a dozen witches sit in eager anticipation, each one hopeful, their eyes flicking toward the altar, silently praying that their name will be the one called.

You watch his face intently, almost holding your breath.

The moment he reads the name, a subtle smile curls at the corner of his lips, making him look effortlessly gorgeous. His inky black hair falls in perfect disarray, and the deep blue sweater he’s wearing brings out a distinctive glimmer in his eyes—it’s definitely his color.

As he steps back in line to let the next warlock take their turn, you realize that you completely missed whose name he just called. You’ve been too busy gawking to notice. Leaning toward the witch beside you, you whisper, “Whose name did he say?”

She shoots you a scowl and snaps, “Yours.”

Your heart skips a beat, and your gaze whips back up front. Wooyoung catches your eye and quickly winks, the gesture playful yet it’s enough to send a wave of heat rushing through you. Your pulse races and every nerve in your body is suddenly aware of his presence. The world around you fades for a second, the reality of the situation sinking in—he chose you.

It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. Your chest tightens, and it’s taking every ounce of control not to claw at your neck in search of air. You can’t tell if your racing heart is a sign of excitement, fear, or a mixture of both.

The pairing results swirl through your mind as you try to process how you feel about Wooyoung having been paired with you. You know that the warlocks have some say in their pairing preference, but the decision is ultimately up to Father Blackmoor and The Dark Lord.

But there’s no time to dwell on it now—you have a performance to focus on. As the rest of the ceremony wraps up, the witches, including yourself, are expected to sing I Put A Spell On You.

You walk up to the front of the church with the other witches, your heart still hammering in your chest. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze searing into you from across the room, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You know that if you do, you’ll stumble over the lyrics or worse, completely forget your part.

With every note of the song, you force yourself to remain composed. Your voice blends with the others, the melody haunting, filling the ancient church with an enchanting resonance. The weight of his stare lingers, but you resist the pull until the very end. Only when the final note fades and you’re walking back to your seat do you glance his way. His eyes are still on you, but there’s something different about his expression now—intense, unreadable.

Father Blackmoor steps forward as the ceremony winds down, his voice ringing through the dimly lit room. “Remember, paired witches and warlocks are strictly forbidden from seeing each other until tomorrow evening when you’ll all meet in the Darkwood for the Moon Ritual. Ghoul evening to you all.”

The church stirs with hushed whispers and rustling bodies as everyone begins to disperse. But you remain in place for a moment, your mind tangled in the events that have unfolded. Tomorrow promises even more mystery, and the thought of it sends another shiver down your spine.

You follow the large group down the path toward the heart of the academy’s campus, their excited chatter buzzing in the crisp evening air. But as they veer toward the dining hall, you quietly part ways, taking steps in the opposite direction toward a different building.

The heavy wooden doors creak as you push them open, and the familiar scent of ancient tomes and aged parchment envelops you.

The sanctum, the private library for advanced students like yourself, is nearly deserted tonight, making it the perfect place to find peace in the aftermath of the ceremony. The usual hum of magic is calming and the near-silence offers a much-needed space to clear your mind.

You make your way to the Demonology section, where the dim light and towering shelves create a cocoon of solitude. Finding an empty seat, you settle in, snapping your fingers to summon your books. In an instant, they materialize on the table before you, pages full of dark knowledge waiting to be absorbed.

Despite it being Lupercalia season, the academic grind doesn’t stop. Your upcoming exams loom over you like a dark cloud, and no amount of supernatural matchmaking will change that.

You run your fingers over the spines of your books, mentally preparing yourself to dive into study mode. The familiar words of your Demonology texts are grounding, a reminder of the discipline and focus you need to maintain.

The sanctum is quiet tonight, only the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional whispered incantation breaking the silence. You try to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wooyoung—his voice, his gaze, the gift he left in your room. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside. There will be time for all that later. For now, you need to concentrate.

Time passes and after finishing a few chapters, you glance at your watch, eyes widening in surprise. Three hours have flown by. Blair is going to be furious that you’re late to feed her. Scribbling down a final note, you snap your fingers, sending your books back to your room before heading out of the sanctum.

As you step outside, you collide with someone. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" you stammer, glancing up to apologize, only to be met with familiar eyes twinkling beneath tousled black hair.

Wooyoung.

“You’re forgiven,” he says smoothly.

"We’re not supposed to see each other," you remind him, taking a cautious step back.

He tilts his head, smirking too, just like he always does. "I know, but you skipped dinner, and there’s something I’ve been dying to do since yesterday."

"What? Stalk me some more?" you quip, feeling a rare surge of confidence.

His smirk spreads into a full smile, and to your delight, he chuckles—a sound you’ve secretly grown to love. Your heart pounds faster.

"You wish," he shoots back, his eyes gleaming as he steps closer. The intensity in his gaze feels almost magnetic, as if he's looking right through you, straight into your soul. His nostrils flare with a sharp exhale, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as he takes yet another step closer.

He doesn't answer. Instead, with one smooth motion, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch is firm, but there’s a softness to the way his fingers splay across your back. You feel your pulse quicken, your breath hitching in your throat.

“This is breaking the rules,” you whisper, trying to find an ounce of self-control to step out of his embrace.

His proximity overwhelms your senses—the warmth of his body, the way his breath tickles your skin, and the undeniable connection crackling between you two. He tilts his head slightly, the smirk on his lips fading into something more serious, more dangerous.

“I don’t break the rules, I just bend them,” he rasps, his voice low and teasing, right before he closes the space between you. The moment his lips brush against yours, you freeze, caught off guard by the softness, the tenderness as he coaxes you into responding. His mouth moves gently, skillfully, as if testing the waters, daring you to give in.

A frenzy stirs inside you, an electric current surging through your veins. Your hands instinctively move to frame his face, your fingers sliding along the sharp lines of his jaw before tangling in his soft, messy hair. The kiss deepens, the intensity building with every second as you press yourself closer to him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.

You can’t get enough; the taste of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and the undeniable pull that has your body responding before your mind can catch up. His other hand slides under your shirt and up your spine, anchoring you to him as if he never wants to let go.

Wooyoung mumbles an incantation against your lips before tickling the corners with his tongue. You’re too distracted to recall what he said, especially when you feel it.

Heat begins to radiate from his fingers, searing into your skin. It flows through your body until it hits your sweet spot, pooling dangerously between your legs.

You gasp against his mouth, and he uses the opportunity to dip his tongue inside, swallowing your moans as you let them slip out. Pressing your legs together, you try to find any sort of friction, aching for something to relieve the growing pressure.

A sinful sound vibrates from his chest when you bite down on his lower lip ever so gently. You have to admit, the thought of kissing him has crossed your mind more times than you can count. But now, standing here with the taste of him on your lips, you realize the reality is so much better than anything your imagination could have conjured.

He’s more intoxicating than any dream could ever be. Every touch sends a thrill through you that no fantasy could ever match. The way he knows exactly what you like leaves you yearning for more in a way that feels almost addictive.

Blair caws, cutting through the shadows of the night and announcing her arrival with impeccable timing. You both jolt, breaking apart as if the spell between you has been abruptly shattered.

“Ghoul evening, Blair,” Wooyoung mutters, his voice still thick with the lingering tension. He glances at the raven-like figure perched nearby, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. “It’s a good thing you arrived when you did,” he adds, his tone teasing. He looks down at you, pleased with how dissolved your shirt looks, how pouty your wet lips are from your nefarious activities.

He takes a step back, quickly smoothing down his hair and adjusting his clothes, his fingers lingering at his collar as he regains his usual composure. You, on the other hand, are still catching your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks and the electric hum of the moment that lingers in the space between you.

Give me a little privacy to say goodbye, and I’ll give you extra treats for your late dinner, you say telepathically to Blair. She tilts her head, considering the offer, before finally cawing in agreement and taking off into the night, clearly satisfied with the deal.

“I want you to try something tonight,” Wooyoung murmurs, his voice low and full of mischief. His eyes glint with something dark and thrilling, sending a shiver down your spine. “When you’re alone in bed and everyone else is asleep…”

Your heart races while he speaks.

“I want you to pretend that your hands are my own, and I want you to touch yourself where you felt my magic earlier.”

“E-excuse me?” you stammer, your heart racing as you try to find the right words.

He grins, leaning in just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he teases, his voice like velvet. “I need you to warm yourself up for me, so you’re ready to learn more tomorrow night. Will you do that for me?”

You nod, a shiver running across your skin as his words linger in the air.

“Now, get out of here and go feed Blair before you wake up tomorrow missing your eyes,” he adds with a playful smirk.

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “Fine, see you later.”

“Yes, you will,” he says with a wink, watching as you turn to leave, his gaze heavy on you the entire way.

His words linger in your mind for the rest of the night.

It's now the witching hour, and your roommates are fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the potion you slipped into their bedtime tea. They never noticed the subtle, earthy undertones masking the spell’s effects, leaving them in a deep slumber for the next several hours.

It had to be done, the last thing you need is for one of them to wake and catch you in the act, especially while you're carrying out Wooyoung’s special request.

Under the safety of your blankets, you move quietly, as if any sudden movement could betray your secret. One hand begins to massage your breasts through your thin tank top, the other sliding down toward your pink panties.

Taking a deep breath, you open your legs, allowing your fingers to slip beneath the dampening fabric. After spreading your juices around, you rub your clit before slowly dipping your first finger into your slick entrance. The sensation is unfamiliar—neither bad nor uncomfortable, just something you're not used to. The pain of the stretch lingers, leaving a strange warmth that you can't quite place.

You close your eyes and pretend that Wooyoung is there with you. Swiftly, you begin to curl your fingers, simultaneously bucking into your hand. You picture him hovering over you, but the image clouds over, shifting into a different scene that becomes sharper.

Wooyoung is also in bed, with his hand wrapped around his exposed, thick cock, lazily pumping it. There’s something unsettlingly vivid about this image, as if it’s not just a product of your imagination. It feels real—too real. Gasping, you realize that he’s in your head, projecting himself, revealing his presence in a way that makes your heart race.

Then, as if he can sense that you've finally caught on to his wicked scheme, a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your body’s temperature spike. “Are you touching yourself, like I asked you to?”

You suck in a sharp breath and nod instinctively, even though you know he can’t physically see you. But somehow, you sense that he knows.

“I bet you are,” he hums, closing his eyes while running his thumb over his pink head. He tosses his head back as he strokes himself, “I bet that tight little virgin cunt of yours needs some good stretching before she’s ready for me.”

Feeling the heat rising to the tips of your ears, they’re red from the weight of his words, like they’re wrapping themselves around you, pulling you deeper into his influence. The knot in your lower belly grows as you match your little finger thrusts to the speed of his hand pumps.

“Add another finger, honey, I know you can,” Wooyoung groans, his hand moving a little faster. “Look at how my cock aches to be sunk inside your sweet folds.”

You do as he commands. You’re panting at this point; completely zeroed in on his throbbing length while you climb towards bliss. The silent room fills with a sinful pattern of squelches from each thrust into your lush heat, and a divine sensation washes over you.

“Goddess, I’m about to make a mess,” he whines, a sound that you’ll never be able to forget. He stills, letting out another beautiful noise while his seed shoots out across his abs, some even on his dark silk sheets.

“That’s just a preview,” he grins devilishly, “Sleep well, Y/N.”

"Many blessings," Father Blackmoor's voice rings out, reverberating through the towering trees of the Darkwood. "Tonight, we honor the Moon and her radiant beauty. Paired couples, please step forward to collect your basket."

You step forward cautiously, aware of Wooyoung’s presence close behind you. As your fingers brush the edge of the woven basket, Wooyoung’s arm reaches past you, his hand closing around it first. His body hovers briefly against yours, a faint smile curving his lips. Sucking in a sharp breath, you pull your hand back as your mind flashes back to last night, Wooyoung’s cock is still fresh in your mind.

"Each basket contains a ceremonial knife," Father Blackmoor continues, his tone solemn. "You will begin the rite by smearing your blood upon your partner's forehead. Then, you must drink the purification potion—the milky-colored vial—and consume the figs, symbolizing your unity. Under the moonlight, you will lie side by side until dawn, as a testament to your bond and in preparation for tomorrow’s Hunt."

His final words hang in the cool night air as the forest seems to hush in reverence for what’s to come. You glance up at Wooyoung, and his eyes are already on you, dark and unreadable, only reflecting the moonlight.

As the other couples start to spread out across the forest, Wooyoung’s hand finds yours, tugging you deeper into the woods. His steps are quiet, purposeful, as the towering trees close in around you both. Your attention snaps forward when you catch a glimpse of movement—there, not far ahead, the same fox-like creature you spotted by the willows. The realization dawns on you: it’s Wooyoung’s familiar.

The creature moves gracefully, leading the way through the underbrush, its magical fur shimmering under the pale moonlight. Wooyoung follows without hesitation, his gaze fixed on his familiar. You trail behind, curiosity building, as the creature guides you to a secluded clearing hidden deep in the Darkwood.

“Thank you, Vixen,” Wooyoung murmurs once you’ve arrived. The fox-like familiar halts briefly, then glimmers before fading into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing embers that slowly dissipate into the night.

Your eyes scan the clearing, and you notice the scene in front of you—a circle of softly flickering candles arranged around a blanket spread across the forest floor. The air hums with quiet magic, thick with mystery and anticipation. Wooyoung turns to you, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, a mischievous yet unreadable expression crossing his face.

Wooyoung extends his hand to you, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you step onto the soft blanket. With a single snap of his fingers, your clothes transform—yours into a sheer white nightgown, his into simple black pants, with his chest left bare, the candlelight casting shadows over his defined muscles.

“Ready to begin?” he asks, voice low, eyes holding a flicker of something dangerous yet enticing.

You nod, your breath catching for a moment. Reaching into the basket set down beside him, your fingers curl around the cool metal of the ceremonial blade. Together, your voices join in a low, rhythmic chant, weaving through the night air. The ritual words hang heavy between you as you press the blade to your finger, feeling the sharp sting as blood wells up. Stepping closer, you bring your hand to his forehead, smearing an upside-down cross on his tanned skin, the blood vivid against his complexion.

Without a word, you hand the blade to Wooyoung, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. He mimics your actions, the cool sting of the knife barely registering as he pricks his finger, marking your forehead with the same crimson anti-cross. The flames around you leap higher, responding to the magic building in your chant.

The moonlight glistens against his skin, bathing him in an ethereal glow as he lifts the purification potion from the basket. He drinks deeply, eyes never leaving yours, and then hands the vial to you. You take it from him, your pulse quickening as you lift it to your lips, the magic binding you both growing stronger with each word, each action.

His eyes darken; trailing over your nearly naked body. They land on your peaked nipples, and he lets out a deep exhale while his eyes are glued in place.

“Um, figs,” Wooyoung clears his throat, momentarily dazed, shaking his head as if to regain focus. He grabs one from the basket, handing you the other. You sink your teeth into the fruit’s tender skin, its bright red flesh spilling a sweet, rich juice onto your lips. A single drop escapes and trails down your chin, and you catch Wooyoung watching, his gaze lingering longer than usual. But he doesn’t say a word. Not yet.

You quickly wipe away the juice, trying to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “So… what now?” you ask, your voice more uncertain than you intended. You’ve both completed the ritual, but the tension between you is undeniable. Neither of you has acknowledged last night’s activities, though you’re certain it’ll come up eventually. It has to.

He shifts slightly, his eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to bring it up. His lips twitch into a half-smile, “I’ve got an idea or two.”

You’re not sure how it happened—one moment you’re standing, the next you’re lying beneath him. Wooyoung hovers above you, his arms on either side of your head, eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. His body is close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and your pulse quickens as his breath brushes against your skin.

Without notice, his lips crash down onto yours. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, moaning when your hands twist in his hair.

He presses his hips down into yours, letting you feel how worked up he’s already become.

“We're technically not supposed to do anything tonight,” Wooyoung says, his voice low and teasing once he pulls back. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as he adds, “But a rule’s never stopped me before.”

You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him languishingly as he rolls his hips into yours again.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, this time pressing his length right up against your covered heat.

Wooyoung’s lips curl into a devilish smile when you whine incoherently about wanting more.

“Answer me, honey. Do you want more?” He asks with a growl, but the intensity in his gaze makes it clear—he already knows the answer.

“Yes,” you beg, “More. Please!”

He grabs handfuls of the fabric at your sides, bunching it up around your waist before he descends below.

Your dewy center is covered in a heavy coating of your arousal. Spellbound by the sight, he instinctively brings his fingers to your heat, gathering some of your transparent essence and smearing it around your folds.

“Fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Wooyoung mutters.

Incapable of waiting any longer, he dives in tongue first, licking a beautiful line from your slit’s opening up to your needy nub of nerves. Another growl resounds from his chest as he devours your sex, his cock involuntarily twitching when he sinks two fingers back to your opening. Wooyoung strokes his saturated fingers through your slit before sinking them inside your soft flesh, feeling your inner walls clench around them.

He pulls them out and admires how your hole instinctively sucks his digits back in where they belong.

“Such a tight little cunt. It’ll be ruined by tomorrow night,” Wooyoung groans; despite his words, there’s nothing but appraisal in his voice. He looks up at your body, meeting your eyes. His flash with a dark dominance, lust with a dash of something else flicker in them.

His devilish words only excite you further, and more of your sticky arousal coats his hand. Each curl of his fingers brings you closer and closer to writhing pleasure.

His head dips back down, his tongue swirling around your clit before he sucks it between his teeth. Gasping, you buck your hips upward, needing more. So much more.

“I can’t wait to turn you into a nasty little whore. Would you like that?” he asks in between little licks.

“Y-yes” you mewl. “Wanna. Be your w-whore.”

He’s got you dancing along the edge of a very dangerous cliff, and you want nothing more than to jump off, face first, and dive into the waves of ecstasy that await.

He can tell that you’re close; your walls are beginning to tighten around him. Flattening his tongue against your sensitive nub, he applies the right amount of pressure you need to come all over his face.

When he sits up, his mouth is dribbling with your release; it’s a pretty sight to see.

“Not bad for a virgin,” he teases.

Your blissful smile turns coy, “Is it my turn to taste you? You’ll have to teach this virgin just how you like it.”

A deep, low growl vibrates in his chest and the corners of his jaw flex as he stands up, his silhouette outlined from the moonlight.

“On your knees then, slut.”

You twist your body until you’re sitting on your knees, your used cunt dripping onto the blanket below.

“Goddess, I’m so fucking hard for you,” Wooyoung grunts while pulling his pants down.

Freed from his pants, his cock springs out before bouncing momentarily, then stands erect in its full glory. You reflexively clench at the sight of him. It’s just as you remember it from last night.

Tightening his palm around his shaft, Wooyoung begins stroking himself before lining his tip up to your lips.

“Take just the head into your mouth,” he murmurs. “Just while you warm up to the feeling.”

You immediately wrap your mouth around him and a wave of precum leaks directly onto your tongue. Circling his thick tip, you get comfortable with the weight of him on your tongue, learning his taste.

“Such a good slut,” Wooyoung croons, causing your core to tremble from his praises.

One hand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to look up at him, “When you’re ready for more, take a deep breath and take in more of me.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you suckle on his head, letting more and more of him into your wet cave. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, the tickling sensation causing him to jerk inside you.

Wooyoung tugs on your hair, softly at first, and then his fist wraps around the handful in his grasp. His impressive length fills your mouth, his immense girth cracking your jaw open with each gentle thrust.

Words of encouragement spill from his lips, giving you the confidence to suck in the final inch of his member.

Involuntarily, you gag around his cock when his thick head hits the back of your throat. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, falling soon after.

Without warning, his length surges into your throat and Wooyoung lets out a stream of colorful expletives as his release hits him. His hips jerk once more, and he tosses his head back underneath the moonlight.

You shudder, feeling his thick cum stick to the walls of your throat.

“Goddess,” he hums, “Sorry about that.” Wooyoung slips out of your mouth, admiring as you use the back of your hand, you wipe your soddened mouth.

“It’s okay. Now I know what to expect.”

Wooyoung pulls you into his embrace, and you both settle into the quiet rhythm of the night, staring up at the stars as they shimmer in the sky. His warmth surrounds you, grounding you amidst the cool breeze.

He shifts slightly, turning on the blanket to meet your gaze. “I need to warn you about tomorrow,” he begins, his voice lower, more serious. “The potion we warlocks take before the ceremony… it makes our animalistic instincts take over. It’s going to be rough. That’s why I’ve been preparing you, so to speak.”

A knot twists in your stomach at his words. You hadn’t realized the full extent of what tomorrow held, but now it makes sense. That’s why they call it the Hunt, you think, You’re basically their prey. The pieces finally click into place. His honesty, though jarring, makes you feel strangely grateful that he’s letting you in on something you weren’t aware of.

“I trust you,” you whisper softly. “You haven’t hurt me so far, so I’m not worried about tomorrow.”

Wooyoung’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He silently prays to Goddess Peralia that he won’t bring you any harm during the Hunt. The uncertainty flickers in his eyes for just a moment before he pulls you closer, wrapping you in his warmth.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as you settle against his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, and soon your breaths fall in sync, the sound of the wind rustling through the Darkwood easing you both into a peaceful silence.

As the stars twinkle above, the night’s calm surrounds you like a protective cocoon, lulling you into sleep. You drift into a deep, restful slumber, cocooned in his arms, feeling the peace before the inevitable storm of tomorrow.

“The Insatiable Hunt begins,” one of the warlocks grins darkly before tossing back the elixir, the liquid shimmering as it slides down his throat. Wooyoung raises his glass in silent agreement, his eyes flashing with excitement before he gulps it down, feeling the fiery potion race through his veins. The others follow suit, the room buzzing as they prepare for the night ahead.

They pull on their wolf masks, transforming from men into primal hunters, instincts sharpening with every heartbeat. The thrill of the chase hangs thick in the air as they line up, muscles tensed, waiting for the doors to open.

Wooyoung’s body hums with the effects of the potion, a burning heat spreading through his skin. His senses sharpen—your scent lingers, intoxicating and irresistible. His pupils dilate as your essence floods his nostrils, every fiber of his being urging him forward. The others grin beneath their masks, but his focus is single-minded: you.

The doors creak open with a loud thud, unleashing them into the night. With a guttural growl, Wooyoung sprints into the woods, his feet pounding the earth as he follows your trail, the scent drawing him deeper into the Darkwood. His heart races, blood pumping with one singular purpose: to find you. To claim his prize.

Wooyoung moves like a shadow, effortlessly twisting and turning through the woods, his heightened senses guiding him closer to your trail. Each subtle shift in the air tells him you're near. He slows as he approaches a dense thicket, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. He can feel you hiding, watching, waiting.

His cock strains when he catches a whiff of your scent, his hardened member straining against the tightness of his pants as it begs to bury itself deep inside of you.

His eyes narrow, hyper-focused on the faintest rustle of leaves. You dart from the bushes, sprinting through the underbrush, your breath quickening as you distance yourself from him. He follows silently, his steps deliberately soundless as he stalks you.

You duck behind a tree, pressing your back against its trunk, heart pounding in your chest. Straining to listen, you hear... nothing. No footsteps, no rustling—nothing. A chill creeps up your spine. Slowly, you peek around the tree, scanning the shadows. There’s no sign of him.

Relief barely has time to settle in before you turn back and scream.

He’s right there, inches away.

"Gotcha," Wooyoung growls, his voice low and menacing, his breath hot against your skin. With a wicked grin, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as he slams your back against the rough bark of the tree. The impact sends a jolt through your body, your heart racing even faster now. His grip tightens, but not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s in control.

His eyes glint through the wolf mask with a dangerous mix of hunger and satisfaction, the thrill of the Hunt evident in every line of his expression.

Wooyoung's grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “I can’t wait to split you in half with my cock.”

Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough bark of the tree. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his hands slide down your sides, firm and unyielding.

He blames his newfound animalistic behavior for how fast he rips away your crimson cloak and the layers beneath it, leaving the shredded fabric scattered across the mossy forest floor.

In one swift movement, Wooyoung uses a knee to spread your legs and sinks into your inviting opening without warning. Tears sting your eyes from the sudden intrusion, but the pain quickly turns into mind-shattering pleasure.

“Taking it so well, aren’t you, slut?” he purrs, voice low and dripping with praise. The raw, commanding edge in his tone sends shivers through you, your insides tightening around him in response.

You hum an incoherent response, unable to form words when his cockhead is pressed against the swell of your cervix.

After ripping his mask off, Wooyoung’s fingers press into your hips. He holds you steady as he moves, each thrust punctuated by dark whispers of just how perfectly he fits inside you.

Wooyoung’s grin brushes against your neck as he drags his tongue up the curve of your skin, leaving a lingering lick before pressing a kiss just below your ear. His hips pull back slowly, his length retreating from your slick folds until only the tip remains, teasing you.

Then, with a low growl, he thrusts forward, filling you entirely in one fluid motion, claiming every inch as he sinks deep inside.

The sudden motion causes you to moan uncontrollably, his girth continuing to stretch out your soft walls. Your soaked cunt splitting open around Wooyoung’s enormous girth only causes him to swell more, if that’s even possible.

“M-more, please!” you whimper.

Wooyoung clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness ooze out where your bodies meet with each quick thrust.

One of his hands squeezes your side, the other falls to your round ass, and his claw-like nails scratch across your skin before he pulls his hand back to spank you. Your vision blurs from the impact, and you push your hips out, asking for more.

“Again,” you whine, your head digging further into the tree’s bark.

You bite down on your lower lip, anticipation building as you brace yourself. A sharp crack echoes through the air as his hand comes down against you, harder this time and sending another sting that radiates through your skin.

A moan slips past your lips, the sharpness transforming into pleasure that courses through your body. His fingers trace the spot he’s just marked, his low chuckle rumbling against your ear.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice rich with approval, each word sending shivers through you. “Turn around. I want to look at you," he demands next, his voice gritting through his teeth.

You obey, slowly turning to face him, your heart racing under his intense gaze. His eyes roam over you, filled with a mix of hunger and admiration that makes you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.

Wooyoung cups your chin, tilting your face up toward him. His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as he drinks you in. "Look at you," he whispers, almost to himself, his thumb slipping inside your mouth. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around it, meeting his gaze as you lightly suck, earning a dark smile from him.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his free hand tracing down your body, grazing every curve and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "And you're all mine tonight." His words trail off as his length pounds into you again.

He watches as your lips part, head tilting back in pure bliss, and takes his chance. His mouth crashes onto yours, tongue slipping between your lips with a raw desire, claiming every inch he can reach. The kiss is deep and possessive, leaving you breathless as his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.

His tongue strokes against yours, tasting every gasp and moan you release, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath him. You melt into his kiss, losing yourself in the heat, the way he consumes you with each movement.

When he pulls back, Wooyoung drags his lips against the shell of your ear to whisper, “Is this what you want? Your little virgin cunt destroyed?”

“Yes,” you moan, voice low and thick with desire. Then, locking eyes with him, you let a wicked smirk curve your lips, meeting his heated gaze with a look as dangerous as his own. "Ruin me," you breathe, each word dripping with a challenge that sends a spark down his spine.

A growl escapes his lips, and his grip on you tightens. He pushes you against the rough bark, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as his eyes darken with pure, animalistic hunger. “You want to be ruined?” he whispers, his voice a low rasp against your ear as he pulls your hips even closer. “Careful what you ask for.”

His thrusts come harder, relentless, each one leaving you trembling and gasping as he takes you to the edge, only to pull you back before you can fall. His hand slides up your throat, a possessive touch that’s somehow both gentle and commanding as his thumb grazes your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You’re mine," he growls, eyes blazing, his body pressed against yours with no space left between you. He savors every inch of you, watching your face intently as he ravages you with a merciless rhythm, his fingers digging into your waist. “And I’m not stopping until you’re completely undone.”

Your moans grow louder, filling the night air and mingling with the rhythmic slap of your bodies moving in unison. The sounds echo through the Darkwood, a primal symphony that seems to resonate with the forest around you, intensifying with each frenzied thrust.

Wooyoung feels your walls clench tightly around him, a signal that you’re close to unraveling. “Cum around my cock, honey,” he rasps, his voice laced with possessiveness. “I know you’re close.”

He quickens his pace, pounding into you with a newfound urgency, while his fingers find their way to that sensitive spot between your legs. The moment his thumb and forefinger pinch your aching nub, pleasure spirals through you like wildfire.

You scream his name, your body seizing up as waves of ecstasy crash over you, each pulse flooding your veins with tingling heat.

He watches you intently, captivated as your face twists in bliss, feeling you squeeze around him, almost pulling him over the edge.

A low growl escapes his lips, and with two final, frenzied thrusts, he buries himself as deeply as he can, his abs contracting as he spills himself inside you. His teeth graze your bare shoulder, biting down as he rides out his release, filling you with a heat that leaves you both breathless.

“Oh, praise Satan,” he gasps, letting out a shaky laugh as he presses his forehead against yours. The two of you catch your breath together, heartbeats slowing, tangled in the afterglow.

You collapse entirely into his arms, utterly spent and trembling, every muscle deliciously exhausted as you sink into the darkness of sleep that lingers at the edge of your consciousness. A grin tugs at your lips, satisfaction mingling with exhaustion as you surrender to it, the night’s events replaying like a forbidden lullaby.

Nothing in your dreams could ever compare to the raw, disgraceful, dangerously addictive reality you’ve just experienced. Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you let go, falling into a slumber filled with echoes of his touch.

The room is loud with the sound of laughter, clinking goblets, and whispered gossip. Candles cast a warm glow over the grand hall as platters of food float between the seated bodies; you're barely listening though, too hyper-aware of Wooyoung sitting beside you.

You steal a glance at him from across the table. He’s watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. A secret smirk plays at the corner of his lips, one that makes your cheeks burn under the soft glow of the chandeliers. It’s almost unbearable, this tension simmering between you, each stolen look as dangerous as a spark near dry wood.

His fingertips graze yours under the table, sending a rush through you each time. You both know the game you’re playing—pushing boundaries, daring each other, waiting for one of you to make the next move.

Finally, he leans in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Let’s get out of here.”

"We can’t just leave," you mumble, finally meeting his burning gaze. There's a warning in your eyes, but he ignores it, his grin only growing.

You bite your lip, glancing around at the oblivious faces around you. "It’s the middle of the feast," you continue, though your resolve is already faltering. "People will notice."

"Let them," he says, the mischief in his tone unmistakable.

He stands and takes your hand, his grip both gentle and possessive as he leads you out, weaving through the tables with a confidence that dares anyone to question him.

Whispers and side glances follow, and you try to ignore the burning stares—hungry warlocks with dark eyes, envious witches with guarded whispers.

Everything has changed.

Wooyoung’s presence grounds you, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin. And when he glances back at you, tilting his head in that familiar way with a smirk tugging at his lips, you realize that somehow—despite all the chaos of this past week—some things aren’t so different after all.

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[purerae]

— DUPLEXITY;;

fem!reader x coworker!yanderes

— who knew attempting to bond with your co workers would lead to a fucked up love triangle?

prologue; quit your job! If dying was an option right now, Y/N would take it with a gleeful smile.

Sprinting through the woods, her ears ringing, she slams her grimy, broken hand against her head over and over. Her knees, bruised to a swollen pulp of purple, threaten to buckle beneath her. A deep, unprotected gash dressed painfully across her back, its edges rotting, every movement tearing at the poorly dressed wound.

Ignoring the piercing whine in her ears, her heart froze at the sound of shuffling drawing closer. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her moving forward. An ear striking screech bursts from the girl’s throat, desperate to catch the attention of any passing drivers or hikers.

How could she be so foolish? It’s four in the morning, and she’s in the middle of nowhere, with two freaks relentlessly chasing her.

Her scream was a terrible mistake. It brought her no closer to freedom instead only closer to her pursuers. Their shouts echo behind her, filled with words she can’t—and doesn’t want to comprehend.

Pleas, threats, and bursts of anger escape from their mouths but the only thing that Y/N had her mind on was getting her brother and leaving this shithole. Y/N ran and ran, but to her dismay and an almost comical cruel sense of bad luck , Her vision was slammed with a wall ruined with graffiti that was now taunting her from her inescapable future. Her breathing slows as she stumbled back, desperately praying for anything that could save her. Surely they weren't close, she put in all this effort, they cannot be close! With trembling caution, she moved backward, her steps deliberate and silent. She avoided every brittle branch and insect littering the forest floor, straining to make as little noise as possible. Her back pressed into something soft yet unyielding, carrying the earthy scent of firewood mixed with the sharp tang of blood that she’ll always loathe.  Y/N’s breath hitched, frozen in her chest as the sound of heavy breathing enveloped her ears from just behind.

‘Fuck.'

“You can’t run from us. It’s two against one, cutie.”

Even with her back turned, she could picture his smug, shit-eating smirk. A chill ran down her spine as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, trapping her. God, she wished she had a bat so she could beat him till he was a lifeless piece of flesh that she could point and laugh at. Too bad that would never be possible, even if she had a weapon to begin with. Deep down, Y/N knew there was no escaping this. But with every ounce of strength her battered body could summon, she let out the loudest scream she could muster; a semblance of hope in her body that somebody could save her. It tore through the cold night air before everything turned black. The last thing she heard was another man's footsteps approaching them, and two voices she made an oath to never hear, conversing. All she wanted was a fucking pay raise.

-

-

- Y/N buttoned her blouse with a giddy smile, rushing around her room in search of the shoes she’d bought just for this day. "I can't believe I got the job! I'm so excited, this still feels so surreal."  she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she grabbed her phone, waiting for her friend’s response. "Girl, I'm happy for you!” her friend shouted over the line, her voice barely cutting through the loud music and chatter in the background. “Just work hard, and you’ll be promoted to detective in no time! My little Sherlock Holmes~” Y/N scoffs out a laugh before she shakes her head at the chaos on the other end. Normally, she’d lecture her friend about hosting a party at seven in the morning, but today, she was too nervous and way too excited about her first day to care. "Ahaha, Yeah  I don't know about that... I'm still in shock that I got the job to be the assistant, let alone be the main thing. I just hope the person in charge of me is nice." The E/C-eyed girl replied looking at the ceiling , nervously biting her nails whilst walking back and forth in her room.

"Don't stress about it! I'm sure they'll be nice, babes. And you should ju-" Y/N’s friend was abruptly cut off by a guy shouting in the background, his voice carrying over the music: “Ayra! Get back to the party already!” "Hold on a sec Noel! Im talking to Y/N" she yells back with an obvious scowl on her face… Well, Y/N was almost positive that she displayed one based on the tone of her voice. "It's fine! You go do your shit, I gotta’ finish getting ready." "Okay Okay, message me after your shift ends. I wanna know everything~!" The bubbly girl says as she mimics a kiss sound. Despite Ayra not being able to see Y/N, she smiles with a soft gaze at the phone before hanging up. Staring into the mirror, she carefully assessed her outfit. A sleek black blouse layered over a white undershirt paired perfectly with a matching black pencil skirt. Light makeup enhanced her features, and her neatly styled hair framed her face just right. She smoothed her clothes with her hands, beaming widely as she twirled in front of the mirror. Y/N gathered all her essentials, carefully packing them into her bag before stepping out of her apartment. She locked the door with a quick twist of the key, then paused to double-check it twice…just to be sure; it was a habit she had done ever since she lived in her parents home. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor. Knowing the ride would take a while, she lived on the second-highest floor, after all, she pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:15 a.m. Perfect. With the bus journey to the department taking only 30 minutes, she was right on schedule (which was always a struggle for her.) A grin spread across her face as she opened her email app and tapped on the message from the 'Warrens Department.' Her heart fluttered nervously as she re-read the letter, scanning each line to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important. As she scrolled to the bottom, her brows furrowed. There, tucked away, was a link she hadn’t noticed before.

'Shit I must've missed this' She thought with worry before quickly clicking the link, silently thanking her instincts for prompting her to double-check the message. The link was a profile of the detective that she would be working with. Looking at the picture, she notices that he was a very conventionally attractive male. The formally dressed girl squints her eyes before assessing the man that her eyes laid upon.

Xavier Allette, it read. Twenty-five years old, with five years of experience as a detective.

‘Holy shit, he became a detective at 20? I was still in university then.’ Y/N’s thoughts wandered briefly as she reminisced about her own journey, a flicker of envy stirring as she compared herself to her boss.

Letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had; The assistant was expecting an old cruel man as her boss, but to her luck, it was someone of a similar age to her. And, as a bonus, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

Y/N knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance, but as her cheeks warmed, she couldn’t help but blush at the handsome face staring back at her from the screen. A straight pale face, with a clean-shaven look. His hair was a wavy deep black, tussled formally. Eyes sharp and matched with his extremely dark hair. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the absence of a glint or any sign of life in his pupils. ‘I’m overthinking it,’ she told herself. ‘He’s just posing for the picture’. It had to be her psychology degree kicking in, making her analyze every feature of his face like a subject in a case study. Xavier’s nose was strikingly defined, and his lips were full, holding a slightly warm tint that gave his serious expression a subtle softness. Though he was wearing a suit, anyone could tell the detective worked out as his jaw was sharp and his shoulders were broad. It was clear that he took good care of himself.

The only other information displayed on his profile was a list of the cases he had worked on and details about his educational background. 'Maketa Academy?!' That was the most prestigious high school that Y/N had ever heard of. You could either get in with a scholarship or a lot of money. Unfortunately for her, she had been neither crazy smart nor crazy rich, so attending a place like that had never been an option. Y/N couldn’t tell whether Xavier had gotten in through wealth or intellect, but either way, it was impressive. Her train of thought abruptly halted as the elevator chimed, signaling her arrival on the first floor.

Turning off her phone, She exits the building before walking a short distance to the bus so she could arrive at the destination where she was going to be working.

'Please be nice to me, Warrens Department.'

-

-

-

Y/N rushed out of the bus, the clock read 8:00 am. The bus kept on delaying because of the traffic that the driver faced. The 15 minutes that she was hoping she had left to spare, disappeared all because of not getting a driver's licence! Cursing at herself, she ran to the building that was two minutes away. She could get there in ten seconds, her stubbornness is saving her life today.

The girl stared in awe at the building for a second. It was massive and incredibly modern. A large sign labelled Warrens Department was placed right in the middle of the building. Shaking her head, she scans the key card that came into the mail a week ago and fixes any loose hairs before walking into the building.

8:01 am, Already a minute late, though not much of a difference, she didn't want to disappoint her boss on the first day. Power walking to the reception she sighs shyly before speaking up. "Hi!" Her voice cracks.

'Oh my god, first I'm late, now my voice cracks, I should just quit my job and leave this e-' "Hello! Who’re  you? I've never seen you before?" The ginger girl behind the desk questioned loudly. Her light southern accent peeked through. The red-haired was incredibly short, her face caked with pink-themed makeup matching her formal pink outfit. Y/N thought the receptionist was cute and seemed nice too! If she wasn't too busy stressing about being late, she'd love to be her friend. "I'm the detective's new assistant— Xaviers Allette's assistant." Y/N rambles, hands shaking with nerves.

"Y/N L/N?" The receptionist questioned with eyebrows raised, Y/N nods quickly and shows her key card to the lady. "I'm Abigail!" her smile drops, "Also, you should probably head over to his office quickly, Mr Allette hates tardiness.. a lot." It was now Y/N's turn for her face to drop, she mumbles a quick thank you before running off.She stops in her tracks as she realised her stupid mistake. "Hey Abigail, what's his room number?" Y/N spoke rushing back to the desk. Reaching halfway, the red-haired girl puts her hand out, ordering her to stop running back. "It's on the second floor, room 11, hurry!" She yells, shaking her hand. The late assistant puts a thumbs up as a way of saying thank you before completely ignoring the elevator and rushing up the stairs. Turning left she finds the room that is the lead detective. On the door, a silver plate is shown with  'Room 11' and 'Xavier Allette' engraved onto them in a fancy font.. It was clear that his room was the biggest on the floor.

Wiping the sweat off her hands and re-checking herself on the reflection of the plate, she checks the time. 

8:05 am.

Y/N knocks on her boss's door. The door opens automatically, she notices the man that was just on her screen almost an hour ago, sitting down with his eyes furrowed and lips pulled into a frown.  His eyes were fixated on his computer screen, fist propped against his chin. The assistant looks around while patiently waiting for him to say something.

20 seconds passed and all that she could hear were the sounds of him typing. the h/c hair-coloured girl clears her throat.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Y/N L/N, and Im p-"

"You're late." A deep, harsh voice cuts her off. 

A/N : New story :p !! i really like the plot for this one and will have a masterlist out for it soon!

[kinardsevan]

i was watching some Gabriel Iglesias jokes and he was discussing the correlation between men and wine, and it made me need to write this. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 call it another trip down the outsider view of bucktommyweek, even though it's now September.

-

“Lucky bitch.” 

Taylor mutters under her breath as she shifts in her seat, waiting on her date now for at least ten minutes past when he last texted he’d be around. She’s not even sure why she’s still waiting, but she doesn’t have any other plans for the evening, and she’s not about to spend another night at the station editing footage together her field report on the wildfire in the Angeles National Forest. But as she stares across at the man a few tables over, he seems to be held up as well, checking his watch and phone every few seconds. He has two empty wine glasses on the table with him, and a bottle resting in ice. She recognizes enough of the label to know that it’s not cheap. She stares at him for a time, contemplates getting up and going over, asking if he wants company. He’s tall and muscular, beefy, as the youths say today, and she hasn’t been with a guy like that since…well, since Buck. And truth be told, even Buck wasn’t as muscular as this Adonis sitting feet away from her. 

All at once, she’s both irritated, jealous, and annoyed. Irritated that this specimen of a man is sitting so close, yet so far away, and he’s not there for her; jealous for exactly that reason, and annoyed that she’s still waiting on the arrival of her date when she could be chatting up the man sitting at the other table. Still, she’s not entirely sure what stops her. Maybe it’s the way he seems to have an invisible box up around him, shutting everyone else out, or the way he keeps staring at his phone, waiting on whoever hasn’t arrived to meet him yet. Maybe it’s because of something else she can’t put her finger on. Either way, she doesn’t get a whole lot of time to piece it together, because her own date finally arrives a few seconds later, and before he can launch into a list of excuses as to what took him so long, she stops him. 

“First of all, I wait on no one, so this is your singular warning to not do this to me again,” she states. “Second, I’ve already ordered appetizers because I’ve been here waiting all this time for you to arrive, so third, I hope you’re prepared to pick up the check.” 

Somehow, a miracle, she thinks, the man sits down in the seat across from her, finally launching into his speech about why he was late, and she’s a little shocked he didn’t bail at her lecture. She’s pulled it out before—laid out her expectations front and center—with the understanding that she won’t be treated like a petulant teenager because someone else can’t keep their time straight. 

After the long-winded excuse, the appetizer arrives, and then there’s an order of their own drinks and the main course, and the next time she looks over at the beautiful man, his date has clearly arrived, although Taylor can’t see her between the other patrons around them now. What she can see, is the gorgeous man smiling, enraptured by whatever his date is telling him, a twinkle in his eye as he sips from his wine. At the same time, her own date drones on about his day job, and all she can think, yet again, is lucky bitch.

. . .

“Oh come on, not this motherfucker again.” 

It’s four weeks later when she sees him again. They aren’t even at the same restaurant. He’s being delivered to a booth this time while she sits at a different table, waiting on a different date. Late guy didn’t even make it to her doorstep. She’d abandoned him in the parking lot of the restaurant after he’d made a comment about journalists being hacks. And now, when she’s having to meet Kenny, one of the network higher-ups about trying to gain more of an anchoring position, this jackass has to be front and center for her again. 

She tries to ignore his presence by scrolling through her phone, even taking time to scroll through Tinder. Still, she mostly swipes left as the tables around her fill up. Once again, she’s left waiting while other people start their meals, enjoy their dates, and so forth. When she looks up at the pretty one again, it’s clear that his girlfriend has arrived because he’s got that same stupid smile on his face, although maybe a bit more subdued? Like maybe everything isn’t perfect in fantasy land? She wiggles an eyebrow to herself, contemplating her chances again over whether she should introduce herself to the walking Statue of David. But then the network bigwig is arriving and taking her attention away from the pretty one, and the next time she looks over, she sees him holding someone’s hand. Well so much for that. 

. . . 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

Six weeks. She’d gone six weeks without seeing the sexpot that was the beautiful man who was now plaguing her dreams. And, like, it’s not like she was fantasizing about him or anything…but she was very aware of how gorgeous he was both times she’d seen him previously, and she couldn’t help herself, taking inventory of him. Those muscles, that jaw, the curl of his hair…

Except, tonight he’s less buttoned-up. The sleeves of the maroon henley he has on are shoved up to his elbows, exposing the sinewy lines of his arms, as though he completed a workout not that long ago. But it’s the jeans that do it for her; the way they hug his ass and thighs, and all over again, she’s jealous. And also now, now she’s angry. She’s angry that she keeps getting roped into these stupid nowhere dates and network meetings that aren’t gaining her the traction she wants, but some other girl out there is getting to ride that stallion all over fucking Los Angeles. When is she going to get her turn? 

Clearly not tonight, because date number four with the guy she’s been out with over the past two weeks is starting out the same way the last three have—he’s late. And the thing is, Taylor gets being late. Reporters are, by nature, always late to the scene. It’s a minor miracle when they’re actually at a place, much less with cameras rolling when an event happens. More often than not though, they only get the aftermath, so she can rationalize not being on time all the time…. But this guy hasn’t been on time once. And they specifically picked this restaurant because it was closer to his place than hers. And yet…

The pretty one is on his phone, looking rather perturbed as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. She watches as his expression goes from that, to one of concern, a pause to smile and laugh—there’s that stupid twinkle again. Does this bitch even realize how good she has it?—back to the worried expression. He’s too far away for her to make out what he’s saying, but before long, he’s slapping money on the counter and leaving before she can figure out what’s driving his attention. Her journalist skills have her wanting to get up and leave, follow after the man and find out what has him so concerned all of a sudden…but her stupid date comes through the dining room then, already rattling off an excuse. She stands, lists all the reasons that she’s not staying and why there won’t be another date—and why the tab is on him for the drinks she had while waiting—but by the time she makes it to the parking lot, the beautiful man is gone. 

Taylor huffs. 

. . . 

Three weeks later, she’s sitting at a table in a coffee house, reading through an article she’s written up. She’s gotten a decent amount of bylines since her book got published, and if things are going to continue to fuck her over at her current network, then maybe it’s time for a change. Besides, she’s heard some good things back from a friend down at the sister network a few miles over, so why not? 

The door chimes, and she ignores it, along with whoever walks in and up to the counter. They’re too far away for her to really hear, but she looks up when a barista comes to her table with freshly ordered latté and scone…

…and her eyes fall directly onto one Evan Fucking Buckley. She stares at him with a furrowed brow for a minute. He’s in his LAFD hoodie and a pair of dark joggers, probably coming off of a shift and heading home, if his generally slumped composure is anything to go by. There’s a generous bruising along the side of his jaw that has her curious, but they haven’t spoken in quite some time—not since a few weeks after he was struck by lightening, and even then, it was a short conversation—so she’s not about to step back into his life and start asking questions. 

Still, she’s taken by seeing him out in the wild. She watches briefly as he makes small talk with the barista behind the counter—someone he clearly knows well. While she can’t hear them or read lips, she can tell by their postures that the barista is asking about the bruise, and he’s quick to dismiss it, as though having his face that color is just normal. Still, she doesn’t want to eavesdrop, and before long, she’s looking back at her computer, trying to work on the article she has up. 

The door chimes again, and this time, she looks up, only because her brain is still atuned to picking out Buck’s voice in a crowd. Still, her brow furrows when she overhears ‘hi, honey’. 

She looks back up, glancing around the café, very confused when she doesn’t see another female striding up to him. Instead, her jaw slacks open as her eyes fall on him. The fucking beautiful man. The one from the restaurants—the one she’d been so jealous about. And he-��wait what!? She watches him stride right up to Buck and slide a hand down his back right over his ass and use the other to turn his cheek with fingers wrapped around his chin, clearly eyeing the bruise. Buck nods—clearly having been asked if he’s okay—and then the gorgeous one kisses him and Taylor is pretty sure at that point her brain is in a puddle on the tabletop. 

A moment later though, she quickly recomposes herself, because they must’ve felt her staring, when Buck looks over in her direction. His brow furrows briefly, and then he lifts a hand and waves. She gives the slightest hint of an affiliative smile and a quick wave back, turning her attention back to her computer. She’d been right, all of those times she’d seen the gorgeous man before. He was taken, and the person lucky enough to have him was in fact a lucky bitch. 

She just never expected the lucky bitch to be her ex-boyfriend; and that spurred a jealousy all of its own. 

[simplyholl]

Frozen Stiff

Summary: Captured by the Frost Giants, your time on Jotunheim gets interesting.

Pairing: Jotun Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Loss of virginity. Size kink. Somnophilia.

See my Masterlist here

You really did it this time. Your father instructed everyone stay in their homes this night. Loki, king of the Frost Giants had warned your father, King Erik, king of the elves that he would be coming through Alfheim. If anyone was caught outside, they would be considered an enemy, and taken prisoner.

Your father’s royal decree had went in one ear and out the other. You were considered a trouble maker. Not because of anything you had done consciously. Trouble seemed to follow wherever you went. You were so unlike your sister, the future queen of Alfheim, and no one let you forget that.

She was tucked away safely in her chambers with the door locked. Here you were, hiding in the bushes outside the palace. You wanted to get a good look at the Frost Giants. You had never seen one in person, and you didn’t think the view from your chambers would do them any justice.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the forest as they stomped through. The trees were shaking with each step they took, the force of their large bodies leaving holes in the ground where they walked. They were approaching quickly. You really should run back in the palace, but you were frozen. The first few Jotuns walk by and you’re stunned.

They are even bigger than you imagined. Then you see him, King Loki. He struts through and a wild thought comes to you. He’s beautiful. You had always been taught that the Frost Giants were ugly beasts that would take misbehaving children in the night. They seemed nice enough. King Loki had even given your father warning before passing through. He and the last three giants walk passed you and you count the seconds before you can run back inside.

Woof

You look beside you terrified. Your sister’s dog, Arnie, pants beside you, tail wagging.

Woof

He barks again. You grab him, trying your best to shush him. But it’s too late. He’s gained their attention. They turn back around, looking toward the bushes you are hiding in. You sink lower to the ground, trying to shove your body under the bush. You close your eyes, hoping if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.

But their footsteps shake the ground as they come closer. “What have we here?” One of them growls, picking you up with one hand. “We found a spy, your highness.”

“Bring him to me.” King Loki demands. You squeak as you are dropped from one huge hand into another. You shiver, the temperature of his skin is colder than you could have imagined. “Not a he, but a she.” He says amused, as he looks closely at you.

“What are you doing out here, little mouse? I warned your king that we would take anyone we found outside prisoner.” You swallow, trying to seem braver than you felt. “My father, King Erik, he did command the whole village to stay inside, your highness. I was simply curious and I wanted to see you for myself.”

Loki looks at you in the palm of his hand, amusement dancing on his features. “Your father, the king? So that makes you a princess? Are you the heir to the throne?” You shake your head. “No, your highness, that would be my sister.” You introduce yourself hoping it will get you out of this situation.

“A princess for a prisoner. What an interesting day it’s turning out to be.” He sneers. “No, wait!” You protest. He closes his hand around you, silencing you. When you arrive in Jotunheim, you are brought to a room with a giant bed, huge fluffy pillows, and a roaring fireplace. King Loki places you on the bed.

“This isn’t normally how I treat my prisoners, but you are still a princess. As long as you obey me, you may stay in this room and avoid the dungeon. You are free to walk around, and I will let everyone know that no harm is to come to you. Am I understood?”

“Yyyyesss” You stutter, you had been freezing the entire trip. You run to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together in an effort to get warm. Loki studies you, his red eyes lingering on your sheer nightgown. You really didn’t plan on getting captured when you went out, so you didn’t bother with putting on a proper dress.

You regret that decision now as his gaze lands on your breasts, heaving on your shaking form. He could see everything through the nightgown, and he was already looking, so you didn’t bother with attempting to cover yourself. “I’ll have someone make you proper clothing. In the meantime, there are extra blankets in the closet.” He walks out, leaving you with your thoughts.

Months had passed and you were settling into your new home. No one treated you like a prisoner, and you decided for once in your life to stay out of trouble. You had been given a job in the palace kitchen and you were making new friends. You were actually starting to like it here.

You giggle as your closest friend Marta, asks about your sex life. As a princess, you had to save yourself for whoever your father chose for you. You knew very little about the act itself. But Marta filled you in. She answered every question you had without judging you, and she even gave you some tips. The most shocking part was learning that a male might want to kiss you between your thighs. Marta told you there was nothing like it, so you couldn’t help fantasizing about it the rest of the day. When you laid your head down to rest, your tried to think of more questions for Marta.

The door to your room squeaked open. King Loki walked in, shutting it behind him. He gently removed the blankets from your sleeping form. You were wearing the nightgown from the first night you met him. He reaches out, his long finger grazing your nipple. The chill from his skin causing it to harden under his touch. You sigh from his attention, but don’t wake up. He carefully spreads your legs, laying down between them. His cold tongue meets your center, and you buck your hips toward him. He takes this as an invitation, long tongue lapping between your thighs.

You jump up, searching your room for him, but he’s not there. It was all a dream. You confide in Marta about it and she says it must be your conversation. It made its way into your subconscious. But you didn’t talk to Marta about it the next night when you had it or the next night. Weeks had passed and still, you had the same dream every night. It made it awkward for you when you had to serve King Loki his meals.

“King Loki has requested you serve his dessert in his chambers.” Marta told you, handing you the tray piled high with pastries, cakes, and fruit. You knock on his door, waiting for his instruction to enter. When he calls for you to come in, you bow to him. “My king, I’ve brought your dessert.” He’s propped up on his bed, gesturing for you to place it on a table by the window.

He’s so big, he nearly takes up all the room on the large bed. His muscled blue form has been the object of your fantasies for a while now. “Remove your dress, and get on the bed.” He demands. You drop the metal tray on the table. “Excuse me, your highness. I must have misheard you.”

He pats the bed, “You heard correctly, little mouse. I know you desire me. You dream of me every night. I’m only rewarding your good behavior.” You fight the urge to pinch yourself. You must be dreaming. “How did you know about that?” You manage to mumble. “I know all, little one. You can hide nothing from me.”

He beckons you with his thick finger. You do as he instructed, removing your dress and getting on the bed with him. He lifts you with one hand, hovering you above his face. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammer. “I’m having my dessert.” He quips placing you on his mouth. His long, cold tongue covers your center. You shiver from the chill. His velvety muscle curls beneath your clit, flicking it.

He treats you like a porcelain doll, holding you as if you might break. He could easily crush you without trying. You really were like his own personal doll. He enters your untouched flesh with his tongue, rocking you back and forth on it. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, trying to ground yourself. He drinks you like it’s water, the icy muscle tipping you over the edge, making your toes curl.

He suddenly tosses you on your back, his bulky form trapping you beneath him. He settles between your thighs. They start aching as he spreads them as wide as he can. It’s still not wide enough to accommodate him. So he pushes your knees to your chest, his gigantic cock nudging your center.

The thought of ruining such a small, delicate woman driving him mad with lust. “I’ll split you in half, little mouse. You would like that wouldn’t you?” Your still dazed from your orgasm, so you only hum in response. “My sweet princess is cock drunk and she hasn’t had any cock yet.” You nod, reaching for him. “I am the first to touch you, correct?” Another hum to confirm.

You gasp when he dips a large finger inside you, curling it upwards. “I have to get you ready.” He explains. As he works his skilled finger inside you, you rock your hips, hungry for more. You whine as he removes his digit from you, but you’re not left wanting for long. He thrusts into you, and you scream. He stretches you, and you try to adjust to his size. You feel him bottom out and you wiggle to get more comfortable.

Tears fall down your cheeks, the stinging not subsiding. “My poor princess. I’m too much for her. It’s only the tip, my sweet girl.” He gently traces the outline of his cock bulging in your stomach. Loki presses on it. “I can see myself protruding out of your stomach, little one. Do you know how feral that makes me? Such a small creature struggling to take the head of my cock.”

He tilts his hips, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Goosebumps line your arms when you feel his breath on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, my little princess. You feel incredible. I’ll keep you forever, my little plaything.” You whimper at his words, a gush of arousal soaking him. He moans, looking at your fucked out expression. He wraps his enormous hand around your waist, thrusting you down on him, faster.

Loki roars as he releases inside you. He pulls out, spreading your now limp legs. “I want to see me dripping out of you.” He lowers his head, black tresses covering your stomach as his icy tongue laps at you once more. “What a delicious mess you made.” He coos.

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

[tra1nchi]

haiii!!! my first time sending a request >< so a bit nervous but here we go :,,,)

innocent sheep reader on his way as usual to his grandma’s house, not knowing he’s being stalked by the big bad wolf :(( big bad wolf can’t contain himself and one day pounces on reader :3..he’s now big bad wolf property…

kinks and anything r up to u <3 tyyyy

MINORS DNI!! bttm male reader,,Size diff,,hair pulling,,spit as lube

You were so excited to see your grandmother!! Even though you see her every other week,,you can't help but be happy!! Your cute little tail wagging as you prepare your usual gift basket for the woman!!

Walking along the path,,humming a soft tune with a light skip in your step until you felt rain start to batter down onto your fluffy ears,,your hands reaching up to feel the rain and frowning,,letting out a soft sigh as you decide to take a short break under a tree,,

The forest felt eerie under the heavy rain,,the thick leaves of the tree being your only protection as the forest grows darker and darker,,the rain pouring for hours as you start to drift off,,

You were awoken by a twig snap,,your prey instincts going off as you look around,, stanind up as you hold your basket close to your chest,,freezing up as you see yellow eyes peer out from the forest,,it was a taller male,,his ears perked as his tail waghed from side to side from the sight of such a cute sheep,,

He couldn't help himself,,he had been so pent up from such an empty forest that he bounces on you,zignroing your soft squeal as your gift basket opens,,spilling its contents out

"So cute..whats a little prey animal doing out here?" He coos,,his hand brushing against your floppy ear as he leans down,,pulling down your shirt and slowly licking his tongue down your chest,,grinning softly from the sound of your whimper

"I won't hurt you..just make you and me feel so good.." His tail starts to wag quickly as he grabs your plush thighs,,squeezing the skin as he lifts them over his shoulder,,his hand gripping at your cock leaning down to spit on his own and leaking one,,

"Shhh, nice and still." He coos forcing himself inside as he kisses your face,,soothing you through the penetration,,his hips pounding in and out of you,,licking his lips as he watches you grip onto the grass,,your pathetic whines and baa's were so cute!!

Cumming deep inside of you and claiming you as his,,throwing you over his shoulder and taking you deep in the forest to his cave,, I guess your grandmother will have to wait while you get bred :)

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

[CHAPTER TWO]

CW: Marijuanna use

“Chris, I’m not so sure about this,” I mumble, crossing my arms as I follow my cousin down the forest trail. “Things are just going to get super awkward.”

“Then just… don’t talk to him. Can’t be that hard, right?” Chris responds. I can tell that he knows as well as I do that Josh himself would do whatever it takes to get under my skin in any given circumstance.

“It’s his house,” I retort.

“It’s Hannah’s get together,” he replies. “She knows how you guys are, hopefully she’ll get him off your ass.” I say nothing. "Just..." Chris stops walking and turns around to look me in the eyes.

"What?"

"Just please try to get along?" He asks. His expression is serious and pleading. I sigh, heavily. Why wasn't he on my side? Why can't Josh try to get along with me?

"Sure, Chris," I relent. "I'll... do my best." Chris smiles at me appreciatively and continues down the trail. I hate this. I don't want to be walked over, I don't want to be the doormat or the verbal punching bag for whoever was in a bad mood that day - especially Josh's. But I didn't want to ruin everybody else's good mood, either. If no one else sees a problem, why am I so upset?

The autumn trees towered above us, providing shelter from the warm sun – although some warmth would be appreciated as the temperatures dropped lower by the day. I’d only been to the Washington house before for some rager of a graduation party, when the sky was dark. With the sun, however, the gorgeous forest could make me almost forget I was on a death march to the lair of my enemy.

Chris and I finally make it to the porch of the Washington home. He turns to me, as if to say “after you!” I hold my arms tighter to my body and shake my head. So, after a roll of the eyes, he knocks. There’s a muffled call from the other side to let us know someone was coming to let us in. Just my luck, Joshua opens the door.

“What are you, Chris, a vampire? Gotta be invited in, now?” Josh jokes, a wide grin on his face.

“I’m with Jordan,” Chris says, as if clarifying. Josh looks over Chris’s shoulder to see me. I swear I see his smile widen, and I can only think that can’t be good.

“You can leave her outside, Chris, no worries,” Josh snickers as he steps aside, holding open the door for Chris and I. As I walk past, I nod and offer a gentle thanks. “You’re welcome, pet.” Immediately, Chris sighs as if he knows whats coming. He knows I want to say something – but the guilt I feel in my chest for ruining every good mood keeps me from speaking. Instead, I just give him a hurt, frustrated look.

Josh seems surprised. Next to the shock, though, is a flash of an emotion I can’t quite catch. It’s Josh, however. So I didn’t much care. I walked into the living room, where everyone else was waiting. Hannah stands up and hurries to greet me, walking straight past Chris to pull me into a hug.

“Ahh, thank you for coming! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, uhm, thank you!” I pause. “For inviting me, I mean. You have a lovely home.” I give an awkward bow, staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re so fucking weird, what are you doing?! I scold myself. I know they’re thinking it, too, but I once again push the negative thoughts away.

“We’re gonna head down to the basement,” Hannah says, smiling as if I hadn’t just made the most awkward air possible. “Do you smoke?” I’m taken by surprise. Chris, Josh, and everyone else walks past Hannah and I and towards the stairs.

“Smoke?” I repeat. “What, like, weed?” Hannah giggles.

“Yes, like, weed,” she says.

“Yeah, sometimes. Not often, though.”

“Great! We have weed.”

“Sounds… good.” A part of me is relieved. Maybe with something in my system I’ll be able to relax for once. Especially around Josh. I feel a burning anger in my chest at just the thought of him. Hannah takes my hand firmly and begins to lead me to the stairs the others had gone down. I make a mental note that the twins both really seem to like holding hands. Not that I minded. It just wasn’t that common for someone to take your hand in theirs when showing you around their house.

We get to the basement, and it’s noticeably colder. And massive. My eyebrows raise as I look around the room. There’s a huge TV mounted on the wall, a large circular wooden table in the middle of the room on a round, purple rug. Around the table for seating were two L couches, and on the couches were Hannah’s friends. Not everyone, though.

Matt, Sam, and Jess were missing, leaving just Ashley, Mike, and his girlfriend Emily, who was casually sitting on his lap. Next to Mike and Emily, Chris unsurprisingly had sat next to Ashley, leaving the other couch to Hannah, Beth, Joshua and I. For a moment I wondered if this could be some kind of set up. Hannah quickly left my side to sit next to Beth on the furthest end of the couch. On the other side was, of course, Joshua, rolling a joint. And, of course, the only open seat was next to him.

And he knew it.

I didn’t want to be rude or, again, make things awkward. And so, I sat next to Joshua Washington. It’s here, watching him focused on something that I suddenly realize how tired he looks. The underside of his eyes were dark, as if he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days.

“Like what you see?” Josh smiles, eyebrows raised. I frown in response.

“No.” I immediately regret this as the vibe is instantly brought down by my rude answer. “I mean, like, not NO, but I just mean I didn’t -”

“Calm down, girl, I’m just… just JOSHING ya,” he laughs. I roll my eyes but I can’t help the small smile that hints at my face. Josh’s head snapped to his sisters, mouth wide open in a smile as if he can’t believe I was capable of anything but a straight face or a frown. “I made her smile!” He whisper yells. I hate it, but it makes it harder to keep the smile down. Somehow I manage not to fully grin.

“Alright, you first, Mike,” Josh says, handing the dark haired boy the joint. Mike takes a long drag and shotguns it to Emily. My lip twitches, threatening to make an obvious sneer at the strong PDA.

“Ohh, spicey,” I hear Josh laugh. “Chris and Ashley next.” Ashley and Chris immediately chime in in a chorus of no’s. Chris takes the joint and takes a hit. I notice his hands are shaking. The idea of his lips so close to Ashley’s is more than it appears he can take. I can hear Josh continue to laugh to himself as Ashley is handed the joint.

“So, what’s the plan for the winter this year?” Beth says, her face shining with excitement. “Are you guys coming?” Mike and Emily look away from each other, their teasing and giggling cut short by Beth’s question. Despite the unhappy look on Emily’s face, she answers. Ashley passes the joint to Hannah.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, hon,” she smiles, but it looks forced and sarcastic, even. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as to why she’s here – and why does she keep getting invited? Mike nods next to her, a smile on his handsome face. He seems much more laid back and agreeable than his girlfriend, who I notice is looking me up and down. “Do you have a problem or something, weird girl?” I’m taken aback at the sudden confrontation and I sit up straight. My heart begins to pound. Hannah passes the joint to Beth.

“No, I don’t. I was just -”

“Staring at me like some sort of creep? Yeah, I saw. I saw you look at my man, too. What’s up? You want him?”

“What? No, I -”

“You can’t have him. So eyes off, bitch.” I clench my jaw, hard. I swear I almost cracked a tooth.

"Emily -" Mike starts, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and embarrassment. He shoots me a worried, apologetic look.

"No, it's fine," I say, staring Emily directly in the eyes. As I expected, she takes it as a challenge. "I looked at you, yeah. When you're sucking face like that it's hard to ignore." Beth passes the joint to Josh.

"Well, keep looking." Emily hisses, throwing her arms around Mike and holding his neck tightly. I wonder if he can breathe. I clear my throat and look up at Chris. His eyes are already a bit droopier, but through his mild high he still looks back at me with a sort of pity and embarrassment that I just can't stand.

Josh hands me the joint.

"Go on, take a big drag, babydoll," Josh grins at me. I frown at him. He did nothing wrong, but I still can't help but feel like he's making fun of me in some way. Still, I ignore the nickname. I know he's just trying to get under my skin, yet I can feel the tips of my ears heat up in embarrassment. I side-eye Josh as I put the blunt in between my lips. He's staring at me as if he's studying me, his ever present smile missing from his face, eyes half closed. He couldn't be high that quickly, could he?

As he suggested, I take a long drag, adding a bit of 'coolness' by French inhaling.

"Oh, so cool, I've never seen that before," Emily says sarcastically. I ignore her as I pass the weed back to Mike. Mike doesn't look at me as he takes it, instead glaring at Emily. I can tell he's embarrassed by her cruelty.

I don't hate Mike. He's never been my favorite person in the world, but he's never done anything to me or that I've seen that could make me dislike him other than his habit of... Well, women. However, I could tell that despite her attitude Mike saw something beneath that and really did care about Emily. He was handsome, I could never deny that. Thick, dark hair and brown eyes, a chiseled jaw and a decent body to match. The more time I spent near him the more I understood that he really wasn't a stereotypical 'high school hot guy.' Mr. Class President. He locks eyes with me and gives me an awkward smile. I can sense an apology in his expression. I want to return a look, but I quicky shift my gaze before Emily catches on to the telepathic conversation.

As we continue the rotation, the conversation of their winter plans continues on. I listen, but I don't contribute due to my lack of invitation. I look around me, and everyone looks happy and content. I can feel my own high start to creep up under my eyes, and I can't help but smile to myself. It was pleasant. Even though these were people I didn't yet consider friends outside of Chris, Beth, and Hannah, I didn't feel completely out of place in this moment. I felt content for the first time in a long time.

An hour passes.

"Hey, I'm sorry, where's your bathroom?" I ask. I start to think I might be greening out and I needed a moment to myself. Josh turns to me, a dopey grin on his face.

"The bathroom?" He asks. I smile back at him.

"Yeah, the bathroom."

"What for?" Josh scoots closer as if to hear me better.

"I'm getting anxious, I think," I admit. This surprises me. Why would I tell Josh I'm anxious? So he can make it worse? Instead of poking fun at me and telling everyone to look, his smile fades slightly and his eyebrows twitch in what looks like concern.

"Anxious? Are you ok?"

"I'm greening," I say, widening my eyes for a moment to exaggerate. Josh takes my hand.

"I will escort you to the bathroom," he says, standing up. "It's kind of a maze, this house." He's smiling at me. Even under the influence I can't help but search for any sign of malicious intent. My anxiety spikes further. What does he have planned?

"Can't you just tell me how to get there?" I ask, though I stand with him anyway.

"Yeah, but you'll get lost."

"Joshua Washington," Hannah starts, her tone that of a parent warning their child. "You better not upset her or I swear..."

"Yeah!" Beth chimes in.

"Awe, guys, give me a chance! Give me a chance..." He trails off, beginning to lead me to the stairs, still holding my hand. When we're further away, I inform him that my hand was still in his. "Oh, can I just keep holding it? Your hands are just so soft." I say nothing. How do I respond to that? Is this some sort of joke?

"Your hands are calloused," is all I can muster.

"Oh, man, is that bad?"

"No."

We stand in front of a door. I assume it's the bathroom but I can't think clearly. Josh just stares at me. I ask him if this is the bathroom. He says nothing. He's expressionless.

"You seem anxious around me, do I make you anxious?"

"Is this the bathroom?" I ask. Silence. My heart is pounding. What is he trying to do? Embarrass me? He's staring into my very being. Of course he makes me anxious.

"...yeah." He steps aside, opening the door for me. He suddenly seems sober. I feel a pang of guilt as I walk past him and into the bathroom. Why? I stare at myself in the mirror, studying my own features. I'm not wearing any makeup, but I kind of wish I did. Maybe some mascara, or something. My cheeks and the tips of my ears were a light red, my flustered state obvious. As I observe myself, my mind wanders to the people out there, in the basement. Chris seems to really enjoy their company. Outside of Emily and Josh, I do too. Yet I still can't help but question it all.

Did they see me as a charity case? They never invited me to anything before, no texts after I'd moved. The friendship or my classmates was utterly and completely out of nowhere. Why did Beth and Hannah invite me? My pupils are dilated. I look tired. My eyes water. Will I be invited again? I think I hope so.

A knock on the door makes me jump.

"Are you ok in there?"

"It's been like, 10 seconds."

"It's been like, 10 minutes, J." Had it really been that long? There was no way. J? I find myself wondering where such a familiar sounding nickname came from.

"Are you timing me?" I ask.

"No," he answers. "I'm not." A beat of silence.

"Have you been waiting for me this whole time?" Josh doesn't answer. After a moment of silence, he knocks again.

"Are you ok in there?" I roll my eyes and sigh in frustration, opening the door and stepping out. Well, trying to. Josh is standing directly in the opening and I bump into him, hard, but he doesn't stumble. He grabs both my shoulders as if to hold me still, keep me from falling over. I only notice now he's taller than me by a few inches, my eyes in line with his mouth.

"Yeah," I say, frozen in place. He's touching me

Why is he touching me? Why? His grip loosens, noticing how tense I am.

"You were just in there for a while, and," he paused, taking a step back. "I dunno, sometimes people cry at get togethers or whatever." I chew on my lower lip. I had almost cried. "It would've been a major bummer, or whatever."

"Do I look like I was crying?"

"Yes." I'm taken aback, lifting my hands to my face. Sure enough, my cheeks are wet with what can only be tears.

"How would - how would you know?" Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. He takes another step back from me as he looks at the wall to my left, shifting his weight. Is he nervous?

"...I've seen you cry a lot."

"Oh. Right." The silence is deafening. "Let's go back downstairs." I wipe my face dry with the sleeves of my sweater. "Thanks for showing me where the bathroom is." I try to change the subject. He says nothing, only offering me a nod this time. He doesn't take my hand.

"Next time you're on your own." He huffs, turning on his heel and walking quickly away from me and back towards the basement. I'm taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude but I bite my tongue. I promised Chris I would do my best to get along with Josh, and I intended to keep it. But damn was it difficult.

Back into the basement, Josh is already sat and smoking. I furrow my eyebrows. Did he have to be high to tolerate my presence? I shake the thought from my head and take my place next to him. He shifts, scooting slightly further away from me. My chest fills with a deep, rumbling anger, and I grip the sides of the couch tightly. I didn't do anything to him.

"You'll be coming, right, Jordan?" Beth asks. I snap out of my thoughts and lean forward to see her over her brother, who stiffens.

"What? Coming to what?" I ask. Beth smiles and rolls her eyes playfully. I can hear Emily snicker and Mike sigh at her in mild frustration, saying her name as if in a warning - again. Chris is watching Josh, his eyes seemingly scanning for something.

"Our parents own a lodge up on a mountain," Hannah answers for Beth. "In the winter we all spend a few days up there. No parents, if you were wondering."

"And you're invited," Beth butts in. "It would be rude of us to talk about it so much in front of you if we didn't plan on taking you along." I'm passed the blunt, but I don't hit it this time. I'm high enough.

"Uh, well, I don't know," I start, chewing at my bottom lip. I glance at Josh, who is staring at me intensely. The sudden eye contact kind of freaks me out. I look at Chris, who shrugs at me, his expression wide eyed and clueless. Emily rolls her eyes, and the twins look at me expectantly. "I... I don't think I would be any fun." My heart pounds. I don't want to spend time trapped on a mountain for days near Joshua Washington. I would expect to wake up one morning with my mattress somehow moved outside as a "joke."

"What? Why?"

"I'm just not a partier." I gulp. I look again at Chris. I can't tell what he's thinking. Does he want me to come? Does he think I'll ruin it for him? For everyone?

I think I would.

"Jordan, please. Just think about it?" Hannah pleads, standing up from her place on the couch to crouch down in front of me like a parent talking to their child. I can feel Josh's gaze boring into me, telling me I'd better not dare to say yes. My eyes snap to his, my head unmoving.

If you come to the lodge I will make your life hell.

The anger in me bubbles and burns to the point of pain, my jaw clenching. I can't help but think about how many times I'd missed out on something because Joshua Washington would be there or even nearby. How many tears have I shed over this asshole? And now what? Now he thought he could control me?

"Jordan?" Hannah repeats. I know she can see the staring battle between Josh and I.

"You know what, Hannah?" I start. Something in Josh's expression changes. The warning is still there, but now there's something else. Shock? Admiration?

"Yeah?" Hannah starts to smile, though there's a hint of nervousness to it. I wonder if regret ever creeped into her head.

Fear?

I don't know. But I know I'm done with agreeing to be put down and pushed around for the comfort of others. If Joshua Washington wanted a battle he sure as hell would get one, though this time there was no winning for him. I'm not laying down anymore. I turn my head so I'm fully facing him. His expression shifts further towards surprise and realization that something was different.

"I'll be there."

-------------------------

Whoo!! Sorry for the wait! Thank you for your patience.

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